Snippet #2362652

Will knew how it looked. A man in a black jacket with his face hidden by a motorcycle helmet, carrying a hatchet, two guns, and two backpacks. It wasn't the most inviting of sights. The rising of the dead was a grace in this case. If it had been any other time, it would have been a case to call the police or to defend yourself.

The younger of the two he'd seen through the scope opened the door. She asked about Buster and Tara. Great. He just had to run into someone who knew her and the dog. Just his luck. He ignored the question, instead turning around briefly to check the area behind him. Thankfully, she didn't press it. At least not before she opened the door to let him and the dog in.

The older one was standing inside waiting with a gun pointed in his direction. Will didn't give it much attention. Maybe he'd gone numb to it, or maybe he was just numb to everything right now. He couldn't rightly tell. Slowly, he tucked away the hatchet and allowed both backpacks and the rifle slide off of his shoulders onto the floor near the couch. Buster stayed close, suspicious of the other two, though seeming less so of the younger one.

Words were spoken and he'd barely paid any attention to them, but some of them resonated in his brain.

"...don't think they'll be able to get into here..."

Of course not. Subconsciously, he knew that, but he didn't want to take any chances. On the other hand, maybe he was just that desperate for human contact. Not once since Nate had he spent more than a few minutes with anyone. Not until Tara. Now she was gone, and all he had to remind him of her was the hatchet that caused her to turn and a dog that only trusted him because his only other choice in the matter was to run off and fend for himself.

Sitting down first, the older girl indicated for him to sit down on the couch. Which, after a moment's hesitation, he did - forlornly. Silence overwhelmed him. It was deafening, as the saying goes. Before speaking, Will lifted his helmet off of his head, assuming that they might be less inclined to assume he was hostile if they could see his face. It was a ridiculous assumption, but it wouldn't hurt.

Finally, words came to him.

"I'm Will. I ran into Tara last night. We-- I came across where she was staying and she let me stay there too. We ran into a screamer and... she got infected. Last I saw her, I was in the woods with him..." He motioned to Buster, "...and she was headed off to the water. I don't know where she is now, or if she's even alive. If she is..." He paused for a few long moments, "If she is, then it won't be long before she... isn't."

Conveniently, he neglected to share how she got infected. It wasn't something he really felt like sharing, and he hoped they wouldn't ask.

Part of him told him to stop there, but he continued.

"I was in a house at the edge of town when I heard a scream. Human. By the time I found out where it had come from, I was too late. I'm sorry. If I could have done something, I would have. I'm sorry." He looked at the two girls. It was true, even if he felt guilty about it. When she screamed, it was too late. He knew that. The scream meant that she'd been bitten and nothing could have been done, except to remove what was bitten. And fast.

"You fired a lot of shots. I wanted to warn you and see if I could help, or maybe..." Will trailed off. He didn't particularly feel like telling them that he might have been desperate for human attention. Not to complete strangers. Slowly, he stood up and looked at the two once again, and then to what he'd dropped by the couch.

"I don't want any trouble. I can go somewhere out of the way, or I can go, if you're sure you'll be okay." He really didn't want to impose on anybody else, especially after what ended up happening after the last time he found himself staying with someone. Certainly, he didn't want another person he came across getting infected after coming across him. He was fully prepared to leave right now if that's what they wanted. Even with the dead out there on their way, he was confident that he could make it if he left now.

Regardless of what they decided, he bent over to pick up the backpacks and the rifle he had been carrying and walked towards a room away from the two, where he slid down onto the floor. Buster padded along behind him and sat down again next to him, his head on his paws and his eyes on the room where the other two were. There, they waited for a decision to be made.