Jason Ripley
A man from out of town enters the colorful restraunt, hoping to get a quick bite. No one is sitting at the tables, no employees stand behind the counter of the nearly quiet country music.
"Hello?" he calls for no response.
He looks out the window, two cars sit in the parking lot. He waits thinking the employees are on a smoke break. A few minutes pass as he waits for an employee .
"Anybody working in this town?!" he angrily calls out
Shuffling and footfalls sound out from the kitchen. He feels relief as he hears the steps come closer that he can get his order taken and a cold drink.
Misery Desuita
The day was perfect, unlike any other. The skies gloomy with peeks of the sun's beams powering through the grey rifts of clouds, highways remained light of traffic to ease the route of travel of all those eager of an escape.
Matte black Dodge Charger with protruding grill plastered to the car's header panel roared onward as a young woman parked behind its wheel. Riding within its steel formation her long white curls spilling from its opened windows now swaying in the rushing breeze. The woman's skin was a honey hue while her eyes a glistening soul blue hiding behind sunglasses that sat upon her nose's bridge she then tuned the radio of which had become static from the last county she left. After miles of terrain the roadways slowly shifted in varying forms of ruggedness when passing a sign reading 'Welcome To Clarey'. Revving her engine she flew by the trees that hovered the road blocking more of the already diminished sun. In the distance she noted silhouettes of the town slowing the Charger's pace as the buildings became more apparent. Pulling up to a parking that hugged the curb entry of a quaint little restaurant she exited her vehicle her shades pulled up on her hairline as she made way to enter in search of a bite to eat.
Once inside she scanned the vacinity in wonder as to why the place appeared deserted. Across the way a single man was spotted where she assumed was ment to be the bar. Making way her curvaceous figure glided over with each step nothing but the sound of shallow music and the clomp of her heeled combat boots filled the establishment. Reaching the man's position she claimed seat one over providing enough space for either a conversation to comence or to allow one another to remain to their own. Seated the woman knocked the bartop to catch attention of whom ever else may be lingering in hopes that a staff may wander in sight to take her order.
DM POST
If the angry and frustrated calls of the male hadn't lured him out then the knocking on the bartop to get his attention surely had. From the sounds of it, whoever was out there and trying to get his attention was very much alive but now that the knocking had ensued, maybe they too had been taken after all. The texmex had been relatively calm and quiet ever since the soldiers had first came to town. He'd been asked to close up the restaurant by them and he had listened like the good man he was, only to open it back up behind their backs once he'd been sure they'd left of course!
The man, who seemed to be ripe for a retirement home as he was in his 80's, walked through the door from the kitchen and appeared behind the counter with a wide but not so bright smile. The brightness of his teeth had been tainted by the yellow of years of smoking and he looked a tad bewildered, his hair a pure grey while his eyes had remained a lively brown and stood in sharp contrast with them. He was wearing a spotless apron over his usual uniform and a cap to keep his hair from falling into any of the food, while his hands and nails looked as clean as those of someone that'd spent all day washing them.
A towel seemed loosely hung over his shoulders and with his rolled up, white sleeves he looked like he'd been doing dishes and cooking all day long. In truth, he'd just spent most of the day cleaning the leftovers of people's panic days before and spent his remaining time sitting on a chair in his kitchen to contemplate what life had brought them.
"Welcome, welcome. Table for two?" He said and he chuckled full heartedly, as if he'd just made the best joke of the year. He then shuffled a bit closer and leaned on the bartop, as if he was about to share a secret with them.
"You two aren't looking worried at all. Why's that? And while you tell me why you're not, what about a drink?" He asked, throwing them a wink before turning to his liquor stash behind the bar.
Jason Ripley
"What do you mean 'Not looking worried?" he says looking the old man up and down as if he were some senile stranger lost from the old folks home.
"After all, I've hunted bears and all sorts of man eaters." He looks to the woman and gives her a wink and quick look over.
He leans on the bar with an elbow resting on it. His free hand rests by his side.
"Speaking of worry, where is everyone?" He asks before he hears the humming and revving of a truck from outside. The only other sound he's heard since arriving in town.
"Street race?" He asks leaving the bar and old man with the woman to check out the noise.
Misery Desuita
Watching the interactions between both men she rolled her eyes the one whome winked her way as a slight blush crossed her cheeks. In that moment the woman heard from behind the closed doors the roaring of an engine of which was noted not to be her own. Quickly following lead the woman slapped a bill on the countertop running out towards the sound whilst leaving shouting to the old man.
"Thanks old man keep the change!"
Now breaching the door to the outside. Once outside she took sight of a truck large in size still in wonder of what the commotion was. Mîsery stood now leaning forward against the top of her own Armoured vehicle.
DM POST
He couldn't believe his ears! These two weren't worried because they didn't know? Oh dear that was dangerous, that was very dangerous and the old man clutched his chest to hold onto his heart while he looked up at the ceiling, as if looking at god directly.
He then looked back at the two that sat in front of him, head going back and forth as they spoke and blinked in surprise. Bears? Man eaters? Was he flirting with the pretty lady that sat beside him? Was now any time to flirt? His worry grew and he reached out for them to answer the question of where everyone was just as the lad grew distracted at the sound of an engine.
"No! No! Please don't go out there. Stay here, it's safe here!" He urged, hoping that they would stop and listen but quickly getting tears in his eyes as he noticed how the youths intended to rush out, thinking it was an amusing street race that awaited them rather than any form of possible demise.
"Zombies, there's zombies!" He cried out as they left his establishment, and he turned on his heel to go to his kitchen and search his bags. Retrieving them, he then made his way out of the establishment too, trying to catch up to the two youths as they ran into the street and towards the sounds before he finally saw Misery, who was leaning against her own truck.
"Lady, listen to me. It's not safe. This is all I have, please take it. It's of no use to me. I refuse to abandon my restaurent. Take it, take it!" He urged her as he spotted the first zombies on the horizon, who seemed to have spotted some treats on the streets.
"You have to run, run do you hear me?" He asked, sounding almost manic before he disposed of the bags by placing them onto her car and hurried back inside, locking the door of the restaurant behind him the second he got in.
If she were to check the bag, she'd find 3 colts 44's with two boxes of ammo, his butcher knives and some food for the road.
A man from out of town enters the colorful restraunt, hoping to get a quick bite. No one is sitting at the tables, no employees stand behind the counter of the nearly quiet country music.
"Hello?" he calls for no response.
He looks out the window, two cars sit in the parking lot. He waits thinking the employees are on a smoke break. A few minutes pass as he waits for an employee .
"Anybody working in this town?!" he angrily calls out
Shuffling and footfalls sound out from the kitchen. He feels relief as he hears the steps come closer that he can get his order taken and a cold drink.
Misery Desuita
The day was perfect, unlike any other. The skies gloomy with peeks of the sun's beams powering through the grey rifts of clouds, highways remained light of traffic to ease the route of travel of all those eager of an escape.
Matte black Dodge Charger with protruding grill plastered to the car's header panel roared onward as a young woman parked behind its wheel. Riding within its steel formation her long white curls spilling from its opened windows now swaying in the rushing breeze. The woman's skin was a honey hue while her eyes a glistening soul blue hiding behind sunglasses that sat upon her nose's bridge she then tuned the radio of which had become static from the last county she left. After miles of terrain the roadways slowly shifted in varying forms of ruggedness when passing a sign reading 'Welcome To Clarey'. Revving her engine she flew by the trees that hovered the road blocking more of the already diminished sun. In the distance she noted silhouettes of the town slowing the Charger's pace as the buildings became more apparent. Pulling up to a parking that hugged the curb entry of a quaint little restaurant she exited her vehicle her shades pulled up on her hairline as she made way to enter in search of a bite to eat.
Once inside she scanned the vacinity in wonder as to why the place appeared deserted. Across the way a single man was spotted where she assumed was ment to be the bar. Making way her curvaceous figure glided over with each step nothing but the sound of shallow music and the clomp of her heeled combat boots filled the establishment. Reaching the man's position she claimed seat one over providing enough space for either a conversation to comence or to allow one another to remain to their own. Seated the woman knocked the bartop to catch attention of whom ever else may be lingering in hopes that a staff may wander in sight to take her order.
DM POST
If the angry and frustrated calls of the male hadn't lured him out then the knocking on the bartop to get his attention surely had. From the sounds of it, whoever was out there and trying to get his attention was very much alive but now that the knocking had ensued, maybe they too had been taken after all. The texmex had been relatively calm and quiet ever since the soldiers had first came to town. He'd been asked to close up the restaurant by them and he had listened like the good man he was, only to open it back up behind their backs once he'd been sure they'd left of course!
The man, who seemed to be ripe for a retirement home as he was in his 80's, walked through the door from the kitchen and appeared behind the counter with a wide but not so bright smile. The brightness of his teeth had been tainted by the yellow of years of smoking and he looked a tad bewildered, his hair a pure grey while his eyes had remained a lively brown and stood in sharp contrast with them. He was wearing a spotless apron over his usual uniform and a cap to keep his hair from falling into any of the food, while his hands and nails looked as clean as those of someone that'd spent all day washing them.
A towel seemed loosely hung over his shoulders and with his rolled up, white sleeves he looked like he'd been doing dishes and cooking all day long. In truth, he'd just spent most of the day cleaning the leftovers of people's panic days before and spent his remaining time sitting on a chair in his kitchen to contemplate what life had brought them.
"Welcome, welcome. Table for two?" He said and he chuckled full heartedly, as if he'd just made the best joke of the year. He then shuffled a bit closer and leaned on the bartop, as if he was about to share a secret with them.
"You two aren't looking worried at all. Why's that? And while you tell me why you're not, what about a drink?" He asked, throwing them a wink before turning to his liquor stash behind the bar.
Jason Ripley
"What do you mean 'Not looking worried?" he says looking the old man up and down as if he were some senile stranger lost from the old folks home.
"After all, I've hunted bears and all sorts of man eaters." He looks to the woman and gives her a wink and quick look over.
He leans on the bar with an elbow resting on it. His free hand rests by his side.
"Speaking of worry, where is everyone?" He asks before he hears the humming and revving of a truck from outside. The only other sound he's heard since arriving in town.
"Street race?" He asks leaving the bar and old man with the woman to check out the noise.
Misery Desuita
Watching the interactions between both men she rolled her eyes the one whome winked her way as a slight blush crossed her cheeks. In that moment the woman heard from behind the closed doors the roaring of an engine of which was noted not to be her own. Quickly following lead the woman slapped a bill on the countertop running out towards the sound whilst leaving shouting to the old man.
"Thanks old man keep the change!"
Now breaching the door to the outside. Once outside she took sight of a truck large in size still in wonder of what the commotion was. Mîsery stood now leaning forward against the top of her own Armoured vehicle.
DM POST
He couldn't believe his ears! These two weren't worried because they didn't know? Oh dear that was dangerous, that was very dangerous and the old man clutched his chest to hold onto his heart while he looked up at the ceiling, as if looking at god directly.
He then looked back at the two that sat in front of him, head going back and forth as they spoke and blinked in surprise. Bears? Man eaters? Was he flirting with the pretty lady that sat beside him? Was now any time to flirt? His worry grew and he reached out for them to answer the question of where everyone was just as the lad grew distracted at the sound of an engine.
"No! No! Please don't go out there. Stay here, it's safe here!" He urged, hoping that they would stop and listen but quickly getting tears in his eyes as he noticed how the youths intended to rush out, thinking it was an amusing street race that awaited them rather than any form of possible demise.
"Zombies, there's zombies!" He cried out as they left his establishment, and he turned on his heel to go to his kitchen and search his bags. Retrieving them, he then made his way out of the establishment too, trying to catch up to the two youths as they ran into the street and towards the sounds before he finally saw Misery, who was leaning against her own truck.
"Lady, listen to me. It's not safe. This is all I have, please take it. It's of no use to me. I refuse to abandon my restaurent. Take it, take it!" He urged her as he spotted the first zombies on the horizon, who seemed to have spotted some treats on the streets.
"You have to run, run do you hear me?" He asked, sounding almost manic before he disposed of the bags by placing them onto her car and hurried back inside, locking the door of the restaurant behind him the second he got in.
If she were to check the bag, she'd find 3 colts 44's with two boxes of ammo, his butcher knives and some food for the road.
Jason Ripley
He barely heard the old man warn the woman.
"Bees?" he thought aloud looking down the street for a race.
A blue truck sits alone in the street. He can't see an owner on the street or in the window. The engine was left running.
*Turning to head back into the restaurant, he hears a groan from beside the building. Someone could be hurt. He quickly walks to the person, and kneels beside a man."
"You okay?" he asks reaching into his pocket for his phone for its soft light to check the man over.
Before he can reach his pocket the man groans and lunges at him. Jason lies on ground, holding the man away by the throat while he tries to claw at him. Jason kicks between the man's legs, but the man does not react.
"Get the fuck off me!" He yells out as more gasping and groaning sounds as if it's getting closer
--
Panting, as the man's... no, creature's head explodes, Jason crawls backwards, and bumps into a duffel bag thrown in his direction.
"What was that?!" Jason hysterically says to himself a bit louder than he should've.
Unzipping the bag, he finds revolvers and knives, and a bit of canned food.
More groaning comes from down the street. Takibg the duffel bag with him, he sprints off to the truck he spotted moments earlier. He stops by his empty fueled jeep and grabs his rifle from the gun rack as well as his 20 bullets.
He barely heard the old man warn the woman.
"Bees?" he thought aloud looking down the street for a race.
A blue truck sits alone in the street. He can't see an owner on the street or in the window. The engine was left running.
*Turning to head back into the restaurant, he hears a groan from beside the building. Someone could be hurt. He quickly walks to the person, and kneels beside a man."
"You okay?" he asks reaching into his pocket for his phone for its soft light to check the man over.
Before he can reach his pocket the man groans and lunges at him. Jason lies on ground, holding the man away by the throat while he tries to claw at him. Jason kicks between the man's legs, but the man does not react.
"Get the fuck off me!" He yells out as more gasping and groaning sounds as if it's getting closer
--
Panting, as the man's... no, creature's head explodes, Jason crawls backwards, and bumps into a duffel bag thrown in his direction.
"What was that?!" Jason hysterically says to himself a bit louder than he should've.
Unzipping the bag, he finds revolvers and knives, and a bit of canned food.
More groaning comes from down the street. Takibg the duffel bag with him, he sprints off to the truck he spotted moments earlier. He stops by his empty fueled jeep and grabs his rifle from the gun rack as well as his 20 bullets.
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