It was about afternoon, multiple people had already came into the small gated community that had been affectionately named 'Last Hearth' by it's inhabitants. People still walked the street, either talking, caring supplies, or even standing on small handmade stands that poked neatly over the top of the 12 foot tall brick wall that encircled the entire community. Not very people were seen with firearms, and the ones who did possess firearms were manning the guard posts. The faint sound of gurgling could be heard beyond the gate, signaling that a couple walkers or so had taken to clawing at the wall, attempting to get over it, but the wall proved far too high for them. Even if they could climb the wall, barbed wire layered the top of the brick wall, threatening to cut and slash anyone brave, or stupid, enough to make the climb. The gate to the community was the most enforced. Mainly covered with wooden boards across the length of it, small holes were left to allow firing ports into the street. There was also embedded metal spikes, handmade, poking out from the boards to the street, impaling any walker that might try to claw on the gate. Even now, at this early in the day, gunfire could be heard coming from the other parts of town, echoing across the town, showing that there was still those who were trying to make it outside the community walls. For now, Last Hearth would not have to worry about scavenging the town for supplies, as the gated community had already had a massive stock of supplies, not including the supplies that were brought in by other survivors, but incursions into the town would still be carried out eventually, either for looking for more survivors, or gathering up more precious materials.
Luke Mayweather stood at the gate, peaking through the firing ports of the gated community. Luke was a young man, about 17 years of age. Black long curly hair was matted to his head, signifying he had gone at least a couple of days without a good shower. Standing at the height of 5'10'', and weighing about 145lbs, Luke looked far too small for the bomber jacket he sported, along with the baggy blue jeans, black boots, and a black T shirt of some band. Hanging from Luke's side was a long sheath for what looked like a bowie knife, which hung all the way down to Luke's knee, due to it's long length. Luke had no parents to watch over him here, both of them leaving him with his aunt for a couple of weeks, and his aunt was now more than likely a walker, giving Luke the sense he'd be able to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Such as looking through the hole of the gate, despite a huge handmade sign that read 'STAY AWAY FROM GATE' hanging beside his head.
Luke Mayweather stood at the gate, peaking through the firing ports of the gated community. Luke was a young man, about 17 years of age. Black long curly hair was matted to his head, signifying he had gone at least a couple of days without a good shower. Standing at the height of 5'10'', and weighing about 145lbs, Luke looked far too small for the bomber jacket he sported, along with the baggy blue jeans, black boots, and a black T shirt of some band. Hanging from Luke's side was a long sheath for what looked like a bowie knife, which hung all the way down to Luke's knee, due to it's long length. Luke had no parents to watch over him here, both of them leaving him with his aunt for a couple of weeks, and his aunt was now more than likely a walker, giving Luke the sense he'd be able to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Such as looking through the hole of the gate, despite a huge handmade sign that read 'STAY AWAY FROM GATE' hanging beside his head.
