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Post by Rhinn on Jan 11, 2011 1:30:44 GMT -5
With the barrel of her shotgun, Zoe pushed the door open. She held the stock of the barrel with her hand that held the flashlight. She caught quick movement along with a hiss as something lunged at her. Without thinking, she unloaded both barrels at the attacker, catching it dead center. It exploded in a cloud of white smoke. Zoe wasn't ready for the kick that the shotgun gave her. She was thrown back into Samuel and she dropped the shotgun on the ground. It clattered to the ground, still smoking from the barrels. She shook her head, trying to clear out the ringing. The blast of the shotgun in such close quarters was nearly deafening. She looked up at Samuel with an embarrassed smile.
"Sorry about that. I guess I should practice a little bit with that before blasting away." Zoe grabbed her revolver and pointed it at the doorway, feeling more comfortable with the weapon. She looked down at the bloody spot on the bed where her attacker had been thrown back against the bed and then hit the door. It wasn't a person... much smaller. As she drew closer, she grimace and cursed outloud.
"Looks like I took out the damn family cat." She looked up at Samuel and then, suddenly, started to laugh. The obsurdity of it all was hitting home.
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Post by Mikey on Jan 11, 2011 3:17:01 GMT -5
“Hmm.” Samuel said. It was about all he could say. Not only was his theory way, way the f**k off. Not only did she turn a house cat who may or may not have been a zombie house cat into a grease stain on the wall and bed. Not only did a double barrel twelve gauge make her it’s b*tch. Not only was she laughing about it. Now, the laugher turned contagious.
‘f**k my life…’ Samuel thought, laughter emanating from his mouth as he looked around the room. The sounds merged together in a fit of comedy, her slightly high pitched laugh and his overly deep one. It was almost a minute before he could regain composure.
“You know…” He said, a new fit of laughter overtaking him.
“What if… The cat was named… Spot.” He said, a dark joke as he looked at the blood spot that used to be Spot, or Fluffy, or Mittens or whatever the f**k they had named the thing. Oh god… He was pretty sure he’d burn in hell for stuff like that, but the trip was damn fun.
“Lets…” He said, taking a deep breath and seeming to breath the laughter out of lungs. “Lets go eat something.” He said. His stomach growled then, almost like the sight of the cat had reminded him of a nice juicy steak.
Which it had, on a somewhat subconscious level.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 11, 2011 23:33:37 GMT -5
Zoe wiped the tears from her eyes. "That sounds good. I'm starved." Zoe shut the door on the bloody stain and picked up the shotgun. She popped it open and shucked the two empty shells out on the ground. Then she popped it over her shoulder. She took the bag of shells and handed them over to Samuel.
"You can have them for yours. I'll stick with my revolver and rifle. Trade this puppy in on some ammo at the next town. Now, let's eat."
Zoe began to make her way down the stairs and back toward the den where her bike and her equipment were. As she walked in, she saw that the fire was starting to die down. She tossed a few more logs on the fire and used the poker to stir it back up. Then she tossed the shotgun on the couch and began to open the cans of food. The soup she would put in a large pot and use the shotgun to put it over the fire. The other cans, she opened and dumped on two plates. It would be a few minutes for the soup to be ready so she popped another twinkie in her mouth.
Between bites, she asked. "So what are you going to do tomorrow?"
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Post by Mikey on Jan 13, 2011 11:47:30 GMT -5
Samuel leaned back into the couch and reached into a pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He shook one free of the soft pack, lighting it with the Zippo and leaning back. He accepted the dish from her with a nod of thanks, balancing it on the arm of the couch and taking a deep breath of smoke. As he exhaled, he reached forward and grabbed one of the empty soup cans.
Flicking ash into it as he did, he thought about her question. What was he going to do tomorrow? The obvious answer came to mind, and he voiced it.
“Not a goddamn thing.” He said. It was the truth, but he felt he should explain.
“Probably get drunk again. When the liquor runs out or it isn’t safe anymore, I’ll move and do the same thing somewhere else.” He said. He gave the impression that he was just looking for the time and resources to drink himself to death. God knew he had the right to do it. He had certainly fallen a long way. Back to the old way, what he was happy to do before the outbreaks. Now, after the cleanup had failed and everything was collapsing again, he slipped into old habits.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 14, 2011 19:05:37 GMT -5
Unless the Jefferson Estate had another kitchen, then food and for that matter, alcohol would be in short supply be the end of the week. Zoe sat back on the couch and continued to eat her bowl of soup. Much better than ration bars, she thought. There was a quiet moment as Zoe began to think about what she had planned. While drinking herself into a stupor wasn't high on her list, she realized that she had quit planning long term. At the outbreak, she had planned on things up to a 5 year term. Now, she was down to about 2 weeks at a time. She would either have to come to terms with that... or get to a place where civilization was still intact and start over. "There's still the garage to check out and it seemed to have about 7 garage doors", she said out into the air; not really at Samuel, but loud enough for him to hear. Absently, she grabbed another Twinkie and stuffed it in her mouth, chewing on it as she thought about the estate. "Then there is the basement or storm shelter and the attic." That means I should be hanging around here for another couple of days." She pulled the black box she had taken from the desk in the office from the floor and put it on her lap. "Hey, do you have a ride?" It didn't even occur to her that Samuel had a way out of this area. She hadn't even seen another car in the driveway, so unless he parked outback... Attachments:
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Post by Mikey on Jan 18, 2011 3:20:03 GMT -5
“Ya, I only checked them to make sure they weren’t hiding anybody. Didn’t check the place over for supplies or a car.” He said. They might find some pretty useful stuff yet.
He watched the soup start to bubble, and got up to take it off the fire. Pulling his sleeve back and reaching in quickly, he grabbed the handle of the pot and pulled it out of the fireplace, bringing it back and setting it on the coffee table. Grabbing the small handles, he dumped some soup onto each place, sitting back down and ignoring his own plate for now. He handed her a plate and sat back, still smoking his cigarette.
She asked him about a car, and he looked over at her.
“None to speak of.” He said. He’d been hoofing it everywhere he needed to go lately. He had traded off an old handgun for a ride in this direction some time ago, but he’d been walking everywhere ever since. Sometimes running, but he tried to avoid that when he could. All the smoking was starting to catch up to him.
“So what’s in the box?” He asked her, looking over at the small box she had on her lap.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 21, 2011 0:42:05 GMT -5
Zoe about blasted off with "Mind your own damn business", but she held her tongue. So far Samuel had been nothing but kind... or at least cordial to her. She still had a little reservation about a hulking man that she just met, but the way the world had been turned upside down had changed how she viewed the world.
"I don't know. I found it in the office over there before we met in the kitchen. I couldn't find a key, but I have something that could open it." Zoe turned the box over and examined the lock. It wasn't a true safe... more of a lock box. It could be empty, have papers in it.. or hold a zombie rat. Who knows.
She grabbed a screwdriver from her bag and rammed it into the lock. She heard something inside the lock break so she jammed the screwdriver into the crease between the lid and the bottom of the box. After a few minutes of prying, the lid popped off.
"Frackin' Stang", she exclaimed as she pulled two items from the box. In one hand she had a small .380 handgun. It was the kind that was used as a concealed weapon with a belt clip built into the body of the gun. She shook it and heard something rattle around inside of it.
"Sounds broken." She hit the release on the magazine and dropped it from the handle of the gun. It was empty, so she tossed it onto the table in front of them along with the magazine. Then she looked at Samuel, her face breaking into a huge smile.
"But this might fix it." When her hand pulled out of the box it was holding a strap of cash... all hundreds. She flipped through it. "About $5000.00 dollars here", she said. "That should be enough to drink yourself into oblivion.
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Post by Mikey on Jan 24, 2011 12:52:57 GMT -5
Samuel almost told her to hand over the box so he could open it, watching her struggle with the lock for a moment before he heard something snap. Turning away as a smirk crossed his face, he heard her start to try and pry it open with the screwdriver. Slipping the cigarette butt into an empty bottle, he watched as she got it open, let out an odd exclamation, and started going through the contents. The handgun was pretty much useless. Even if it had worked, he wouldn’t use it. It was a bit too small for him. Then she started counting the cash, telling him how much was there.
“Naw, price of whiskey has gone through the roof.” He answered her, looking at the wad of money. He had about fifteen grand in his pack. All his pay and what he got when he sold a bunch of excess s***. Not a lot of money by some standards, but he hadn’t found a lot of places to use it.
He reached forward and grabbed the bowl of soup, taking a sip of it from the plate before he grabbed a spoon and started in on the noodles.
“So where you heading?” He asked her, finishing the noodles in an instant and reaching for another cigarette. It was a way to beat hunger, smoking so much. He didn’t know if it really worked, but it worked in his mind, and that was good enough most days.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 24, 2011 19:25:58 GMT -5
Zoe put the money back into the box along with the broken gun and shut the lid. There was no locking it now, but that was okay. When Samuel left the room, she would put both items where she secured her belongings. She took another bite of a twinkie, knowing that it wasn't the best thing to eat. She had finished her soup and was pondering just having another bowl so that Samuel didn't eat it all. That was one of the advantages of being small... she didn't require alot of food each day to make it.
She snorted at the questions and spoke like she was talking to a third party.
"Where am I headed... listen to the man. The nearest thing I have in my future to plans is to see if the hot water heater is working and have myself a long hot shower." She looked sideways at Samuel. "Alone. And then I'm going to scout the estate tomorrow. Hopefully I can find enough food to stay here a few days, or maybe a week, but I haven't planned anything really."
The truth of what she said really hit home at that moment. She really had no plans. She was just a parasite, going from host to host, taking what she wanted until it couldn't give anymore and then moving on. Is that what her life had become? What of her sister? She looked over at Samuel.
"I don't know, I figure at some point I'm going to go into Raccoon City for supplies but I'm going to try around here first." She waved her hand to encompass the estate. "I like it here and the likelihood that the owners return are slim to none, but right now, I don't really have a place anywhere."
To keep herself from babbling, she poured herself some more soup and began to eat, not tasting the meal, her mind a thousand miles away.
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Post by Mikey on Jan 24, 2011 21:57:32 GMT -5
An audible chuckle that sounded a lot like a scoff left Samuel’s mouth when she told him she’d be going to the shower alone. She then laid out the rest of her plan, and he thought for a moment.
“One, I’m not into midgets, don’t worry about that. Two, there’s a mini mart down the street a ways, it didn’t look too ransacked. If the search doesn’t go very well here, I’m betting you can find something down there.” He said. He’d seen the place coming in, hadn’t bothered with it. He hadn’t needed anything, and he had been in a hurry to find someplace to sleep.
“You don’t wanna go into Raccoon City.” He said. He actually knew what he was talking about. “Forget the monsters, the real problems are the survivors. Paramilitary, real military, survivors with a chip on their shoulder, dumb asses with guns who think their really badass.” He said. The list could go on. The key thing being, the place was a hell hole. And it wasn’t the monsters who made it that way.
He dropped the cigarette into the bottle and lit another one, inhaling deeply and pushing the empty plate into the middle of the table. He was done eating for the night.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 25, 2011 23:58:11 GMT -5
"Oh so I'm a midget am I?" she remarked with a smirk on her face. "Next you'll be saying that I need to paint myself blue and say 'Smurf this' and 'Smurf that'". She gave him a smile to let him know that she was just kidding. Then she looked at the fire. It seemed to make sense... what he said. It was a start anyway. "It's a plan then. Tomorrow we can start by exploring the grounds with the garage and then make our way down to the market in the next couple of days."
Zoe stood up and grabbed her bag. "But first, I'm going to get a shower." She walked toward the doorway that led to the bathroom and then looked back at Samuel. "But if I come back in here and catch you playing with my underwear, I'll skin your thick hide." She smiled sweetly, but let her tone carry the seriousness of her voice.
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Post by Mikey on Jan 29, 2011 9:57:06 GMT -5
Samuel gave her a sideways glance when she asked if she should make herself up like a Smurf, and he raised his eyebrows.
“Whatever floats your boat, I’m not here to judge.” He responded. She stood up and started making her way to the shower, giving him the last note of the night before she disappeared. He rolled his eyes and took a drag from his cigarette, depositing it into the bottle and looking around. His watch told him how late it was, and his body told him that he needed to get some sleep. The place was locked up again, he knew that from the sweep they’d done. Time to get some shuteye.
He pulled his revolver out of the holster and set it on the couch beside him, letting his hand rest on it as he leaned back on the couch. He closed his eyes, and with practiced discipline, forced himself to fall asleep. He’d be awake in about four hours, and they could start searching the house for supplies.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 29, 2011 16:21:06 GMT -5
Steam and hot water rinsed over Zoe's body, washing away 5 days worth of grime and dirt. Being on the road, traveling from place to place was murder of personal hygiene. So here she was, washing her hair for the 3rd time and scrubbing her body to clean herself of road funk and dead bugs. By the end, the entire bathroom was filled with steam so thick that she wasn't able to see through it. All the while, her revolver sat at within arm's reach of her. Steam and water was not good on the gun so she would have to clean it and oil it tomorrow. But having a damp gun was better than a zombie at your neck.
Zoe shut off the water and grabbed one of the towels. She stepped out of the shower and onto a bathmat and wrapped it around her naked body. Then she grabbed another towel and began to dry her hair. She wiped a hand across the mirror and looked at herself. She had lost some weight with all the traveling, but that was due to going without food every so often than anything else. Having dried her hair off, she dropped the towel from around her body and began to pull clothes out of her bag. She slipped on her undergarments and then pulled over a pair of black sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt. Then she pulled her hair back up into a pony tail and slipped on a pair of new socks and tennis shoes. She had gotten used to sleeping fully clothed as one never knew when they would have to wake up to run for their lives. Then she tossed all her old clothes in the bag and zipped it up. With the place having hot water and some electricity, she would bet that they had a washer and dryer to clean her clothes.
Strapping her holster around her waist, she headed back out to the den. Opening the door, she saw her things just as she had left it, which raised her level of trust of this man Samuel. She shut the door behind her and moved her bike in front of it, blocking it off from anyone on the outside. Then she crept back over to the couch.
Dang it, thought Zoe, upon looking on Samuel's sleeping form. He took the big couch. Well he was the bigger person, she thought, shrugging. So she grabbed one of her blankets and went to another couch that was perpendicular to Samuels. She pulled the old shotgun by her side and loaded it up. Then she made sure her revolver was loaded and tucked it into the seat cushion, barrell facing away from her or Samuel. Then she curled up with the blanket and a pillow, surrendering to sleep for at least a couple of hours.
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Post by Rhinn on Jan 30, 2011 20:29:44 GMT -5
"BLAM, BLAM, BLAM"
The flash of fire from the muzzle of her revolver hid that bullet hitting its target, but there was no denying the sickening sound of the bullet ripping through the head of an undead as it approached her. The head snapped back and the body went down, but Zoe didn't have the luxury of looking at her handiwork. More undead approached. She realized it was a Catch-22. The more she shot, the more that showed up, attracted to the sound. She backed up a few steps and fired again, downing an old lady with half her face eaten off wearing a bloodied duster. Then she turned the gun on the next victim... and she faltered in shooting it. It was her sister, lost all these years ago. She was dead.. or undead, and she had festering bite marks all over her neck and arms. Zoe backed up looking down her arm as her hand began to shake. Her sister lunged at her, grabbing her arm and yanking her to the ground.
Zoe screamed and tried to jerk away but another zombie grabbed her by the leg and bit. She felt excruxiating pain and fell over. As more teeth sank in, she felt a bite from her sister on her neck. Her blood ran all over the zombie and she felt her vision go black.
Zoe sat up on her couch, her feet tangled in the blanket. Her gun was in her hand and she swung it around looking for her attackers. All she saw was the den that she had fallen asleep in. The fire had died down to embers and the sun was just starting to come up, if she could trust the light coming in from the boarded up window.
Wiping her face, she flopped back down onto the couch and worked at controlling her breathing.
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Post by Mikey on Feb 1, 2011 1:53:58 GMT -5
“Bad dreams?” Samuels voice came from his seemingly sleeping form, hearing the noises she had been making. He’d been awake for a while. Ten or twenty minutes. Lead a military life long enough, you picked up a few things. Like f**king insomnia. He’d caught about three hours of sleep and then woke up and laid there for a while. He’d had a few cigarettes and tried to go back to sleep, but it didn’t happen.
“Now you know why I drink.” He said, sitting up and stretching his arms. Typically, when a person got black out drunk, they didn’t dream. Or maybe it was just that they were so f**ked up that they either didn’t notice them or didn’t remember them. He wasn’t a psychiatrist, but the drink kept the dreams away. That’s all he needed to know.
He reached over to grab his duffle bag and drug it over, unzipping it and rummaging through it. He threw a few spare items of clothing onto the floor beside the bag and withdrew the item he was looking for. A full sized Remington 870, twenty two inch barrel and all, in three pieces. Sliding the barrel on, he screwed on the ten shot magazine tube extension to hold it in place and pulled out a small cardboard box of shells. Loading them in one by one, he looked over at her.
“Store or house first?” He asked. “I’m thinking store.” He said. Odds were they may not find much food here, but they’d find plenty at the store. The streets weren’t too populated by those things right now, they should take the window of opportunity while they could. Not to mention, having a good place to fall back to. With the gates, they had plenty of time to make an escape.
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