[center][b]16 June 2017
11:37am[/b][/center]

Leon lay in bed, wide awake. He'd been awake for around two hours, pondering on how he was going to make it through the coming days. His supplies were running low, and he was severely rationing himself. The rats that had managed to get in the night before and gnaw their way through his food and drink didn't help. Leon spent the next of that night hunting them down with his axe. He went to bed at about 3:00am, with the axe propped up against the bedside table next to the bed. It gave Leon a sense of security, knowing he could spring to his feet at any moment and end up fighting for his life against the things that had the only intention of eating him.

He sighed, swung his legs across, planted them firmly on the floor and pushed himself up. Leon picked up the fire axe and held it close as he stepped out into the hallway. He knew he was alone, but that didn't stop him making sure every room was clear before he relaxed. He'd taken shelter in a long abandoned home, that showed it. The nature outside was beginning to show signs of retaking it, and dust collected in every corner and crevice. The windows were hastily boarded up, thanks to the previous owner. As he inched his way down the stairs, the makeshift barricade he'd constructed by the front door seemed unmoved. It consisted of a sofa, a table, and a couple of drawers.

After making sure there was nothing lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce, Leon settled down in the living room, by his bag. He rummaged through it and grabbed a tin of beans and a spoon. That is what he'd been reduced to. Eating a tin of cold beans while squatting in a home that he'd only taken shelter in to avoid a large group of the infected. The light trickled in through the cracks in the boards, slightly illuminating the room. Leon wolfed down the rest of the beans and then tossed the tin in the corner, where a small hill of old tins was beginning to form. Leon grimaced as he looked at it, but stood up anyway and headed into the hall.

Leon stopped as soon as he got in. He heard a squeaking sound. The rats. Leon readied his axe and began searching the ground floor. He wasn't letting them eat through his supplies again. He stepped over to the cupboard and held his breath. Leon yanked it open. The rats came pouring out. That amount caught him by surprise, and knocked him back. Leon elbowed the mirror behind him, and the shards came crashing down upon his back. He was extremely fortunate not to be cut too badly. That was the last thing he needed after the gash in his leg from when he first escaped the rampaging undead.

The next thought on his mind was the sound. That was bound to draw at least a couple of them. And once they see one or two trying to get into a place, the others all get into the same mindset and do everything within their power to break into the same place. Leon decided it was time to move, and jogged into the living room to gather his supplies. He didn't even know if the undead were going to break in, he was just taking precautions. Leon zipped up the bag and made for the back door. But once he arrived, he forgot he'd barricaded that too. He was being chased when he first set up shop in the house, so he wasn't taking any chances.

Only, that barricade could turn out to be the end of him. The infected were now trying to get in through the front door and windows Leon could hear the boards cracking and the door about to cave in. He was busy trying to tear the back door's defences down so he could escape, but whenever he pulled one thing out, something else seemed to take it's place. He cast a glance back over his shoulder, and saw arms poking through the windows. The moans and groans were getting louder. It was like they knew they were about to get in and have their first meal of the day. Leon kept checking while he was trying to get through.

[i]Persistent fuckers[/i], he thought.

Leon eventually began trying to break through using the axe, and finally did it. The last of the barricade fell away, and Leon kicked down the door. Just as he did so, the overwhelming weight of the combined infected broke in, and they came tearing through the house. Leon sprinted down the garden and out the gate. He didn't know where to go. He had no car, little food and no way of getting help. Leon didn't even know where he was. Once he'd left the city, he just headed straight for the countryside to avoid masses of the infected that gathered in the cities. Leon decided to head down the main road.

He just kept walking after that. Homeless. No shelter. He had no idea on what to do or where to go. He had a pretty good set up, but now the only thing that separated him from the infected was the fact he was still alive. Leon kept checking over his shoulder and every turn. He was paranoid after that close encounter. The adrenaline was flowing through him. He was on edge, and was willing to decapitate anything that came near him, friend or foe. Leon thought he was drifting into insanity, but hoped he could hide it from anybody he came across, if he didn't have a full mental breakdown first.