Post by Svernic Borcopf on Apr 11, 2009 19:07:30 GMT
"Shit," Svernic grumbled, booting a pile of rubble with his steel capped toes, vaporising it to dust and smaller pieces of rubble that bounced around onto other pieces of rubble.
It was a reckless move, the infected loved sound and that was far too much sound to be making, he had learned that the hard way.
Thomas had died learning the hard way.
The image of that elevator free falling, cable in tow, down the shaft, hurt Svernic hard. Things falling and people dieing seemed to be a common theme in Svernic's life, he lay his trusty sledgehammer on the wall making sure it wouldnt fall.
Lifting the visor of his welding mask up he pulled down the once white hanker chief that covered his mouth, taking in a deep breath. The smell of methane still hung around the shops, this must have been the cafe at the centre of the blast, fire scorched wall paper hung from the walls, soot covered green that looked like strange skin peeling from a skull. The ruined counter in the corner was partly blasted away, the splitered wood was tipped with gore, something had hurt itself there and by the look of the blood it was only a few days away.
The till was still sitting on top of the counter, Svernic was tempted too pop it open and take a look, he even got so close as to touch the old brass cover before he remembered coming here when the city was still alive.
He came in through the door, pushing it open with a strong hand and the door sweeping open and triggering a tiny bell up above his head. Its cheerful ring drawing the attention of the nice old lady behind the counter as she asked what he would have.
Coffee had seemed nice and the scone behind the sneeze guard was too tempting to pass up. He had pulled the change out of the pocket in his working clothes and fished out the money for the snack.
The old lady punched in the numbers and opened the till with a cheery ping.
The cheery ping would kill him here.
His hand shot back as if he had been shocked by the cash machine and he began rooting around the rest of the store.
The glint of steel on the floor caught his eye and he scraped the dirt away, knowing how well canned food would keep.
The label had been scraped away ages ago, the metal was blackened and the minnestroni soup was slowly seeping into the dirt by a one centimetre hole in the side.
The worm slithering into the hole against the torrent of soup didnt look healthy either, it should have been pink and healthy, if it had been he would have eaten that too, but it looked pale, even green in the fading light.
It was probably as tainted as the soup was.
Grumbling curses he took a look around, nothing else caught his eye, except the old police building, he remembered working on it, that was why he had been here all those years ago.
He had done some repair work inside the building.
He remembered seeing the gunshots, including the blood filled ones, in a wall in the reception area. Not only that but the broken wooden bench they watched being removed as they worked. Someone had thrown a body through that thing by the look of things, kicking off the gunshots and the bloodstains they had dealt with.
He scanned over the building, it was pretty much the same, the steel bars were still on the windows and the doors were still on the frames, it would have been a good place to fortify and hold out through the infection. But something kept him away from that place, it seemed full, something said that it was inhabited, he wasnt willing to risk it being a bunch of infected.
For some reason he felt his hammer call to him, so he pulled up his mouth covering bandana, fixed his face mask and picked it up, giving in too his urges to be next to his only friend in the world as something shifted in the air.
It was a reckless move, the infected loved sound and that was far too much sound to be making, he had learned that the hard way.
Thomas had died learning the hard way.
The image of that elevator free falling, cable in tow, down the shaft, hurt Svernic hard. Things falling and people dieing seemed to be a common theme in Svernic's life, he lay his trusty sledgehammer on the wall making sure it wouldnt fall.
Lifting the visor of his welding mask up he pulled down the once white hanker chief that covered his mouth, taking in a deep breath. The smell of methane still hung around the shops, this must have been the cafe at the centre of the blast, fire scorched wall paper hung from the walls, soot covered green that looked like strange skin peeling from a skull. The ruined counter in the corner was partly blasted away, the splitered wood was tipped with gore, something had hurt itself there and by the look of the blood it was only a few days away.
The till was still sitting on top of the counter, Svernic was tempted too pop it open and take a look, he even got so close as to touch the old brass cover before he remembered coming here when the city was still alive.
He came in through the door, pushing it open with a strong hand and the door sweeping open and triggering a tiny bell up above his head. Its cheerful ring drawing the attention of the nice old lady behind the counter as she asked what he would have.
Coffee had seemed nice and the scone behind the sneeze guard was too tempting to pass up. He had pulled the change out of the pocket in his working clothes and fished out the money for the snack.
The old lady punched in the numbers and opened the till with a cheery ping.
The cheery ping would kill him here.
His hand shot back as if he had been shocked by the cash machine and he began rooting around the rest of the store.
The glint of steel on the floor caught his eye and he scraped the dirt away, knowing how well canned food would keep.
The label had been scraped away ages ago, the metal was blackened and the minnestroni soup was slowly seeping into the dirt by a one centimetre hole in the side.
The worm slithering into the hole against the torrent of soup didnt look healthy either, it should have been pink and healthy, if it had been he would have eaten that too, but it looked pale, even green in the fading light.
It was probably as tainted as the soup was.
Grumbling curses he took a look around, nothing else caught his eye, except the old police building, he remembered working on it, that was why he had been here all those years ago.
He had done some repair work inside the building.
He remembered seeing the gunshots, including the blood filled ones, in a wall in the reception area. Not only that but the broken wooden bench they watched being removed as they worked. Someone had thrown a body through that thing by the look of things, kicking off the gunshots and the bloodstains they had dealt with.
He scanned over the building, it was pretty much the same, the steel bars were still on the windows and the doors were still on the frames, it would have been a good place to fortify and hold out through the infection. But something kept him away from that place, it seemed full, something said that it was inhabited, he wasnt willing to risk it being a bunch of infected.
For some reason he felt his hammer call to him, so he pulled up his mouth covering bandana, fixed his face mask and picked it up, giving in too his urges to be next to his only friend in the world as something shifted in the air.
