Samuel Bryant
“St-stay where you are. Don’t move an inch or I’ll shoot!” Stopping in his tracks, he tried to see the voice speaking to him. "What do you want?" Came another call.
"Oh shi--! Wait wait!" Shielding his eyes from the light, Sam cast around behind him, knowing he had already moved and should go back to where he was already standing. The light illuminated the puddle fairly decently and he hopped back to where it was, too excited to care that he was still doing exactly what the voice had told him not to do. "There, or was it here?" Quickly sidestepping, he positioned himself in the center of the puddle. Satisfied that he was now back where he started, he finally quit moving and addressed to voice behind the light.
"Sorry 'bout that," the slight Irish accent still evident in his speech. "I saw you and your guitar outside and couldn't help it. You're the first person I've spotted alive in...well...months." The words came out in a bit of a rush, but Sam's excitement overrode his sense of caution and everything began to spill out. But taking a breath and slowing down a bit, he addressed the light still in his face.
"Is that really needed? You could see me without ruining what's left of me eyes. Besides, if you're gonna' shoot, then do it and get it over with. If not, then at least let me get these damn clothes off." At the moment, Sam's dripping jacket was still adding to the puddle around him, and the moisture was beginning to sink into his shirt underneath. Moving his feet again, he rolled his shoulders at the uncomfortable chill starting to set in and laughed inwardly at the fact he was still moving around.
"All I want is to know I'm not goin' crazy. I thought one of the bodies was speaking to me the other day, and now I'm seeing live people. Please for the love of whatever the hell is still out there tell me you are real..."