L
Little.Fox
Guest
Original poster
The young woman walked down the middle of the road,
her bare clad feet slapping against the pavement, adding the to the harmony of the birds singing merrily between the few golden red leaves left on the shedding trees. The road was still damp from the small rain storm earlier which had blown the falling leaves piled in the un-kept lawns of the neighbor hood. They stuck to the road so thick it blocked out the shiny black asphalt. Suddenly the image of the yellow brick road appeared in her head and she caught herself laughing aloud as she started to skip along, kicking up the loose leaves on the street.
"Follow the yellow brick road, follow the yellow brick road. Follow the, follow the, follow the, follow the, follow the yellow brick road."
The worn leather bag she was never seen without bounced against her back with each hop, the contents bouncing against each other producing small chimes, like when coins or keys toss around inside a coat pocket. Though the sound was just audible over the solid thump of the compound bow strapped to it. In one had she carried a small, terribly dented, metal lunch box which even through its wear still held the picture of the lone ranger and his trusty steed. In the other a very different looking scene, as if somehow the right hand attached to the woman wasn't her own. In the hand of the happily skipping green hair woman was a metal bat, nearly half as tall as she herself. Though that's not where the malice of it ended, toward the end of the bat it became more sinister. The metal bat had been modified with four inch metal spikes which wrapped around its circumference and top.
Suddenly the woman stopped skipping, sliding slightly to a stop, as she whipped her body around. Her wavy green hair catching the wind and blowing across her piercing eyes which narrowed as she peered back down the street in the direction she had been coming from. Though as she listened, trying to hear the faint noise again she started to doubt herself. Blaming the noise on nothing but the hopeful wishing of someone who had been wandering alone for far to long. She was about to turn around and brush it off when she heard it again. The low rumbling of something off in the distance. Though as the seconds passed she could tell it was getting closer, a motor, a car perhaps. But cars hadn't ran since "The Pulse" nothing had worked, no cellphones, radios, TVs, and and Brooks least favorite, no running water or working plumbing. For a girl who didn't particularly like being dirty this was her own personal hell.
Tires squealing brought her back to the present, yep it was definitely a car … but how. Suddenly she heard it again though this time it was much closer. Who could it be, sure as heck wasn't our visitors. They traveled in drones, and their hello was snatching you with a very sinister looking claw.
Gangs?
But she was in the suburbs, what gang would be out here when all the action and chaos and general gang related activities took place underground in the city where the remaining survivors hid underground, burrowed away like rats.
Not the time to think about it, now is the time to MOVE BROOK!
Her brain screamed at herself as she made a dive for the nearest car. Do to her dawdling there was no time for her to make into a house not when the yards where this big. They would be on her before she could open a door, breaking a window wasn't an option it would draw attention when the neighborhood was this undisturbed. In her hurry she slid on the wet leaves she had to throw out her hands to catch herself sending the bat skittering across the street into the gutter. She landed in a comical runners pose and had to scramble for a few precious seconds to get purchase. The tires screamed one last time and she knew they were on her.
She made it behind the car but a feeling of dread settled in her stomach, she knew she had been seen … she had taken too long. The car came to a stop behind her, she could tell by the hum of the engine. Quickly she opened the lunch box revealing a revolver stored inside nestled inside a black piece of foam cut exactly to fit. She pulled it out, flipped open the cylinder checking that the chambers were loaded and flipped it shut again finishing by pulling back the hammer. She heard one of the doors of the car creak open, passenger she assumed.
Good, means the driver wont likely be armed and they are closer to me, gives me a bargaining chip…just in case
With a final breath she stood up, the gun gripped firmly in her hand and a smirk plastered across her crimson colored lips. Even if she was scared to her core she wasn't going to let them see that.
"Well howdy folks. Out for a leisurely drive I see."
This is the last time I travel during the day … if I get out of here alive ….
Name: Brooklyn Miller
Date of Birth: March 24th / 23 years old.
Place of Birth: California
Place of Current Residence: Currently wandering Seattle.
Gender: Female
Species/Racial Origin: Uninfected human
Social Class/Community Status:
No gang or group ties. She had been in a group of 12 but they had been raided just two nights before and she had been separated from the two remaining survivors in the chaos of fleeing the Alien ambush.
Language: English, Survivors Code
Family/Friends/Pets/Etc: None
Date of Birth: March 24th / 23 years old.
Place of Birth: California
Place of Current Residence: Currently wandering Seattle.
Gender: Female
Species/Racial Origin: Uninfected human
Social Class/Community Status:
No gang or group ties. She had been in a group of 12 but they had been raided just two nights before and she had been separated from the two remaining survivors in the chaos of fleeing the Alien ambush.
Language: English, Survivors Code
Family/Friends/Pets/Etc: None
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