Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2015 14:16:25 GMT -5
Gunshots everywhere. Screaming, running, panic. Toby was lost amongst the mass of moving bodies, both living and undead; friend and foe. He searched the passing faces for Ryan, hoping against all hell that he was alive and somewhere in the vicinity. He couldn't loose another love. Not after all he'd lost already.
And then it happened. It happened so fast that he could barely register what was going on. He caught a glimpse of Ryan's face, about 4 meters away from where he himself was standing. Their eyes met and Toby could see the relief in Ryan's eyes. And then he was on the floor, something heavy having collided with his back. He was stuck there, whatever was on top of him was writing around in what he presumed was pain. It wasn't a Walker; Walker's didn't feel pain.
A pair of boots appeared in front of Toby's head as he struggled to pull himself free of the writing mass above him. Whoever had just appeared must have dragged the thing off of him, for he felt the weight lessen until he could pull himself up again.
His eyes met Ryan's and he wanted to kiss him. To hold embrace him and never let go. But they couldn't, not here, there was no time.
“We have to go” Toby said, grabbing at Ryan's arms and motioning towards the road. He caught a glimpse of a body propped up against a car, the body that was on top of him only moments before. It was them, the men who'd attacked.
Ryan gave a quick nod and took Toby's hand, pulling him along through the crowd, dodging the Walkers that noticed them.
“In here!” a voice shouted from ahead.
Toby saw Andrew's blue Ford Fiesta, Richard leaning out of the back window as the car began to pull away.
Ryan sped up, heading straight for the car and pulling Toby along beside him. They had to make it, they just had to.
They did.
Richard threw open the door just as they approached. Ryan leapt inside, Toby inches behind him.
“Let's go!” Richard shouted at the drivers seat and the car sped up towards the front of the motel.
Toby slammed the door as they went, gaining himself a view of the mass of Walkers in the Motel car park, most of them closing in on the Ford.
The screaming and gunshots had stopped now. Everyone else was either dead or gone. Everyone except-
BANG. BANG. BANG.
One of the men had clambered up onto the roof of the motel, covered in blood and bites, and began shooting at them as they passed in a last attempt at finishing what they'd came to do.
The bullets ricocheted off of the car, one of them shattering the back window. Toby ducked instinctively, dropping his slender body into the foot well of the back seat.
There was a crash as the car hit something and then the bullets stopped. The sound of the Walkers outside faded and ceased.
They'd made it. They were out.
So why did something not feel right?
Toby raised his head to inspect the car, noting as he did that they were now driving hastily down a dirt road. Thomas was driving, taking quick but short breaths, Rachel was in the passenger seat, her hands clutching the door handle in shock, Ryan was beside him, a comforting hand pressed against Toby's lower back, and Richard was on the other side of the back seat, sobbing silently into something. His pregnant wife, Deborah, was limp against the seat, her head hanging towards the window as though she were asleep. But she wasn't asleep. Her pale yellow cardigan was drenched in blood from a wound in her chest. One of the bullets must have hit her. She was gone.
Toby leant into Ryan's chest as Richard began to scream out for his wife, shaking her as though he could bring her back.
And then Toby felt a searing pain in his shoulder as Ryan sank his teeth into him. No- that wasn't right. Ryan was alive. Toby tried to pull away but Ryan bit into him again, tearing at the flesh off his neck. Toby tried to scream but no sound came out. He reached for his gun at his belt, it wasn't there. Instead he felt-
-a blanket. His eyes opened quickly as he jerked awake. The blanket was stuck to him, his body sweating all over. His breaths were deep and his throat was coarse. Had he been shouting in his sleep?
He yanked the blanket off of himself and turned over. Ryan was asleep beside him, one arm outstretched as though he had been holding Toby when they fell asleep. He was perfectly alive and not dead.
Toby's neck no longer hurt at all, but the pain had felt so real. He did a quick take of the small back room they were sleeping in but they were alone. Completely and utterly alone.
He rested his head back down on the pillow, looking into Ryan's sleeping face as he thought back to the motel. He couldn't get it out of his head, every time he slept, which wasn't often, he would see it play out again.
He had to stop thinking about them, they were gone and he couldn't get them back. He had Ryan and that was enough.
And then it happened. It happened so fast that he could barely register what was going on. He caught a glimpse of Ryan's face, about 4 meters away from where he himself was standing. Their eyes met and Toby could see the relief in Ryan's eyes. And then he was on the floor, something heavy having collided with his back. He was stuck there, whatever was on top of him was writing around in what he presumed was pain. It wasn't a Walker; Walker's didn't feel pain.
A pair of boots appeared in front of Toby's head as he struggled to pull himself free of the writing mass above him. Whoever had just appeared must have dragged the thing off of him, for he felt the weight lessen until he could pull himself up again.
His eyes met Ryan's and he wanted to kiss him. To hold embrace him and never let go. But they couldn't, not here, there was no time.
“We have to go” Toby said, grabbing at Ryan's arms and motioning towards the road. He caught a glimpse of a body propped up against a car, the body that was on top of him only moments before. It was them, the men who'd attacked.
Ryan gave a quick nod and took Toby's hand, pulling him along through the crowd, dodging the Walkers that noticed them.
“In here!” a voice shouted from ahead.
Toby saw Andrew's blue Ford Fiesta, Richard leaning out of the back window as the car began to pull away.
Ryan sped up, heading straight for the car and pulling Toby along beside him. They had to make it, they just had to.
They did.
Richard threw open the door just as they approached. Ryan leapt inside, Toby inches behind him.
“Let's go!” Richard shouted at the drivers seat and the car sped up towards the front of the motel.
Toby slammed the door as they went, gaining himself a view of the mass of Walkers in the Motel car park, most of them closing in on the Ford.
The screaming and gunshots had stopped now. Everyone else was either dead or gone. Everyone except-
BANG. BANG. BANG.
One of the men had clambered up onto the roof of the motel, covered in blood and bites, and began shooting at them as they passed in a last attempt at finishing what they'd came to do.
The bullets ricocheted off of the car, one of them shattering the back window. Toby ducked instinctively, dropping his slender body into the foot well of the back seat.
There was a crash as the car hit something and then the bullets stopped. The sound of the Walkers outside faded and ceased.
They'd made it. They were out.
So why did something not feel right?
Toby raised his head to inspect the car, noting as he did that they were now driving hastily down a dirt road. Thomas was driving, taking quick but short breaths, Rachel was in the passenger seat, her hands clutching the door handle in shock, Ryan was beside him, a comforting hand pressed against Toby's lower back, and Richard was on the other side of the back seat, sobbing silently into something. His pregnant wife, Deborah, was limp against the seat, her head hanging towards the window as though she were asleep. But she wasn't asleep. Her pale yellow cardigan was drenched in blood from a wound in her chest. One of the bullets must have hit her. She was gone.
Toby leant into Ryan's chest as Richard began to scream out for his wife, shaking her as though he could bring her back.
And then Toby felt a searing pain in his shoulder as Ryan sank his teeth into him. No- that wasn't right. Ryan was alive. Toby tried to pull away but Ryan bit into him again, tearing at the flesh off his neck. Toby tried to scream but no sound came out. He reached for his gun at his belt, it wasn't there. Instead he felt-
-a blanket. His eyes opened quickly as he jerked awake. The blanket was stuck to him, his body sweating all over. His breaths were deep and his throat was coarse. Had he been shouting in his sleep?
He yanked the blanket off of himself and turned over. Ryan was asleep beside him, one arm outstretched as though he had been holding Toby when they fell asleep. He was perfectly alive and not dead.
Toby's neck no longer hurt at all, but the pain had felt so real. He did a quick take of the small back room they were sleeping in but they were alone. Completely and utterly alone.
He rested his head back down on the pillow, looking into Ryan's sleeping face as he thought back to the motel. He couldn't get it out of his head, every time he slept, which wasn't often, he would see it play out again.
He had to stop thinking about them, they were gone and he couldn't get them back. He had Ryan and that was enough.