Post by Sara Artexa Murpheys on Apr 27, 2009 14:04:53 GMT
Sara ran pale, shaking hands down her front, looking at her ruined clothes. She had been wandering around in them for nearly three months, and now the gym was nearly empty, no food, no water... nothing. She didn’t know what to do, if she went outside then she would see those things, whatever they were. They scared her so much, and they smelt terrible. She had seen them wandering around outside at nights when she looked out of the windows. They had bashed around downstairs a few times but she had crawled into the attic and hidden up there, pulling the ladders up so they couldn’t get in. She hoped.
She couldn’t stay here any more, and they didn’t seem to be out as much in the day time, they hid under cars or in alleyways. If she walked on top of the cars she might be okay. Dragging her hands through her hair, she tied the long, somewhat matted blond locks back and tied them with a bungee and glanced out of the windows again.
She had taken a small backpack from the gym shop and in it crammed everything she could, the protein shakes, the water, the bars, everything that was left. On one shoulder was her bow and her arrows were in the quiver on her back. The bow wasn’t perfect but she had good aim and if she drew it back enough it would go through a skull. It had worked in the bathrooms...
Strapping her arm guards on, designed to stop the bowstring cutting at her arms or her wrists snapping back, she opened the door cautiously and stepped out. These clothes were ruined and that was her first priority but she knew of only one clothes shop around here. She ran into the street and scrambled on top of a car and ran as best she could, jogging at her slow and steady pace down the street.
It was only a few streets away and it didn’t take her long to reach the shop and open the door, it was nearly untouched. The shades that had been creeping around in the streets didn’t seem to have taken much interest in the place of white silk and expensive materials. She glared at the bridal wear accusingly, as if it was the fault of the material it hadn’t been made into something more practical. She ran her eyes over the dresses, looking for the one with the least frills and bows, something usable.
It took her nearly half an hour to locate something usable. It the back of the racks there was a dress, rather shorter than the others, with less sequins and substantially less of everything else. It took her a little while to find her way into it, and then realised that perhaps the low cut of the dress would go lost on the zombies, still it gave her a passable cleavage. She giggled aloud at the thoughts that passed through her mind and smiled, twirling around in it a few times before she began to tear and cut off the bits that would get in the way.
When she was finished, she found that at least it was much easier to move, no longer did it have so many layers, but it did have some holes where she had been a little knife happy and made a few mistakes, still, it didn’t matter. She slipped her other clothes into her bag, turning away from them in disgust, ramming them to the bottom in the hope not to need to use them again. As soon as she found another clothes shop she would get something else, anything. A wedding dress is not appropriate zombie raid attire, even for the most fashionable bride.
Opening the door she started down the street, blue eyes darting to every door way, sometimes noticing a small figure who she would promptly avoid, trying to keep as quiet as physically possible. “Hundsohn...” She muttered to herself, frankly worried now that she had left the safety of indoors. She was frightened.
She couldn’t stay here any more, and they didn’t seem to be out as much in the day time, they hid under cars or in alleyways. If she walked on top of the cars she might be okay. Dragging her hands through her hair, she tied the long, somewhat matted blond locks back and tied them with a bungee and glanced out of the windows again.
She had taken a small backpack from the gym shop and in it crammed everything she could, the protein shakes, the water, the bars, everything that was left. On one shoulder was her bow and her arrows were in the quiver on her back. The bow wasn’t perfect but she had good aim and if she drew it back enough it would go through a skull. It had worked in the bathrooms...
Strapping her arm guards on, designed to stop the bowstring cutting at her arms or her wrists snapping back, she opened the door cautiously and stepped out. These clothes were ruined and that was her first priority but she knew of only one clothes shop around here. She ran into the street and scrambled on top of a car and ran as best she could, jogging at her slow and steady pace down the street.
It was only a few streets away and it didn’t take her long to reach the shop and open the door, it was nearly untouched. The shades that had been creeping around in the streets didn’t seem to have taken much interest in the place of white silk and expensive materials. She glared at the bridal wear accusingly, as if it was the fault of the material it hadn’t been made into something more practical. She ran her eyes over the dresses, looking for the one with the least frills and bows, something usable.
It took her nearly half an hour to locate something usable. It the back of the racks there was a dress, rather shorter than the others, with less sequins and substantially less of everything else. It took her a little while to find her way into it, and then realised that perhaps the low cut of the dress would go lost on the zombies, still it gave her a passable cleavage. She giggled aloud at the thoughts that passed through her mind and smiled, twirling around in it a few times before she began to tear and cut off the bits that would get in the way.
When she was finished, she found that at least it was much easier to move, no longer did it have so many layers, but it did have some holes where she had been a little knife happy and made a few mistakes, still, it didn’t matter. She slipped her other clothes into her bag, turning away from them in disgust, ramming them to the bottom in the hope not to need to use them again. As soon as she found another clothes shop she would get something else, anything. A wedding dress is not appropriate zombie raid attire, even for the most fashionable bride.
Opening the door she started down the street, blue eyes darting to every door way, sometimes noticing a small figure who she would promptly avoid, trying to keep as quiet as physically possible. “Hundsohn...” She muttered to herself, frankly worried now that she had left the safety of indoors. She was frightened.
