intro
Ellis isn't really used to snow. That is to say, Louisiana never really got a lot. Sleet, sometimes, in brief spurts of sharp cold, and gusting sheets of rain in the winter, but rarely snow that actually stuck to the ground. Never like this, with snow enough that it caked up around his ankles and fell into his shoes, and he gave a little shiver of frostbite and childish delight as he piled snow with bare hands into a giant mound at an empty street corner. He was, apparently, building a Snow Boomer.
He wasn't exactly sure where he was, and it sure as fuck didn't look like home, but hey -- there were no zombies. This place was kind of creepy. It would have been creepier if he didn't have an axe slung across his back, the flat of the blade 'tumping' lightly against his shirt with each broad movement of his arms.
He wasn't exactly sure where he was, and it sure as fuck didn't look like home, but hey -- there were no zombies. This place was kind of creepy. It would have been creepier if he didn't have an axe slung across his back, the flat of the blade 'tumping' lightly against his shirt with each broad movement of his arms.