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☣ || Tʜᴇ Oɴᴇs ᴛʜᴇ Wᴏʀʟᴅ Fᴏʀɢᴏᴛ
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E L L E
(last edited Oct 25, 2015 04:10PM)
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Oct 25, 2015 04:06PM
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☣ || Sᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Iɴ Sᴜʙᴜʀʙᴀɴ Pᴇɴɴsʏʟᴠᴀɴɪᴀ...
Abbie awoke with a start, abruptly sitting up on the couch she’d used as a bed the night before. The roughly woven blankets were screwed up by her feet, hanging over the edge of the filthy thing. She was absolutely freezing, skin prickling with gooseflesh and neck stiff with the chill. But as she sat there - the first light of the morning creeping through the window - Abbie suddenly realised it wasn’t the cold that had pulled her into consciousness. The noise was so quiet at first that Abbie was certain she’d dreamt it. Only now as she listened carefully did the sounds come back in perfect clarity. Gunshots. The muted crack of a rifle and then the peppering of a small firearm. Max who had been still and silent until then raised his head from his paws and let out a low pitchy whine. Abbie pressed a finger to her lips and carefully swung her legs over the side of the couch, slipping on her boots as she strained to listen.
As she pulled the laces tight, a car rumbled to life outside. It couldn’t have been more than a street away, a low throaty hum coupled by raised male voices. Abbie swallowed, the first glimmer of panic tightening her chest as she moved silently over to the window. With her back pressed against the wall she could just about see through the murky glass, down to the street outside the window. A few zeds littered the street, shuffling aimlessly in the light of the unbroken dawn, their dead eyes staring vacantly into the distance. Abbie had been afraid of them once, but that was a long time ago. There was no need to be frightened of the dead now, it was the living you had to fear.
Crack! Another gunshot sounded and one of the walkers crumpled against the tarmac. There were whoops and yells from the end of the street and Abbie - barely daring to breathe - crouched by the window to watch as the men sauntered forward to inspect their kill. They hung around for a few minutes, chatting and absently kicking at the rotting head of the zombie at their feet. That was when an engine roared to life at the end of the street and the vehicle Abbie had heard before skidded to a halt in front of them. She leaned back away from the window again, keeping out of sight as the men clambered into the jeep.
“Well would ya look at all em’ rotters!” one of the men said.
“Yeah well we better get outta here, ya hear that?” a pause, then the man continued, "Sounds like we got ourselves a horde comin’.”
With that, the vehicle rumbled to life once again and sped off down the street, disappearing around the corner. When Abbie was sure they were gone she finally felt herself breathe again. Max who had been pacing back and forth between the window and the door, stopped to come and push his wet nose against her palm.
“I know old boy, I know,” Abbie muttered, tucking her hair behind her ear as she moved to pack up her things.
It didn’t take all that long. She’d barely had time to bring anything from her home in Virginia and picking up stuff along the way just gave you more weight to carry. Slinging her rucksack over her shoulder, Abbie checked her map and then grabbed her father’s glock off the side table. She paused for half a second to look at it before tucking it into the back of her jeans and heading for the door. It took her a few minutes to shift the cabinet from where she’d wedged it up against the frame the night before, but after a few minutes of manoeuvring it this way and that Abbie had finally made enough room for her and Max to squeeze through.
They made their way downstairs with Abbie choosing to head out of the backdoor and into the gardens instead of out to the road. It seemed safer, especially with zeds and raiders walking the streets. Pulling aside a loose fence panel she let Max trot through first before following him into the neighbouring yard, wary of attracting the attention of zombies or humans alike.
