Shopping
Isaac sat in the armored car, looking down at his M4. She was pretty dirty. He knew that they would have to stop eventually and get some Hobbes and some gun cleaning kits. Ah, and the truck. We're gonna need gas. And ammo, too. The only question was how the others would take the news. It was about two hours after the battle of downtown. He glanced at Brian. He was twitching periodically. The shakes. Common among black ops troopers after an op. Not like it was bad or anything, it's just that the people they were fighting weren't people, really. People don't take shotgun blast after shotgun blast and keep on coming. And like Casey said, there are probably millions upon millions in the United States alone right now. Hopefully the other nations in the world got the picture and sealed off their borders.
And what if they didn't? It'll be a slow end for mankind. Safehouses will collapse, and each day the undead will grow in number. This is all fucked up. Thank you, Cold War paranoia.
David looked over at Isaac. "Mr. President, we're runnin' low on gas. I suggest we get some, pronto. There's a Wally World down the street."
"Yeah, there are a few things we need to get." Isaac replied.
Jenny sat up suddenly, and started screaming at the top of her lungs. "NO! I'M NOT GOING OUT THERE! I WANT TO LIVE, DAMN IT!"
Chris joined the yelling match. "Bitch, we ain't gonna live if we don't get gas for this fuckin' car. And we definitely not 'gon live if we don't clean our guns."
Tears streamed down Jenny's face. "Fuck you, you fucking n-"
"QUIET!" Isaac shouted with such power that the car seemed to shake. "If there's one thing that I can't stand, it's racism. Jenny, apologize to Chris. David, stop the car. It doesn't matter if you're blue, green, yellow, or purple. If you can fight alongside with me against the creatures, then you're fine with me. You, me, and everyone else that's still alive knows that we need gas, ammo, and cleaner if we're going to stay alive. And Jenny, if you're still going to be a pessimist then you're welcome to go outside and push." Isaac smirked sarcastically at Jenny, who absentmindedly stroked her hair.
"Now, let's go shopping. Brian, you coming?"
Brian looked up. His eyes darted back and forth, and his hands shook like a leaf. "May-maybe later..." Isaac made a mental note to get Brian some cigarettes or Valium before they headed to the safehouse.
Isaac, Jenny, and Chris piled out of the armored car. Isaac sliced the pie, SWAT jargon for slowly clearing the blind spots, weapons hot, one intense degree at a time. Chris opened the door of the Wal-Mart, his Beretta at the ready. Jenny didn't really know anything about firearms, so she stuck by Chris. No better time to learn then the present. Muzak music still piped down from the speakers on the ceiling. Isaac figured that the power grid was still active in D.C. Isaac pointed to an aisle which bore the name Automotive Supplies. Chris nodded and darted down the aisle, seemingly gliding with each step. Isaac walked hesitantly to the back of the store. People think that men who work in the legislative branch are rich. Hell no. Even when he was a congressman, he shopped at Wal-Mart. Glass crunched under his Armani dress shoes. An empty shopping basket lay on its side. He picked it up and noticed a box that bore the name Timberland Hiking Boots. He tossed that in the basket.
A thick shroud of malevolence could be felt all over. Isaac felt it, and he was pretty sure that Chris and Jenny did too. This sort of false peace couldn't last forever. Any minute now, a legion of undead could break through the windows and devour them all. Don't think like that. You are responsible for these people. Your job yesterday was to protect them, and even with government collapsed, it's still your job. Don't think like that. The prize of the journey stood in front of him. Half a dozen boxes of .223, .45, 9mm, and 12 gauge stood in front of him, along with a line of firearm cleaning products. All those were coming with. Isaac noticed a line of canned food, also. He extended his arm and pushed them all into the basket. He pushed the cart over to the Automotive supply aisle, where he saw Chris lugging two jugs of gasoline. "Think this'll get us to Virginia?" "Make that four.", Isaac said blankly. Chris mumbled something and turned to Jenny, motioning for her to give him a hand.
Isaac pushed the cart over to Chris, where they placed the jugs of gas into the cart. As they walked out to the armored car, Chris noticed that the cigarette display case was still unbroken. "Hold up." Chris stepped over to the cigarette case and paused for a moment, studying all the available brands and flavors. "Aren't you gonna need a key?", Isaac asked quizzically. "Hell no." With one fluid movement, Chris placed a single bullet into a latch on the side and then kicked the door. The door fell over, and with a shit-eating grin, scooped as many cigarettes as he could into his arms and dumped them into the cart. Isaac stared at the brazen disregard for the law that the man was showing, and with a hint of sarcasm, asked "Gonna need a light with that?" Chris flashed a Zippo and pointed at the three bottles of lighter fluid in the cart.
And after twenty minutes of putting the contents of the shopping cart in the truck and refueling, the crew of survivors took to the road again.
(It would be much appreciated if you guys would start reviewing. Thanks.)
Isaac sat in the armored car, looking down at his M4. She was pretty dirty. He knew that they would have to stop eventually and get some Hobbes and some gun cleaning kits. Ah, and the truck. We're gonna need gas. And ammo, too. The only question was how the others would take the news. It was about two hours after the battle of downtown. He glanced at Brian. He was twitching periodically. The shakes. Common among black ops troopers after an op. Not like it was bad or anything, it's just that the people they were fighting weren't people, really. People don't take shotgun blast after shotgun blast and keep on coming. And like Casey said, there are probably millions upon millions in the United States alone right now. Hopefully the other nations in the world got the picture and sealed off their borders.
And what if they didn't? It'll be a slow end for mankind. Safehouses will collapse, and each day the undead will grow in number. This is all fucked up. Thank you, Cold War paranoia.
David looked over at Isaac. "Mr. President, we're runnin' low on gas. I suggest we get some, pronto. There's a Wally World down the street."
"Yeah, there are a few things we need to get." Isaac replied.
Jenny sat up suddenly, and started screaming at the top of her lungs. "NO! I'M NOT GOING OUT THERE! I WANT TO LIVE, DAMN IT!"
Chris joined the yelling match. "Bitch, we ain't gonna live if we don't get gas for this fuckin' car. And we definitely not 'gon live if we don't clean our guns."
Tears streamed down Jenny's face. "Fuck you, you fucking n-"
"QUIET!" Isaac shouted with such power that the car seemed to shake. "If there's one thing that I can't stand, it's racism. Jenny, apologize to Chris. David, stop the car. It doesn't matter if you're blue, green, yellow, or purple. If you can fight alongside with me against the creatures, then you're fine with me. You, me, and everyone else that's still alive knows that we need gas, ammo, and cleaner if we're going to stay alive. And Jenny, if you're still going to be a pessimist then you're welcome to go outside and push." Isaac smirked sarcastically at Jenny, who absentmindedly stroked her hair.
"Now, let's go shopping. Brian, you coming?"
Brian looked up. His eyes darted back and forth, and his hands shook like a leaf. "May-maybe later..." Isaac made a mental note to get Brian some cigarettes or Valium before they headed to the safehouse.
Isaac, Jenny, and Chris piled out of the armored car. Isaac sliced the pie, SWAT jargon for slowly clearing the blind spots, weapons hot, one intense degree at a time. Chris opened the door of the Wal-Mart, his Beretta at the ready. Jenny didn't really know anything about firearms, so she stuck by Chris. No better time to learn then the present. Muzak music still piped down from the speakers on the ceiling. Isaac figured that the power grid was still active in D.C. Isaac pointed to an aisle which bore the name Automotive Supplies. Chris nodded and darted down the aisle, seemingly gliding with each step. Isaac walked hesitantly to the back of the store. People think that men who work in the legislative branch are rich. Hell no. Even when he was a congressman, he shopped at Wal-Mart. Glass crunched under his Armani dress shoes. An empty shopping basket lay on its side. He picked it up and noticed a box that bore the name Timberland Hiking Boots. He tossed that in the basket.
A thick shroud of malevolence could be felt all over. Isaac felt it, and he was pretty sure that Chris and Jenny did too. This sort of false peace couldn't last forever. Any minute now, a legion of undead could break through the windows and devour them all. Don't think like that. You are responsible for these people. Your job yesterday was to protect them, and even with government collapsed, it's still your job. Don't think like that. The prize of the journey stood in front of him. Half a dozen boxes of .223, .45, 9mm, and 12 gauge stood in front of him, along with a line of firearm cleaning products. All those were coming with. Isaac noticed a line of canned food, also. He extended his arm and pushed them all into the basket. He pushed the cart over to the Automotive supply aisle, where he saw Chris lugging two jugs of gasoline. "Think this'll get us to Virginia?" "Make that four.", Isaac said blankly. Chris mumbled something and turned to Jenny, motioning for her to give him a hand.
Isaac pushed the cart over to Chris, where they placed the jugs of gas into the cart. As they walked out to the armored car, Chris noticed that the cigarette display case was still unbroken. "Hold up." Chris stepped over to the cigarette case and paused for a moment, studying all the available brands and flavors. "Aren't you gonna need a key?", Isaac asked quizzically. "Hell no." With one fluid movement, Chris placed a single bullet into a latch on the side and then kicked the door. The door fell over, and with a shit-eating grin, scooped as many cigarettes as he could into his arms and dumped them into the cart. Isaac stared at the brazen disregard for the law that the man was showing, and with a hint of sarcasm, asked "Gonna need a light with that?" Chris flashed a Zippo and pointed at the three bottles of lighter fluid in the cart.
And after twenty minutes of putting the contents of the shopping cart in the truck and refueling, the crew of survivors took to the road again.
(It would be much appreciated if you guys would start reviewing. Thanks.)