A large droplet of rain plopped onto Aaron's forehead, followed by many more. The backpack had shifted over and exposed his face, thus waking him up. "Son of a bitch" he said aloud. It was at that moment that he quickly covered his mouth with his hand, remembering where he was. It was still dark out and still raining. That meant that no significant amount of time had passed. What felt like a few hours of sleep, was in reality only a few minutes. The rest that Aaron had gotten at the van earlier had definitely helped him, as did his quick "power nap". Aaron slowly peaked his head out over the brush to view the cabins. The vehicles were empty. No one was in sight. He had not been awoken by gunshots or screaming, so Aaron figured they had gone in and fallen asleep.
Now Aaron did not usually resort to thievery, in fact, he was (at one time) training to be a lawman. Circumstances had changed however, and now he was forced to scavenge and rob to stay alive. Aaron did not have to look into his pack to take inventory, he was well aware of what he had and what he did not have. Food was the main supply that was running dry. Over the course of his journey through the forest, and his time in Oakville, he had depleted much of his resources. With the owners of the vehicles stowed away inside the cabins, Aaron felt that now would be the perfect time to have a look through their transport and see if they had left behind their bags.
Using the darkness and foliage as cover for his figure, and the rainfall for any noise, Aaron rose from his position on the outskirts of the grounds and made his way towards the vehicles. Every step was precise and slow. Any excess noise was avoided, for the most part. About every six steps, he would hit a small branch which would slowly crackle beneath his foot. And as the noise would sound, Aaron would stop and raise his rifle; just waiting. As he approached, Aaron brought the stock of his rifle to his shoulder. The barrel would be the first to appear out of the treeline, followed by the dark figure wielding it. He was in a crouch, but still agile. Once he was clear of the treeline completely, Aaron moved faster. There were less branches and other rubble on the ground to make noise.
With the glove still shielding his hand, Aaron slowly reached towards the handle of the truck. It was unlocked. Making sure to pull slowly, Aaron opened the door and crept into the cabin of the truck. There were some belongings in the truck still. Aaron would take about a minute to search each of them, and then take what he needed. The problem was, he did not know how much time he had. Aaron experienced a lapse in judgement as he extended his body across the driver's seat and over to the passengers. He felt his footing on the edge of the truck slip and shot his arm out to grab something. The only thing to prop himself up against was the steering wheel, more specifically, the horn. A chill shot down Aaron's spine as he heard the horn. In an instant, he was out of the truck (leaving the door open). The treeline was not close enough to get to. Surely the owner would see him before he was out of sight. The only other option was to hide behind the truck and pray that no one searched too hard. Mud kicked up as he made his way around the front of the truck.
The truck was angled so that one side faced the cabins and the other side faced the distant treeline. Aaron gripped his weapon and peered over the hood of the truck. Seconds felt like minutes. A sweat had broken out on his forehead. He could hear sounds, he knew someone was going to come out. Aaron's rifle was loaded and ready for action, but it's purpose was not slaying the living. But he knew that the situation could be life or death, and he hoped he would have it in him to make the right decision. Another error in Aaron's judgement, one that he was not aware of, was his position. His body may have been hidden by the truck, but the moon was behind him. If any moonlight breached the storm clouds, or an unfortunate flash of lightning was to break the darkness, Aaron would be surely spotted. A keen eye and a flashlight would also spot him without too much trouble.
Now Aaron did not usually resort to thievery, in fact, he was (at one time) training to be a lawman. Circumstances had changed however, and now he was forced to scavenge and rob to stay alive. Aaron did not have to look into his pack to take inventory, he was well aware of what he had and what he did not have. Food was the main supply that was running dry. Over the course of his journey through the forest, and his time in Oakville, he had depleted much of his resources. With the owners of the vehicles stowed away inside the cabins, Aaron felt that now would be the perfect time to have a look through their transport and see if they had left behind their bags.
Using the darkness and foliage as cover for his figure, and the rainfall for any noise, Aaron rose from his position on the outskirts of the grounds and made his way towards the vehicles. Every step was precise and slow. Any excess noise was avoided, for the most part. About every six steps, he would hit a small branch which would slowly crackle beneath his foot. And as the noise would sound, Aaron would stop and raise his rifle; just waiting. As he approached, Aaron brought the stock of his rifle to his shoulder. The barrel would be the first to appear out of the treeline, followed by the dark figure wielding it. He was in a crouch, but still agile. Once he was clear of the treeline completely, Aaron moved faster. There were less branches and other rubble on the ground to make noise.
With the glove still shielding his hand, Aaron slowly reached towards the handle of the truck. It was unlocked. Making sure to pull slowly, Aaron opened the door and crept into the cabin of the truck. There were some belongings in the truck still. Aaron would take about a minute to search each of them, and then take what he needed. The problem was, he did not know how much time he had. Aaron experienced a lapse in judgement as he extended his body across the driver's seat and over to the passengers. He felt his footing on the edge of the truck slip and shot his arm out to grab something. The only thing to prop himself up against was the steering wheel, more specifically, the horn. A chill shot down Aaron's spine as he heard the horn. In an instant, he was out of the truck (leaving the door open). The treeline was not close enough to get to. Surely the owner would see him before he was out of sight. The only other option was to hide behind the truck and pray that no one searched too hard. Mud kicked up as he made his way around the front of the truck.
The truck was angled so that one side faced the cabins and the other side faced the distant treeline. Aaron gripped his weapon and peered over the hood of the truck. Seconds felt like minutes. A sweat had broken out on his forehead. He could hear sounds, he knew someone was going to come out. Aaron's rifle was loaded and ready for action, but it's purpose was not slaying the living. But he knew that the situation could be life or death, and he hoped he would have it in him to make the right decision. Another error in Aaron's judgement, one that he was not aware of, was his position. His body may have been hidden by the truck, but the moon was behind him. If any moonlight breached the storm clouds, or an unfortunate flash of lightning was to break the darkness, Aaron would be surely spotted. A keen eye and a flashlight would also spot him without too much trouble.