Status: Alive
Name: Connor Albright
Location: Outskirts of Pine Falls
Mentions:
@Zarko Straadi
Interactions: Briar Rose Chadbury
***
It wasn't very hot, but Connor could feel the sun against his face. He welcomed the relief that came as he passed under a long canopy of trees that blocked out the light. It was just past midday, and as he looked at his watch, he concluded he'd been driving for nearly two-and-a-half hours. He looked down at his bike's gas meter, and saw it was only two lines above empty. With a sigh, he released the accelerator knob and slowed applied pressure to the break switch, pulling off to the shoulder of the road. As the bike glided to a halt, Connor felt it rock slightly backwards, the hydraulics on wheels bouncing as he leaned against his handles. He shut the bike off, the trill of the engine slowly ceasing and dying until the area fell silent. He glanced towards the rearview mirror on the right side of the bike, seeing his slightly dirty face. His beard was untrimmed, his brown hair unwashed, and he felt like his teeth were rotting out of his skull. He hadn't been able to find toothpaste since last week.
As the young man leaned against the handlebars, he steadied himself with his long legs. He released a deep sigh that sounded dry and raspy. He swallowed, then reached back to his brown rucksack and removed a water bottle from the side pocket. He uncapped the bottle and took a long, refreshing swig of it. It wasn't cold, but it did the trick for now. He put the water bottle away and swung himself over the right side of the bike. He stood his full height of six feet and three inches and stretched out the muscles in his torso. He then rolled the bike off the road and went a few feet into the tree line. He deployed the kickstand and gently let the bike stand alone. Connor didn't currently have much, but his dirt bike was his most prized possession. He'd modified it himself in high school so that it would be legal to drive on the streets. It had a headlight, taillight, turn signal, and tires that allowed him to ride on and off road.
Presently, he slid his rucksack from his shoulders, and let it gently rest on the ground. He sat down and looked around him as he laid his elbows against his knees. As far as he could tell, he was in the middle of nowhere. There were tall trees, most of them pine, as far as the eye could see. The area seemed pristine, except for the scar that man had left behind in the form of a road. He reached into his back pocket and produced the tightly folded map of Oregon. He pulled it open and it became several times bigger. He found where he'd last gotten off the interstate, about a half hour before. He reasoned that he'd gone about fifteen miles from there. He placed himself where he guessed he'd reached, and then found the red circle, a little ways north on the map. Inside the circle was a dot, labeled, "Pine Falls."
Supposedly the place was safe for survivors. It was boasted to be completely void of walking corpses, unlike the rest of the country. He made an estimation and decided he still had about an hour to an hour-and-a-half until he reached the dot on the map. It looked like he would only have to turn roads once more until it was a straight shot. Connor folded the map and put it back in his pocket, looking back across the road, his eyes wandering blankly.
Connor turned and reached to his rucksack. Strapped to the top of the pack was a black camera bag, which contained his second most prized possession, his Canon. He felt the slight urge to take it out and snap some pictures, but he opted not to. Instead he leaned back against his knees and sat in silence for a few minutes.
As if it were an unprovoked movement, he reached to the front pocket of his jeans and removed his wallet, a worn, leather fourfold. In one of the clear, laminate pockets was a picture. In the picture were seven people - his family. It had been there Christmas card picture, last year. In the back row were him and his brothers, Danny and Mason. In the middle row were his two sisters, Addison and Cassidy. Sitting on a wooden bench on the front row were his parents, Eric and Alaina Albright. He gazed at the photo for a long moment, hanging his head downward as memories flooded him. He looked back at the picture; it was a bit tattered from being squeezed in his wallet. He didn't care, though - he had a digital copy on his camera and storage disk in his camera bag.
He placed the photo back into his wallet, then reached behind an old debit card, feeling the paper of another photo. This one was much more worn, and about seven years older. [spoili]
[/spoili] The picture was of a girl, whose name was Jessica Madison. It was taken when she was eighteen, and Connor knew this because he'd taken the picture, and he'd even submitted it to his school photography contest and won. That had been three weeks before she died. Memories flooded him; memories of the girl he'd wanted to marry. Seven years later, the picture still caused him to fight back tears. He closed his eyes and pressed the photo to his lips, denying the urge to cry. Connor wasn't a wimp, and not much could make him cry... but this photo was one of the only things that could. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.
"We'll be safe, real soon, Jess." He said in his slight southern drawl.
Before emotion could take over him, he put the photo away and folded his wallet, placing it back in his pocket. He stood, wiping away the moisture that had begun to peek at his eyelids. He bent over and grabbed his pack off the ground and shouldered it. He walked back to his bike and kicked the stand that held it upright. He wheeled the ride back to the road and pointed it north, towards Pine Falls. He swung his legs over it and turned the key to prime the engine. His right boot found the kick pedal on the side of the bike, and he stomped on it, prompting the ignition to rattle and then roar to life. He pumped the gas handle and sped forward, hopefully towards a safe haven.
He reached the edge of the town faster than he'd originally thought he would, but he still decided to get off of his bike, since running of out of gas while on was not good for the engine. He switched the bike off and began rolling it forward, slowly make his way down the street. The town was pretty small, from what he could see. It was even smaller than his hometown. He felt a small gut notion that this seemingly deserted town wasn't as deserted as it appeared. He heard a slight noise, but he couldn't decipher what it had been.
He slid his rucksack off and unclipped a smaller pocket on the front of the bag. Inside the pocket was a silver revolver with a black handle. The ammunition cylinder, loaded with .44 Magnum rounds, had been removed for safety precautions. He grabbed the cylinder and reinserted it in into the revolver, but leaving the safety off. He'd been around guns his whole life, so he'd be a fool if he accidentally shot himself in the foot. He put his pack over his shoulders and continued walking with his bike being guided by his left hand and his gun in the other. He rounded the street corner and peered to the end of it.
To his surprise, the source of the noise wasn't a bandit or a zombie, but instead, a rather small little girl. He frowned as she peered at her bicycle. He kicked down the stand of his own bike and stepped a few feet from it.
"Excuse me?" He called, placing his gun on the ground. It was a little girl, what harm could he do?
"Is this Pine Falls? My names Connor... I saw the flyers..."
