Post by EZEKIEL AVA DEVEREAUX. on Jul 23, 2013 0:04:23 GMT -5
[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, border-left: #7b7e3f 18px solid; border-right: #7b7e3f 18px solid; background: #313131; padding-top: 15px; padding-right: 15px; padding-left: 15px; padding-bottom: 15px; width: 368px;] darkness there, nothing more DEEP INTO THE DARKNESS PEERING, LONG I STOOD THERE WONDERING, FEARING, DOUBTING, DREAMING. DREAMING DREAMS NO MORTAL DARED EVER DREAM BEFORE. BUT THE SILENCE WAS UNBROKEN--------------------- Boots crunched the fallen debris on the ground, despite how lightly she stepped. Each time she slipped, the sound echoed; reminding her that no matter how careful she was, there's always a chance she could make a mistake. She had to be alert, the sounds reminded her. Any step, from a shift of a trash bag or an item falling from behind her, could be her last. A gloved hand that was holding her leather jacket waved over the edge of the window, throwing the material over the broken glass that had once made up one of the many windows of the clinic. A head peered through the window and studied the inside- listening raptly to the sounds made within- and after a moment there was the sound of rustling clothing as two hands grabbed the edge of the window, hoisting herself up and swinging a leg over, her body landing nimbly on the worn, muddy linoleum flooring. She grabbed the jacket and quickly shrugged it on, leaning over on the outside to grab her bow. On her back was a casing filled with twenty arrows or so- and over it was a small satchel- empty save for a few gauze rolls within, it was intended to be filled up with whatever she could find within the confines of this small clinic. Most likely there wasn't much left here that she could salvage, though she had insisted to herself- as a method of motivation- that she never knew what she would find that others would believe to be useless, and maybe said item could save her life. She honestly didn't really believe what she was telling herself, yet there she was, crowding against the wall next to the crooked door, careful not to push up against it and damage the already loose hinges, an eye constantly flickering from one spot to the next, focusing on every movement that she could see in her perpetual vision as soon as her reaction time allowed her. She's come to learn that time could either do wonders on a person or completely destroy them, and for Zeke, it had seemed to have done an unpleasant mixture of both- turning her into a paranoid, calculative being. Twitchy, from her sporadic movements of her pointer finger tapping on the plastic of the bow to the constant tongue that licked her dry lips as she studied her surroundings, down to the flickering gaze form one spot to the next, her mind taking in everything at once and trying its hardest to put everything to memory- and when it could- pulled the memories from the deep recess of her mind, such as this moment as it made a poor attempt to remember how the layout of the building was set up the last time she was here. She had only been in here once, it was the second day of her arrival in San Francisco- and it was teeming with infected and the dead alike- though the body count that littered the lawn where the rose bushes had been was considerably less then it was now. She didn't dare enter it alone, but she could recall the shudder that went through her at the sight- having never been fond of hospitals, or even seeing the doctor for that matter. She had spent a lot of time in the white-washed walls and stared too long at the cheesy posters that lined the walls for the younger kids- having broken bones, and rib fractures, cuts and scrapes from every scuffle that she's ever been in when she was younger and back at home. Maybe it wasn't so much as the experience that she hated, but the obvious fact of what came afterwards: being home bound for almost a month, unable to get out of the house and just run; and it's become a cruel irony that now all she ever does it run. Run and never look back. It was like something from a horror movie- she'd always enjoyed horror and suspense- but now that she was living in a constant, never ending movie- she hated it. And would have longed for punches and idle threat over this. Over the constant wonder that she could be dead at any moment Snapping out her daze, she turned to look at what was happening outside. It wasn't completely silent, but the crowding of the walkers seemed to be a few rooms west of her and some outside- hence her sneaking in through the side of the building, and she was sure she could sneak down the hall and grab some of the medical kits- or really anything she could get her hands on. In a time like this one, there really wasn't an option about being picky. Notching an arrow, the female drew it back silently, shifting her weight to the back of her heels as she leaned back, raising the bow and aiming it at one of the walkers- who was standing on the other side of the front desk- carefully before letting the arrow fly- finding itself embedded halfway through the eye of the monster. There was a lifeless jerk of limbs before it collapsed like a sack of flour, leaving an opening for her to get to. One foot moved to the other side as she crept to the side of the door, cracking it open just enough to be able to peer down the hall for any signs of life. Just like that- three arrows were already gone. It wasn't until she deemed it safe did she finally snaked out of the room, jogging to retrieve the arrows before heading to the front desk, her eyes concentrating on the door that was in the east wing- where she knew was generally filled with storage items- from needles to IV bags and various other things. It could be empty, though it couldn't hurt to check. She was reminded of being back in her small town again, where life was a bore and she had decided to volunteer at a local clinic for a scholarship opportunity. She really hated it- her mind connecting the sickness of the patients with death. It was either patients who were either constantly in pain and were seniors- or teenagers who stupidly overdosed. Four hours of absolute misery was what came to mind when she heard the word 'clinic' or 'hospital', and it amused her so that, so long ago, she swore she wasn't going to be willingly brought to a place such as this one. Only kicking and screaming. Oh how things have changed. Fixing the bow on the bow sling, she pulled out her knife from its casing at the back of before stalking down the hall, fingers compromising the hilt as she adjusted and readjusted her grip on the weapon. Of course, there was a minor delay as her fingers turned the knob of the door, where she belatedly realized that she didn't check to hear if there was anyone- or rather, this case- anything- inside as she was too busy daydreaming, and when she was presented with a roomful of the dead staring at her, a curse escaped her lips and she hurriedly shut the door. Just as she was in the process of doing so, they made a scramble to get out- attempting to push it open. It caused enough of a ruckus to bring a few more walkers in from both the front and back door. Oh dear, she thought, as she slammed her shoulder against the wood, shutting it as quickly as she could, and making a run for it down the west wing of the hall. |