It was a typical Florida day. Hot, humid and devoid of life.
The latter was the new typical. There were "people" wandering about here and there, but they were not what was considered alive anymore.
It had been nearly a year since the dead had started attacking. Anyone who died, for any reason, came back as a monster who had only the most basic instinct : the need to feed. Their danger came from their tendency to attack in large numbers, overwhelming their victims. They weren't smart and couldn't communicate, but they had excellent senses of hearing and smell and were not easily deterred from the chase.
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Jessalyn - clothing store - alone
The world sucked, but she had it better than others. Jessalyn knew that. She at least had a roof over her head, in the form of a wrecked school bus have buried in a crumbling building. She had food, in the form of the cans with missing labels she found here and there. It was a surprise every meal. Would it be peaches? Would it be spagettios? Would it be expired? You never knew.
She had some security, with her knife and gun. Of course the knife was getting dull and the gun was out of bullets but it was something.
And she was squatting in a ruined shopping district that had plenty of places to scavenge. Even with the panicked mass buying people had done and the mass looting afterwards things had gone to hell too fast for everything to be taken. And drifters only took what they could carry easily.
The seats from the bus had been taken out and propped up in various places fanning out from the entrance of the bus, to make it harder to reach quickly. The inside had a sleeping bag on the floor, various boxes of supplies. You never knew what you could use. Such as the hose she had taped to an empty soda bottle that ran up to a tarp on the roof of the bus that collected rain water. She had mastered the 30 sec shower.
Jessalyn was currently looking through a clothing store a few blocks from her shelter. She picked through the clothing meticulously, trying to find things that would even semi fit her. She currently had no way to really wash clothes well so she frequently had to scavenge.
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Katie - railroad tracks - running
The little body wove in and out of the various abandoned rail cars. A man was chasing her, his swears getting nastier.
"Little bitch! I'll cut your fingers off for stealing from me!"
Katie slid under a car and out the other side, sliding down a hill and into a drainage pipe before the man got close. Her pursuer tried to follow but gave up quickly since he was so big he would have to crawl an inch at a time, plus he would have to leave his gun behind. Instead he went back up the hill and over to the other side, intending to wait for her to appear at other end of the pipe.
It took him nearly five minutes to realize she had doubled back and had climbed back out the way she entered and was long gone.
Katie ran in the brush alongside the tracks, holding to her chest what all the fuss had been about : a bag containing two cans of corn and a box of bandaids. She had used the crying ruse to get the man to stop and try to help her. Once she was at his camp she helped herself to the cans while he had gotten bandaids for her skinned knees. She had snagged the box before she took off running.
Crying always worked. Adults always thought she needed rescuing. They never even considered that she was playing them like a flute. They also thought she was helpless. At least the man who had tried to hurt her had thought that. She had led him right into a walker herd and she wasn't sorry.
She finally stopped once she felt she was far enough away. Thankfully the cans had pull tops on them. She ate the corn greedily with her hands, even drinking the juice from it. She remembered hearing her mom talk about nutrition and how things like bread and corn turned into sugar in your body and it wasn't healthy to eat too much. But she was sure her mom wouldn't mind her eating a whole can of corn now.
The other can she was saving for later. It was in her school bag along with the box of bandaids, a cracked coffee cup, a nearly empty box of animal crackers, her pencil box that had a ruler and a few pencils and pens that were out of ink, a box of matches, a compact mirror and a comb with the handle broken off.
Most of the things she had she had stolen from people. Her parents and teachers had always taught her that stealing was bad and the police would take her away if she stole. But she hadn't seen any police in a long time. There were a few times when she wished the police had come to get her when she stole. Even if they put her in jail, at least it was somewhere safe. And policemen always had guns.
The latter was the new typical. There were "people" wandering about here and there, but they were not what was considered alive anymore.
It had been nearly a year since the dead had started attacking. Anyone who died, for any reason, came back as a monster who had only the most basic instinct : the need to feed. Their danger came from their tendency to attack in large numbers, overwhelming their victims. They weren't smart and couldn't communicate, but they had excellent senses of hearing and smell and were not easily deterred from the chase.
----------------------
Jessalyn - clothing store - alone
The world sucked, but she had it better than others. Jessalyn knew that. She at least had a roof over her head, in the form of a wrecked school bus have buried in a crumbling building. She had food, in the form of the cans with missing labels she found here and there. It was a surprise every meal. Would it be peaches? Would it be spagettios? Would it be expired? You never knew.
She had some security, with her knife and gun. Of course the knife was getting dull and the gun was out of bullets but it was something.
And she was squatting in a ruined shopping district that had plenty of places to scavenge. Even with the panicked mass buying people had done and the mass looting afterwards things had gone to hell too fast for everything to be taken. And drifters only took what they could carry easily.
The seats from the bus had been taken out and propped up in various places fanning out from the entrance of the bus, to make it harder to reach quickly. The inside had a sleeping bag on the floor, various boxes of supplies. You never knew what you could use. Such as the hose she had taped to an empty soda bottle that ran up to a tarp on the roof of the bus that collected rain water. She had mastered the 30 sec shower.
Jessalyn was currently looking through a clothing store a few blocks from her shelter. She picked through the clothing meticulously, trying to find things that would even semi fit her. She currently had no way to really wash clothes well so she frequently had to scavenge.
-------------------------------
Katie - railroad tracks - running
The little body wove in and out of the various abandoned rail cars. A man was chasing her, his swears getting nastier.
"Little bitch! I'll cut your fingers off for stealing from me!"
Katie slid under a car and out the other side, sliding down a hill and into a drainage pipe before the man got close. Her pursuer tried to follow but gave up quickly since he was so big he would have to crawl an inch at a time, plus he would have to leave his gun behind. Instead he went back up the hill and over to the other side, intending to wait for her to appear at other end of the pipe.
It took him nearly five minutes to realize she had doubled back and had climbed back out the way she entered and was long gone.
Katie ran in the brush alongside the tracks, holding to her chest what all the fuss had been about : a bag containing two cans of corn and a box of bandaids. She had used the crying ruse to get the man to stop and try to help her. Once she was at his camp she helped herself to the cans while he had gotten bandaids for her skinned knees. She had snagged the box before she took off running.
Crying always worked. Adults always thought she needed rescuing. They never even considered that she was playing them like a flute. They also thought she was helpless. At least the man who had tried to hurt her had thought that. She had led him right into a walker herd and she wasn't sorry.
She finally stopped once she felt she was far enough away. Thankfully the cans had pull tops on them. She ate the corn greedily with her hands, even drinking the juice from it. She remembered hearing her mom talk about nutrition and how things like bread and corn turned into sugar in your body and it wasn't healthy to eat too much. But she was sure her mom wouldn't mind her eating a whole can of corn now.
The other can she was saving for later. It was in her school bag along with the box of bandaids, a cracked coffee cup, a nearly empty box of animal crackers, her pencil box that had a ruler and a few pencils and pens that were out of ink, a box of matches, a compact mirror and a comb with the handle broken off.
Most of the things she had she had stolen from people. Her parents and teachers had always taught her that stealing was bad and the police would take her away if she stole. But she hadn't seen any police in a long time. There were a few times when she wished the police had come to get her when she stole. Even if they put her in jail, at least it was somewhere safe. And policemen always had guns.
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