Snippet #1006818

Joey kept low to the ground, his legs bent heavily as his booted feet plodded against the ground ever so lightly. His hazel eyes scanned the horizon for movement, easily picking it out. The dead still walked, as he peaked around the corner of the ruins of a building; a hotel, what he thought, but he digressed, no time to try and guess the building. He focused on the shambling corpses simply wandering around, searching for signs of life. Undead pieces of shit. He would count them in his head, taking into concideration for that every one he shot down, they'd be another six to take it's place.

He took in his suroundings again, as he slowly crept forward, dropping to his belly as he crawled towards a car on it's side. He pushed himself off the ground, and peeked around the vehicle. Closer to the undead, he recounted them. Sure enough there were more. He kept his breathing through his nose, and his stance low. He knew that stealth wasn't his strong point, but these things couldn't figure out if a wall was in their way unless they hit it. He shook his head, the boonie hat upon it keeping his hair from shaking. There was nothing here, other than shamblers. He moved into a higher crouch, and began to move back to his little holdout.

He backtracked his steps, keeping low and quiet as he crossed street after street, untill he saw his little marker- a school building. He knew he was right on track. He looked to the left and his right: On the Left was just an empty street, one that bore the school, the right a convenience store. However, there were very few zombies on the open street. He checked his corners again, and kept low and his knees bent as he roadie ran across the street. The sun beat down on him as he used his energy, but the boonie hat and the ventilated jacket kept him remotely cool as he could be wearing the gear he was. His eyes continued to sweep the road, untill he hit the other side. He jumped up onto the sidewalk, before walking down it. He was almost there, not aware if anyone might've seen or followed him.

He continued down the street and turned the corner slowly, with his hand on his waist, where his revolver resode. Once he was sure he could make it, he stood straight up, and jogged to the building across from his current sidewalk- A library. He would jog to the door, and take a deep breath, and a very small break from his jog, before he reached to his side, and dug out his revolver. The nickle-plated weapon shimmered as he tugged it from his waistband. He then reached behind him, and slowly, as not to make the sound of it scratching from it's sheath, pulled his M1 Bayonet from it's sheath. He held it with one hand, and then pulled the hammer of his handgun back with another. Using his knuckle, he slowly pushed the door of the house of literature open, and stuck his revolver in, clearing the doorway with caution as he stepped inside. The heavy steel door clattered shut after it closed, and Joey looked around, keeping his revolver at the ready, and his bayonet tight in his hand. He slowly walked into the library, and looked around. He saw no putrid faces nor movement. He began walking normally, no longer making his footsteps slow. He had cleared this place out this morning, and it seemed it had no new invaders. He counted his blessings, as he resheathed the bayonet, and released the hammer of the revolver, before tucking it back into his pants.

Joey calmly walked to the front desk, and reached behind it, grabbing his backpack of supplies. He would've packed more, but he had to leave that store THEN if he wanted to get out alive. He didn't have the manpower or the weaponry to hold out in store like that for long. Luckly, the libraries of today were like the schools- built more like detainment centers rather than actual places of learning- heavy doors, reinforced windows, at least three emergency exits, and a way to get to the roof. This library in particular had three stories, but he hadn't bothered with the third. He'd chosen this place as his temporary fort. He dug out a pack of ramen noodles, and placed it on the counter. After that, he took out one of his two liter bottles that he had filled with water. The plumbing in the place was out, and so was the electricity. But it was about mid-day, and he honestly didn't need much lightly. Joey looked around for a minute, leaving his to-be meal sitting on the front desk, as he looked around the library, searching for something usable....

Finally he found what he needed. The library was a semi-nice one, and kept decorations around to spruce the place up, and on the floor was a bowl of fake fruit - what every establishment needs. He would take the rather large bowl, and run his hand through the dampen, clearning the dust from the wood. He smirked, and began to carry it back to the front desk. Once there, he would sit down in a swiveling chair, and pour some of his water into the bowl, not even filling haflway. He would open the pack of ramen noodles, and break the block in half, (since there were two servings per block) and dropped the other half in the bowl of water. He would fold the rest of the noodle block back up in it's wrapping, and stuff it back in his backpack. He would let the block sit for a minute, before flipping it over, making sure both sides were getting enough water to soften the noodles.

Finally, after about five minutes on each side, Joey was satisfied with the consistancy of his meal. He smirked, and dunked his fingers into his bowl, and shrugged. He would roll up his sleeve slightly, not wanting to get it messy, and took off his hat, resting it on the desk. He grimaced as he pulled out two fingerfuls of ramen, shoveling it into his mouth. Cold, flavorless ramen wasn't his meal of choice, but it kept him from starving. He continued to do so, untill most of his meal was finished. He sighed as he pushed the bowl away from him, but kept the remaining water in it - he'd use it for tonight's dinner too.

"Now!" He said to himself. "To burn some time." He would reach down behind his backpack, and pull out a book: "The Complete Encyclopedia of Firearms from Around the World". He cracked it open, to where he had the page dog-eared, and resumed his reading, his ears still perked for sound, only reading lightly.