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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 5, 2013 9:44:15 GMT -6
Heading South on 75, Just outside of Chattanooga
About a half mile down the interstate from a hoard of those shambling, mindless things that were once bankers, doctors, and elected officials the black 71' Volkswagen beetle came to a stop. The Beetle sat tall on a lift kit and sported thin mudders, and a particularly grim medieval looking contraption was still dripping gore from the axles of the off road tires. A set of three nasty steel blades were mounted to each of the wheel wells via a steel hub.
Asher Corbeau's worn booted heel made contact with the surface of the pavement as the door swung open. The hot humid wind smacked him in the face like a wet towel carrying the equally wet scent of decay with it. In the distance the shambling horde of walking dead could be seen moving up the interstate behind him, he wasn't in any immediate danger, the surrounding area was clear of people, living or dead. He'd been on the run now since the descent to chaos began. He couldn't really remember how long ago that had been.
Wrench in hand he crouched next to the front wheel well and popped the blades off their mounts one by one. Quickly he flicked the gore off onto the payment and before placing them into the duffel bag he carried he wiped them off with a rag. He did this at each wheel and then discarded the rag.
A snarl rose from the roadside and he turned his head to see a dead man making its way up the embankment. This one appeared to be in relatively good condition, missing an ear it seemed. It was wearing what once appeared to be blue jeans, but there wasn't much left that was blue about them now.
Asher turned and tossed his bag of blades onto the passenger side floor of the beetle and stepped up into the drivers seat. No need to waste energy on this one, might as well keep going, full tank of gas and an empty road in front of him he shut the door, turned the ignition and pulled away just as the walker managed to pull itself over the lip of the road.
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Post by India Belikov on Oct 5, 2013 19:33:03 GMT -6
Several miles south a lone figure shambled onward with purpose in her step. Dolzhny byt' vyvedeny na poberezh'ye..1 She had no idea how long she had been walking now. Flicking her blue eyes skyward, she judged the time to be about noon. Six hours. Six fucking hours. Swallowing, she was reminded just how parched she was. Shuffling to a stop, she dropped the backpack upon the pavement and took a knee. Ruffling through the meager contents, she produced a large water bottle, less than half full. Pursing her dry lips, she debated if she really needed a drink. There was no idea when she was going to come across clean water again.
"Yebat' yego."2
Unscrewing the cap, she took a couple small sips. Ahh, water. Licking her lips, she closed the bottle and tossed it into her bag. Now what? Pushing herself backward, she let her bum hit the ground. Looking around her, India sighed softly. Reaching forward, she grabbed the old map and placed it on the road.
"Khorosho, gde ya?"3
She had just left Ringgold at dawn so she figured herself to be close to Sugartown. Hopefully the exit would be just another mile or three down the road. Maybe she could find some new supplies there, a decent t-shirt or hell, even new shoes. Glancing at her feet, she winced. The soles of her Nike's were damn near flopping off. Yep, definitely needed new shoes. A garbled moan sounded from the treeline beside her and India jumped to her feet in time to see two demons shuffling out of the forest. Leaving her bag at the side of the road, she reached into her pocket and withdrew one of her throwing knives. Carefully approaching them, she dropped down into a crouch and kicked out a leg, swiftly bringing them both to the ground. Jumping on one, she pinned it with her foot and slammed the knife into it's eye socket, effectively killing it. Within a few minutes, the second one was disposed of as well. More moaning sounded and as India looked to the forest she could see a large group of demons heading her way.
"Yeblya demonov!"4
Pushing herself off the dead one, she ran back to the road, swung her backpack onto her back and started running down the interstate. Hopefully she could find a car or something to hide out in because she knew no one was going to come down the road to save her.
Translations
1 "Must reach coast.." 2 "Fuck it" 3 "Alright, where am I?" 4 "Fucking demons!" [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 6, 2013 12:51:11 GMT -6
Windows down, the sound of his tires on the interstate the only music he really needed even before the madness. The radio had been nothing but static for months now. The day was brilliant, nearly cloudless and not a soul to be seen anywhere, isolation in what was once one of the greatest countries in the world. Some country now, the grand vastness of the united states was now truly the great american wasteland. The side of the road was litered by abandoned cars and those less abandoned.
Asher reached over for his bag of food and pulled out a strip of overly hard jerky and gnawed on it. Times like this were those when he would nearly slip into dispair. He would think about his brothers, wondered if he would ever see them again, not like it would really matter. He never got along with them anyway. Now more than ever he was truly alone.
Sugar Town one mile, another town with a nice name that was crawling with things that werent so nice. Was it too late to give up?
"Asher, youre stupid if you wanted to give up you would have just waited to die."
He shook his head and swallowed the bite of jerky hed been working on. Atleast jerky was still jerky, even after the world went to shit. He glanced into his back seat where his hookah sat and thought about stopping for a smoke. No, not here. Tonight when he stopped to rest.
Was there really rest any more?
Ahead on the road a couple zombies staggered along the road at a pace that was more unusual than... there.. a girl with blonde hair like a flag to the world was racing ahead of them toward what looked like another car graveyard. The road was littered, and something told him that she would have more than those three to contend with if she entered that forlorn car lot. Reaching down he pushed open his driver side door and held it open as he swerved and ran it into the backs of the persuing dead knocking two of the three over. Shutting his door he turned the wheel and skidded to a stop cutting off the diminutive blonde from her date with the graveyard. He kicked the passenger door open and shouted.
"Get in!"
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Post by India Belikov on Oct 6, 2013 13:43:29 GMT -6
There! She was so close she could just taste it! Before her was a large pileup of cars. If India could just find one, unlocked, she'd be fine, for a bit at least. She pumped her legs faster, elongating her stride as she raced onward. Her braid came undone and she cursed softly to herself as she ran. Behind her, she could hear the faint rumble of a vehicle. A working one. She wanted to look behind her, but she didn't dare. Fokus Indii ! Vy mozhete sdelat' eto , chut' dal'she !1
She was fifty yards off now when the car behind her got closer. There was a loud THUNK as two demons went down. Before she knew what was happening a black beetle swerved infront of her and it took all she had to skid to a stop and not slam into it. The side door was kicked open toward her and a young man was inside. He shouted something in english to her. She risked a glance behind her and she saw the downed dead and one only ten feet away. Without another moment's hesitation, she swung her backpack off her shoulder and jumped in, slamming the door closed behind her.
She fought for breath as she panted hard beside him. Wide blue eyes stared out the window at the demon whose outstretched arms flailed hopelessly as the man stepped on the gas, lurching the car forward and safely down the road while navigating the graveyard. India sat upright in her seat, her fingers gripping her knife tightly. Maybe he knew russian? It never hurt to try.
"Spasibo.. Menya zovut Indii .. chto tvoye?"
At his confused expression, she groaned softly. Of all the places for her to be at the end of the world, it had to be Amerika. It didn't help that she barely knew a lick of english. She furrowed her brow as she fought to find the proper words in her head.
"Uh..tank you? Nam is..India. Vash? Er.. yours? "
Translations
1 "Focus India! You can make it, just a little farther!"[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 7, 2013 15:07:57 GMT -6
The look of bewilderment I saw on her face should have clued Asher in before the woman was sitting in his car while he drove away. What did she say?
placebo.. Mintya sobut Indiana .. cholo tyrone?
Ah well, he shook his head and tried to smile a little as he drove down into the median and up the other side of the interstate where the cars seemed to be spaced further apart. This was going to be an interesting trip indeed, doesn't speak a lick of english and I haven't got the slightest idea what...
Asher's thoughts trailed off as she spit out chunk of word after another in some of the most broken english he had ever heard.
"Uh..tank you? Nam is..India. Vash? Er.. yours?
He looked over at her for a second as he steered around an old ford pickup and ran over the crawling form of a woman with a slightly audible crunch. Popped her head like a grape he thought to himself absentmindedly when he realized that she had really been speaking english.
"India? Your name?" He looked into his rearview mirror and noticed the zombie was still crawling, must have just gotten her legs. Ah well, atleast she wont be going anywhere quick.
"My name is Asher." He said nearly blushing from the absurdity of the entire situation. He kept his eyes on the road so as to maybe hide some of his foolishness.
A small truck sat at an angle with the cab of a bus with its bed jutting out into the road blocking his way. Asher looked around and noticed several of the dead moving their way through the car graveyard. Not enough of them to really cause any issue, but he'd rather not draw anymore out of the surrounding area.
Rolling up to the truck slowly, he shifted into first and slowly started to push the trucks bed out like a door. Truck tires squealing against the pavement the bully of a beetle squeezed through, back onto the open road. Luckily it appeared that he wasn't gonna be running into any other vehicles for quite some time.
Reaching down into his bag that now sat between them on the bench seat he pulled out two pieces of jerky bit down on it and handed the other to the blonde woman sitting next to him.
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Post by India Belikov on Oct 7, 2013 17:55:17 GMT -6
Well, this was going to be fun. As the black beetle roared over the road, she gripped the door and dashboard for dear life. If the demons didn't kill her, it was gonna be this guy's driving for sure. She winced slightly as he carelessly ran over one, the sickly crunch noises echoing in her ears. She was never going to get used to this. Once the road became smoother again, she leaned back, her hand holding her forehead with her elbow propped against the window.
"India? Your name?"
She jumped at his voice, snapping her eyes over to him. Well, at least she could understand him a bit. But once he started longer sentences and bigger words she would be lost again. She was surprised the bit of English she learned back in school was actually helpful. Lowering her hand she looked over to the scruffy guy and nodded her head at the mention of her name. "Da! I is India!" She watched his face redden a little and she furrowed her brows at him curiously. Why was he blushing? Was he ok?
"My name is Asher." As he said his name, she tried repeating it to see if she heard him correctly. "Arsher?" What a weird name. Then again, lots of Amerikans had weird names. She studied his face in silence for a few moments before he started ramming the truck out of the way. "Yebat'!"1 Yep, this idiot was gonna kill her, one way or another. She was back to gripping the dash and the door.
"Medlenno , chert voz'mi vniz! Ty sobirayesh'sya ubit' nas!"2
Once the path was clear, she sighed, relieved that the road was completely clear for a while. She looked over to the man and rolled her eyes. Bending down, she quickly did a mental checklist of her backpack, glad to find she didn't lose a damn thing in her escape. Zipping it up, she sat up only to have a hand thrust out infront of her. Jumping slightly, she looked at him, then down to the brown stick he offered in his hand. Gingerly she took it and watched him take a bite of his own. Furrowing her brows, she did the same and her eyes widened. Food! She made quick work of the jerky and looked to him again.
"Tank you. Uhm...bol'she? Net..er... morre?"
Translations
1 "Fuck" 1 "Slow the fuck down! You're going to kill us!" [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 8, 2013 23:24:19 GMT -6
The terrified look and her yelling spoke volumes of her encounter with the undead, though he kinda figured after several months of dealing with them and not succumbing shed be used to it by now. Besides, three of the idiots wasn't really something to be upset about.
"Where are you from India?" He spoke somewhat slowly hoping she would understand something he said or else this was going to be a very long trip indeed. He wasn't sure where he was even going.
well for right now Atlanta seemed as good a place as any, but then again, with his experience with other large towns he was starting to have his doubts. The hordes of dead wandering about eating anything and everything that was living seemed hopelessly tied with the cities. Except lately, they seemed to have started wandering off into the country side. He guessed that food sources in the cities were drying up so they just left them and started wandering the countryside.
His one and only hope with Atlanta was the CDC, it was there. The military would have defended it with everything they had. It had to be still okay, a safe haven. After all, the military were professionals and he'd taken out at least fifty of the bastards in the past week. That wasnt counting the ones he cut down with his car. There was no telling what damage a couple soldiers could do to these things.
The road was blessedly empty, but there was no way he was going to listen to this jibberish for much longer. He didn't know anything about this girl. He was feeling kind of foolish for picking her up in the first place. She could have made it through that graveyard just fine. But then again, there was a chance she wouldn't have either. No, he couldn't second guess himself he made the right choice.
Reaching down into his bag he tossed a bag of jack links classic to her. He made the right choice. However, there was no way he was going to drive all the way to Atlanta and try to topple that shit storm today. He wasn't going to be caught in there after dark with a woman he couldn't even communicate with. That just reeked of disaster.
Speaking of the language barrier, he was going to sort that out first thing in the morning. If she was going to be around for any length of time she was gonna have to learn to speak English. He didn't even know what language she was speaking.
"Indiana, what country are you from? Asher from America,
India, from....?" He let it trail, he'd repeat it if he had to.
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Post by India Belikov on Oct 10, 2013 17:57:41 GMT -6
What did she get herself into? Sure, he was a knight in a dirty black car and saved her ass from four fucking demons but was it really worth it? She could barely understand the guy for heaven's sake. How was she going to communicate with him, especially when danger is around. Well, that depends if she's sticking close to him for that long. Looking over at him now, she observed him quietly. The thick stubble dusting his jaw, the unruly mop of dark brown hair upon his head, serious eyes watching the road for obstacles or demons. She had to admit he was easy on the eyes. Snapping her head forward, she closed her eyes tightly. What was she doing!? It hasn't even been a month since Andre, her fiance died. Andre...
His strong voice spooked her slightly, forcing her to come back to the real world. All she understood was where and from other than her name. Why would he want to know such things? Oh.. He's probably trying to make small talk. Good luck buddy. "Ruza." It was a small town west of Moscow. Just thinking of her home made her sad. She missed the fuck out of Russia. Especially the colder weather. She couldn't stand this shit heat from Georgia. At least in Chicago, it was cooler. Suddenly, a bag was tossed in her lap and she smiled. God was she hungry. Tearing into the bag, she started in. After four or five beef sticks, she forced herself to stop. She had no idea when they'd find more food, or if he even had more food. She found the bag where he pulled it out of and tucked it in. "Spasibo. Is mean tank you."
Heh, maybe she would teach him Russian! Make communication alot easier if she did. But, does he have the mind for it. Supposedly, Russian was one of the hardest languages for foreigners to learn. Eh, he can do it, if he saved my ass. Again he spoke, this time she understood a bit more. He said he was from Amerika, No shit, and was asking her where she came from. She smirked proudly before she answered him. "Russia!"
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 27, 2013 15:56:40 GMT -6
The road continued to unfold beneath the steady rotation of the tires upon the pavement as his new companion glutinously chomped down on the pieces of beef he had given her, he wondered when the last time she ate had been. It couldn't have been anytime recently.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught her careful scrutiny and he tried to pay it no mind however her eyes on him made his skin crawl. When she said thank you, Asher smiled a little and steered the beetle around the back end of a semi trailer that had been deserted on the side of the road. A flat bed, empty.
However, not far before them, a couple miles maybe appeared another semi. However this one had an enclosed trailer, food was a distinct possibility, however it was much too early to tell who the truck belonged to. The truck grew in size as they approached, it was unmarked and several undead shambled around it. A couple banging on the door to the back. There was something in there, the husks didn't attack semi's that were empty. Asher counted twelve of the fuckers milling dumbly around the truck.
Looking over at India he smiled reaching into the back and pulling out his antiquated silenced rifle. He slowed the beetle and swung it around so that the driver side door was facing the semi.
He swung up and out the open window of the beetle so that he was sitting on the door of his vehicle. Lining up his first shot he fired. It missed, he swore softly and readjusted his body twisting ever so slightly and fired again, more stable this time and blew a quarter sized hole through the first dead's forehead. He took out three more before the zombies even noticed him. Four more stopped their banging at the back of the truck and started hobbling toward the stopped bug.
He fired, again, and again they dropped to the pavement one after another. Eight dead, well dead dead and nine more rounds in the magazine. Slinging the rifle over his shoulders he swung his legs through the window and dropped down to the pavement. He opened the door to the beetle and pulled out a long sturdy crow bar from the back seat and smiled at the blonde sitting there in the passenger seat.
"You can come if you want, only a couple left out there," Asher smiled, knowing she wouldn't know what he said.
He turned from the car to find one of the dead not eight feet from him he took a step back in surprise and lifted his crow bar taking three measured steps forward and bringing the mass of iron down like an axe. He missed the head, sort of, the bar grazing and splitting off the side of the zombies skull and shattering the collar bone as it slammed onto its shoulder. He pulled the bar back as it did so and readied another strike but the zombie dropped a moment later unmoving. Three left, they all knew he was here now and they were coming.
Gratefully the dead weren't known for their collective intelligence, or their individual intelligence for that matter so they approached in a staggered advance. The first corpse in the line was a short female with blonde hair. He wouldn't miss this time.
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Post by India Belikov on Oct 27, 2013 16:24:01 GMT -6
She watched him with admiration as he swung the car around and started to pick off the demons one by one. Yep, definitely made a good decision to stick with him. If he doesn't kill her himself, she'd be safe with him. As the demons were whittled down to three, he said something to her in english, only [come registering in her head. She pulled out her longest knife and pulled herself easily out of the car. Slowly walking over by him, she watched as he took down another one with a metal stick. Well, that was handy. A giant ass stick... The gun he had was more impressive honestly.
Facing the three demons, she veered off to the right, drawing the furthest ones attention. Her knife was raised to the level of her chest and as she swung out a leg gracefully, successfully brought it down to the ground. Jumping atop the filthy thing, she slammed her blade deep into its eye socket, wincing as black blood squirted back onto her top. Pulling the knife out, she rolled off and bounced to her feet, ready for the next demon to come toward her. As it's dead eyes focused on her, India narrowed her own and threw the knife end over end and watched it land into it's temple. The demon lost its balance for a moment but righted itself and started walking toward her again. She didn't throw it hard enough. Charging forward, she leapt up and kicked out her foot, sending the hilt further into the head and effectively killed it. Leaving the last one for her companion, she carefully retrieved her blade and looked toward the trailer curiously. Glancing back to Asher, she nodded her head toward the semi and walked over carefully. Hopefully he took her cue to watch her back.
Stepping over the demons he had dispatched with the rifle, she reached the doors and carefully unlatched one, keeping her hand tightly on the door. She glanced back at Asher and nodded her head before swinging the door open, keeping it infront of her as a shield incase whatever was in there wanted out.
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 27, 2013 23:45:55 GMT -6
Asher leaned his crowbar against the white side of the truck and flipped the SVT-40 up into his hands. He was no more trained than going to the range once in a while but he pulled it tight to his shoulder and whipped around the side of semi to peer into depths of the trailer. And there, a man bleeding from an open wound in his neck leaned against a box, barely breathing. He wouldn't be around long.
The man wore ordinary clothes, no uniform or markings that would distinguish a company. This truck was privately owned. The man would have loved this truck, he couldn't have chosen a better resting place for himself.
"Sir, can you hear me?" Asher called to him.
The man barely stirred.
Taking aim he placed a quick round into the head of the former driver of the white semi. Asher made a quick sign of the cross and pulled the driver from the back of the truck. With a thud the driver landed on the concrete of the road. Head lolling to the side he saw how the back of the mans head was missing after his bullet had ripped through it.
It was then the true impact of what he had just done ripped through him like water through a broken Levee. Call it mercy, call it euthanasia, call it what ever you want to call it. He had just murdered a still living human being. He'd put down, monster after monster masquerading with the faces of friends, family, and co-workers. But until the moment, he never considered what he had done murder. Sinking to his knees next to the body of the man he placed his rifle on the ground next to him and took out his wallet. In there, he had a five dollar bill and a bunch of credit cards that he no longer owed a cent on. He pulled out his license and a pen that was sitting tucked into the front pocket of the drivers shirt.
On his i.d. he wrote "the bullet was mine" and tucked it into the drivers front pocket. He couldn't bring himself to search him for an I.D. but he wouldn't forget his face. Ever.
Another quick sign of the cross and he picked up his rifle and slung it over his back while standing.
Clearing his throat he turned to the Russian, "Well Indiana, we might as well see what's in here," He thumbed toward the truck. Then pushed himself up into the truck bed. Opening the first box, he nearly shouted in joy. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut open another box, then another.
He stood straight up and smiled, turning to her he laughed. Hard, and tossed a can of split pea soup to India.
"Relief truck! A Fucking relief truck! Food! Fucking Food!"
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Post by India Belikov on Oct 28, 2013 0:40:12 GMT -6
Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for a reaction of some sort. Gunfire, or something charging out of the trailer. There was nothing but silence. Opening an eye, she peered around the door and she sighed softly. There was a poor soul slumped against a box. Just from glancing at him, she could tell he didn't have much time left. India watched silently as Asher called out to him, then took aim with his rifle. She jumped at the sudden shot, but said nothing. Even if she wanted to say something, he wouldn't understand her. Looking to the ground, she also made the sign of the cross infront of her.
She quickly stepped back as her companion pulled the body out of the truck. She grimmaced looking at the poor man. She jumped up into the truck, leaving Asher with his deed. It was a horrible thing to have done, but she knew if she held the rifle she would've done the same thing. And she would've felt just as horrible as he was right now. She wished she could just speak to him. With no trouble of understanding each other. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched him come up into the trailer. He spoke to her again, but she didn't understand a word.
Walking over to the box, she observed him opening it and a grin split her face. It was supplies! Loads of supplies! The entire semi was chock full of them. Tents, canned and dry foods, blankets, some first-aid kits. It was everything they could ever need. It must've been some relief supply, heading for a safe zone. She'd no idea how long the truck had been sitting here, she only hoped that it's been a while. She didn't want to feel guilty for taking supplies. But then again, Asher and herself needed them too.
She fought for the english words as she looked to her companion. "Uhm..should... take dis? Is..right?"
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Oct 31, 2013 0:43:08 GMT -6
With one disheartening glance from the beetle to the supplies in the truck, asher kicked a box.
"Yeah take it," Asher said sitting down on the edge of the truck in thought. We won't be able to take much of it. Not too much is going to fit into the car... Other survivors could use the stores in here just as much as they could.
"We can't take all of it, obviously," He looked up and down the road, for as far as he could see the roads were deserted. Not even a deadman to be seen. If he didn't look at the carnage that was all around the truck he could almost pretend that everything was normal. Well that and if he could possibly forget what he had just done. Good luck with that.
Asher stood back up and walked over to the boxes in the truck and started rutting through them. Toward the back of the truck, Asher pulled out a long tall box and dragged it into the light. Opening the end of the box, he looked inside.
"Well, we got lucky with a tent." With an appreciative look on his face ,"I've just been sleeping in the bug. I don't know though. Not sure I like the idea of a tent,"
After a couple moments he pushed the tent aside.
"I dont think I want that," He got back up and walked into the back pulling out a box of canned soups and pushed it to the front. After that, he went back in and pulled out a box of thick heavy blankets. After all, it wouldn't be summer forever.
"One sec, girly. I'm gonna bring the bug up closer."
Asher hopped down onto the pavement and strode over to the beetle, his crow bar leaning against one shoulder and the Rifle slung over the other. Looking to the horizon, he saw dark storm clouds billowing, lighting up with lightening. He didn't like the look of those and doubted the suns strength to keep those nasty things at bay.
They were going to need to find a safe place to stop and soon.
Sliding his crowbar onto the floor behind the front seats he stepped up into the beetle and swung it over toward the back of the semi. Once outside again he popped the hood of his trunk and examined the minimal supplies he had. Two hundred of his rifle rounds,thirty bags of assorted beef jerky and a couple cans of soup. He still had a bit of room in the storage compartment, but he was starting to think he needed to find a roof mount.
That was it! He thought, a roof mount. But where would he find one before the storm hit. He looked around, and didn't really see any signs of a town nearby. For now, he would have to live with storage he had. And he did know where this truck was... But that hoard. Oh lord, the hoard he had driven through. It would make its way down this far eventually. He wasn't sure how long it would take, he had never took the time to study their behavior in a group. They would just kind of follow one another, he had seen a hoard "suddenly" veer off the road and shamble into a field once when he was attaching his blades. They were brainless so.. well, at least as far as he could tell.
So far Asher had been lucky, sticking to the outskirts of major towns and cities to attempt to keep the number of dead at a minimum. But with the food sources running out in the towns. It was starting to look like he was going to have to sleep with one eye open even in the middle of nowhere, because that empty wasteland could rapidly change into the million dead-nigger march.
Packing a couple thick blankets into the very back of the trunk he pushed the box of soups into the back of the trunk. He judged they could squeeze maybe one more full box into the trunk. They would have to pack smart. Inside they could fit one box on the seat between them. Which might be good, he could keep blondie at a distance.
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Post by India Belikov on Nov 2, 2013 6:44:30 GMT -6
When Asher gave the ok, India started searching the boxes. She just wanted to know what was inside them exactly. She got through three boxes of dry food that she couldn't attempt to read or pronounce when he dropped a long box just behind her. Jumping slightly, she whirled around. Muttering some curses, she looked at it and a grin broke out on her face. A tent! She had been worried about their sleeping arrangements, as she did not want to be stuck in that beetle with him day and night. Picking up the long box, she dragged it toward the mouth of the truck and pushed it out, letting it lean against the trailer.
Turning back, she watched as he pulled two boxes toward her. One of cans and one of blankets. Good idea. He sudden;y jumped out of the trailer and started toward his beetle. Was he leaving her? Her worried face calmed when he started the car and pulled it forward, simply running over the demons corpses. She offered him a smile then turned back to the boxes. She picked a random one, somewhere int he middle of the trailer and nearly cried out. "Obuv'!" There was shoes! Sure, they were generic, boring tennis shoes, but anything was better then her pathetic scraps covering her feet. She dug through, praying she'd find her size, or even the next one up. Throwing pairs over her head, she got all the way to the bottom and laughed. Of course they were the last pair in there.
Quickly, she pulled off her old ones and sighed softly when she slipped her foot into the new one. So. Much. Better. She tied them quickly and turned to see he'd already started packing the car, save for her tent. There was also room for one more box, or two. Pursing her lips, she dug around the trailer and found a box of dried fruits. Yep, no way she was not taking this. She pushed the box toward Asher and pointed to it nodding, then pointed to her tent. Had it really come down to charades? What she needed to find was a translation book, and fast.
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Post by Asher Corbeau on Nov 8, 2013 4:27:21 GMT -6
The out break changed alot of people. No horrible pun intended, Asher thought to himself as he finished up packing the bug full to its capacity. he really wished he could have brought more of the trucks supplies. Looking past the model like blonde sitting in new shoes on the back of the truck to the mass amount of supplies that was being left behind. He prayed that some needy individual would stumble out of the city alive and find what they left behind.
He was happy in the most sober kind of way, almost giddy but not happy enough to smile. Standing there staring at the truck far longer than any person in full control of their falculties shoould have he started to drift back into that lonely dark place. The only person he had really had contact with couldn't even speak his language.
The cold lonely place started turning into despair as he looked at the truck. Would the world ever right itself? Or was it righting itself as he thought about it. The fall of Rome was inevitable. The dominion of man, was slowly collapsing in on itself like a dying star. Too dense to hold its own shape. Man was inevitably shrinking to oblivion and only those with enough strength of will would remain whole and standing.
He was starting to doubt his strength of character. He had just killed a man, the storm was closing in faster than he had hoped and behind him he knew in the bottom of his gut was a shambling mass of rotting flesh waiting to rend theirs from their bones. His bones, her bones. Her perfectly shaped, delicate lying cheekbones. No not all women, no all women were liars. He would have to watch her; beneath her pretty exterior was a secret that was kept that way by more than just the language barrier.
He averted his eyes from her, he didn't want her to see his suspicion or mistake it for anything else. He forced his legs to start moving, something he felt he did far too often anymore.
Thunder clashed and he tucked the last box into the bug. Her tent, which she seemed so adamant to bring along. Sleeping outside in a tent was akin to suicide anymore. With the potential for one of the undead to come shambling up to a snoring dinner buffet.
He would be sleeping in the car. Windows up, as tucked down into the seat as he could be. Needless to say he didn't sleep well anymore, he doubted that anyone did. Walking over to the body of the man he shot Asher grabbed him by the wrists and dragged him across the pavement. His boot heels scraping against the highway, he propped him up against the back most wheel well, closed his eyes and crossed his arms in his lap.
It was then that the horrible truth hit him that this wouldn't be the first time he had to kill a man. He didn't even hesitate. What was he becoming?
He punched the side of the truck hard enough to leave a small dent and immediately regretted it. He threw his hand down and spun on his heel, "fuck!"
Opening the door to his car he swung up into the seat, "Come on, Indiana. Get in the car, we've got to find a place to stop for the night,"
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