Snippet #2595627

Taking a final drag of his joint, Percy flicked the roach onto the moldy carpet.

He surveyed the rest of the house which didn't have much to offer. He however found an old gym bag which he used to stored some of the supplies in. He put the rest of the supplies into his pockets and a makeshift sack from curtains.

Starting towards the window he entered he took a look back at the scene, and exited the premise.

He looked over his wounds a final time, the stab wound was not as bad as he thought. A screwdriver wound, blunt, but sharp enough to go a far bit into his flesh. The wound was a little thicker and wider than a pencil, but went into his body a few good inches; he suppressed the bleeding with a kitchen rag.

The bullet wound on the other hand was more severe. It went into his upper bicep, and still resided there. He tied a piece of ripped T-shirt around it, which he found in the gym bag. (Wisecrack's shirt became too soaked in blood)

He started off into the street. Now with a clear mind he remembered something that he heard before the supplies dropped. "HURRY UP! THE FUCKERS ARE ALREADY COMING!"

He thought to himself "Yes. I remember now! A loud bunch they where." he let off an audible snicker. "Considerate too, surely not savages? Let's see."

He snapped out of his thoughts, and with a gentle smirk on his face, he started moving towards the general location of where he saw the group, reeking of smoke.

What did he care if they where savages or not? He probably only had two more months to live anyway.

He hated this existence but honestly he still found some things to enjoy, the small things, where what made him happy.