H
HeliumJack
Guest
Original poster
Elana took a few steadying breaths, peering down through the dense foliage she had wedged herself into. She had clambered up a tree a few hundred feet or so, trying to get a good look at the clearing up ahead. Most importantly, she was trying to inspect the fairly large, old, and somewhat decaying, house in the clearing, for any possible life, or the undead that had taken over. A few months ago, although Elana had never been certain of what happened, and honestly she didn't think anyone did, people had suddenly been getting bitten by people who acted as if they had freaking crazy rabies. The disease had spread rapidly, and most of what Elana saw at this point was just zombie towns starving for brains.
Elana herself had been lucky. She had been out camping with her dad, far from civilization. When they entered town for supplies, they had found it empty except for a small number of zombies. It didn't take her dad long to realize what was going on, so they got supplies to last for a long while, packed up their gear, and began moving to somewhere hopefully safer. They had had no close family, as her mother had long left her father, so it was just the two of them for a good while. Her dad had taught her everything he knew about surviving, like skinning animals and making fire and potable water, but regretfully fell asleep during his watch one night, and was killed. Elana had managed to get away after his warning shout, and set out on her own after gathering what supplies they had in the morning, and she had been alone since.
Since she had started traveling alone, she had only seen hostile groups of survivors, who wouldn't ever let her get close enough to them to even speak, warning her off with guns and knives. So, Elana had been alone since her father passed, and most of the time she was content.
However, being alone had it's downsides. Like her situation now. She wished ruefully that she had someone watching her back while she scouted closer to the house. It was only a small clearing, and although she didn't see any at the moment, if a zombie stumbled up and saw her, she would have to abandon the house and dash and hope no others had gotten close in the trees without her seeing them. She would have to risk it though.
Elana shimmied carefully back down the tree, the bark scratching the few patches of bare skin. She was wearing a worn but comfortable old black duster coat she had found while she scavenged an empty home a few towns back. It was a bit big on her, but it offered camouflage during the night, and a thick padding between her skin and any surprise zombie chomps. Her cargo pants were a brownish gray, tucked into dark brown boots. Not fashionable by any stretch, but it had kept her from being bitten many times before.
On the ground, Elana crouched, and began slowly making her way to the house in the clearing, eyes constantly searching ahead and to the sides of her, and every so often she'd glance behind her, hand firm on her hatchet, her weapon of choice. She had a pistol strapped to her, the only gun she had been able to find ammo for, but she disliked using it heavily, not liking the attention it potentially drew to her by anyone.
Getting to the house probably only took her under a minute, but while vulnerable, it was definitely far too long. She had approached the big decaying thing from the side, and as she reached the wall, Elana stopped and put her back to it, still crouched, looking for any new surprises. None. Awesome. After ensuring she was alone on her side of the house, she crept towards the corner, intending to make it to the probably hazardous and overgrown back porch. The bushes she could see already from where she was would hide any zombie from the tree she had climbed, a potential hazard, but she could take one or two out, and the bushes would hide her from any others that decided to explore the clearing, at least until she could get inside.
Elana got to the corner, where the fenced porch began, and gently, carefully, pried one of the branches way from the house to open up the main part of the porch to her view.
Empty. Whew. Relieved, she let go of the branch just as carefully, and made a quick and hopefully silent dash to and up the stairs, making her way to the corner to her direct left, crouching between two bushes that would keep her hidden while she appraised the best way to get into the home, through one of the surprisingly unbroken windows, or breaking in the door.
Elana herself had been lucky. She had been out camping with her dad, far from civilization. When they entered town for supplies, they had found it empty except for a small number of zombies. It didn't take her dad long to realize what was going on, so they got supplies to last for a long while, packed up their gear, and began moving to somewhere hopefully safer. They had had no close family, as her mother had long left her father, so it was just the two of them for a good while. Her dad had taught her everything he knew about surviving, like skinning animals and making fire and potable water, but regretfully fell asleep during his watch one night, and was killed. Elana had managed to get away after his warning shout, and set out on her own after gathering what supplies they had in the morning, and she had been alone since.
Since she had started traveling alone, she had only seen hostile groups of survivors, who wouldn't ever let her get close enough to them to even speak, warning her off with guns and knives. So, Elana had been alone since her father passed, and most of the time she was content.
However, being alone had it's downsides. Like her situation now. She wished ruefully that she had someone watching her back while she scouted closer to the house. It was only a small clearing, and although she didn't see any at the moment, if a zombie stumbled up and saw her, she would have to abandon the house and dash and hope no others had gotten close in the trees without her seeing them. She would have to risk it though.
Elana shimmied carefully back down the tree, the bark scratching the few patches of bare skin. She was wearing a worn but comfortable old black duster coat she had found while she scavenged an empty home a few towns back. It was a bit big on her, but it offered camouflage during the night, and a thick padding between her skin and any surprise zombie chomps. Her cargo pants were a brownish gray, tucked into dark brown boots. Not fashionable by any stretch, but it had kept her from being bitten many times before.
On the ground, Elana crouched, and began slowly making her way to the house in the clearing, eyes constantly searching ahead and to the sides of her, and every so often she'd glance behind her, hand firm on her hatchet, her weapon of choice. She had a pistol strapped to her, the only gun she had been able to find ammo for, but she disliked using it heavily, not liking the attention it potentially drew to her by anyone.
Getting to the house probably only took her under a minute, but while vulnerable, it was definitely far too long. She had approached the big decaying thing from the side, and as she reached the wall, Elana stopped and put her back to it, still crouched, looking for any new surprises. None. Awesome. After ensuring she was alone on her side of the house, she crept towards the corner, intending to make it to the probably hazardous and overgrown back porch. The bushes she could see already from where she was would hide any zombie from the tree she had climbed, a potential hazard, but she could take one or two out, and the bushes would hide her from any others that decided to explore the clearing, at least until she could get inside.
Elana got to the corner, where the fenced porch began, and gently, carefully, pried one of the branches way from the house to open up the main part of the porch to her view.
Empty. Whew. Relieved, she let go of the branch just as carefully, and made a quick and hopefully silent dash to and up the stairs, making her way to the corner to her direct left, crouching between two bushes that would keep her hidden while she appraised the best way to get into the home, through one of the surprisingly unbroken windows, or breaking in the door.