Snippet #1408649

Despite Ira's thoughts of escape, his physical body couldn't move, it didn't want to anymore. For Ira just layed on the roof in the shade of the billboard listening to the gunfire and explosions that rang out clear across London. No God would allow a civilization to plummet down into hell like this, but God did the same to the world in the Apocolypse, (Revalations) to cleanse all that is evil. This was just another cleansing of evil, yet deep inside Ira doubt had formulated about what God's intentions truly was for a situation such as this. Maybe I shall speak to him myself. Face-to-face.

Ira slowly picked himself up from the roof talking careful steps to look down below. The streets were infected and ridden with innocents, men, women and children. The smell of smoke and ash become the air of this new age. Ira took in the sight of London wondering why God bothered to save him from the infected, why he should even stay alive if he were to live in a world such as this, and die in it. Would God send him to hell for suicide? Only he and everyone else can understand the magnitude of dread that had swept the city. Perhaps I should talk to him myself... He reached into his chest pocket pulling out the black snub nose revolver.

He looked at the gun as it lay on his hand, running the fingers from the other hand through it's cold steel skin. It felt heavy as it weighed and the grip was slightly worn out. He wrapped all his index fingers around it, all but the index which was on the trigger and raised the revolver into his mouth. His hands were shaky and uncertain as his head was in cold heat covered by his sweat. He closed his eyes deciding to leave London, forever, pulling the trigger and braced himself for his brains to be blown. But no, the .357 ammunition didn't go through his brain, didn't penetrate his skull, didn't fly through his mouth, it didn't even leave the barrel. As rare as the chances of a snub nose misfiring, it did and as it did Ira pulled the gun out of his mouth gasping for air, cursing God under his breath why he bothered to keep him alive, why he didn't do the same for Lara.

Ira looked to the left side towards the locked door leading down the building and tried to remember why the squad never came up the roof to finish him, even though he already knew the answer to that question. He walked over to his right side where a ladder hanged down into the apartments fire escape and he slowly climbed down, talking to himself from the eight stories down. "...Let the lord be my shepard, without failure, and with love, let him be my shepard, for I am a sheep just with one purpose but the lord treat me like the rest, free to my own will, for I shall be guided by Our Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. These steps however are still mine." Ira dropped down onto the alleyway from the ladder elevated a couple of metres off the floor, his knees absorbing the impact quite well, while his hands were covered in little bits of rust from the ladders.

"For it was He that gave me gun with no bullets, for He as well give me life with no air." Ira said to himself once more, grabbing the gun he put back in his chest pocket, and reached next to it to grab the bible, placing it just by his side. He creeped along the shadows, till he reached the streets watching as armoured soldiers gun down, unarmed civilians running away.
Blood. The streets were covered with it.
For Ira this world was already gone, there was no hope for salvation, but for Ira God had to be keeping him alive for a reason. He just had to?

Quick steps, running, no sprinting. Lots of sprinting, multitudes of feet and persons coming. Ira looked behind him at the alley watching the three infected sprint, watching their thrust of speed, and animal instinct. It was almost mesmerizing to watch, until the thought that they came for him, for he sprinted onto the street as the infected brought chase. Ira sprinted for the service entrance into the tram tunnels, where the crowd of innocents ran to as well and joined them. The infected chasing Ira broke up as he ran into the crowd of screaming people's switching to easier prey as they were jumped on. The bullets still flew past the crowd easily mowing down 3/4 of the of the crowd, and was abrubtly stopped. Ira turned his head back for a quick glance watching the infected clash with the armoured soldiers. Ira turned his head back in front of him and entered the darkness along with the 7 people from the crowd and abruptly stopped in place hands over his knees, back hunched, gasping for air.

There was fork in the dark tunnels where it's only illumination was the red flashing lights, a choice between left and right. The crowd as panicked as it was ran left, where their were already survivors escaping from that direction to come to this fork. Ira didn't go anywhere, instead he sat down and started reading the bible because right now he had his afternoon prayers but secretly wanted to die. He sat down on the dusty floor, cross legged reading the old testament and new testament, contemplating the events that unfolded, running his hands through his robes, feeling the holes that simlply passed through his clothing and hit others. He read the last words of his book out loud even though no-one was around. "The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen" The grace...the grace of the Lord No man or woman couldn't help but stifle a laugh as Ira did.