Welcome to the safe zone - Sample
It felt like being in one of those weird end of the world, nuclear disaster type films. Where there was a military base that the heroes ran too for safety at the end of the film. And there was always a 50% chance that whoever lived there was going to a corrupt madman who was either on a power trip or just scared into insanity. Then again, there was also a chance that this would be the happy ever after type place where things would go well and he'd be safe from flesh eating zombies. Which was a film worthy cliché if anything.
He supposed, logically of course, that he was the dashing hero of the story. Or so he liked to think, it made this whole experience a lot less terrifying. Plus, the dashing guy always died second to last and while he couldn't be the sexy female heroin who usually died last, he could at least hang in there for a while this way. He'd like to see how all this played out. Right now, he couldn't see a happy ending in sight. Not after all those torn out necks, clawed up faces and walking lumps of rotting flesh all over the streets. It stopped being pleasant to get his groceries about 4 months ago.
He almost starved in that time, as well!
Looking around what he assumed was affectionately dubbed 'the safe zone', he peered around and took in the sights. Ah, another cliché. Stone walls, barb wire on the fences and one of those guard toward thingys. Great, if they wanted too, they could snipe him.
Not that he assumed they'd be wasting their bullets on him instead of the walking dead that seemed to fill most the country. He would utter 'only in America' but he assumed even his own home fields were plagued with walking dead.
Sure he worried about his mom, dad and -- actually, that was about it. He didn't have that many people to worry about who he classes as close friends. Blythe maybe? The lesser mans Watson! He did rather appreciate having a sidekick. Perhaps he could find a new one. Then again, he did have less to investigate these days, he was sorely missing any cases, what with most the murders being caused by the walking undead. And he was pretty sure he couldn't bring them to trial, it would be as pointless as bringing a dog to trial.
Counting his losses, he gave up on prospect of a career and focused mainly on the here and now. He hadn't gotten a chance to bring much, just the odd junk in his pockets and his badge, not that it'd come in much use. Sighing, he followed the officers instructions, not sure where they were going exactly, simply that they were apparently now as safe as they could be. There didn't seem to be many military officers around and he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not but regardless, he followed their words right now to a tee.
Into the fallout shelter-ish looking place he went, not sure what he was meant to do or why he was this lucky. He just merely played along.
He supposed, logically of course, that he was the dashing hero of the story. Or so he liked to think, it made this whole experience a lot less terrifying. Plus, the dashing guy always died second to last and while he couldn't be the sexy female heroin who usually died last, he could at least hang in there for a while this way. He'd like to see how all this played out. Right now, he couldn't see a happy ending in sight. Not after all those torn out necks, clawed up faces and walking lumps of rotting flesh all over the streets. It stopped being pleasant to get his groceries about 4 months ago.
He almost starved in that time, as well!
Looking around what he assumed was affectionately dubbed 'the safe zone', he peered around and took in the sights. Ah, another cliché. Stone walls, barb wire on the fences and one of those guard toward thingys. Great, if they wanted too, they could snipe him.
Not that he assumed they'd be wasting their bullets on him instead of the walking dead that seemed to fill most the country. He would utter 'only in America' but he assumed even his own home fields were plagued with walking dead.
Sure he worried about his mom, dad and -- actually, that was about it. He didn't have that many people to worry about who he classes as close friends. Blythe maybe? The lesser mans Watson! He did rather appreciate having a sidekick. Perhaps he could find a new one. Then again, he did have less to investigate these days, he was sorely missing any cases, what with most the murders being caused by the walking undead. And he was pretty sure he couldn't bring them to trial, it would be as pointless as bringing a dog to trial.
Counting his losses, he gave up on prospect of a career and focused mainly on the here and now. He hadn't gotten a chance to bring much, just the odd junk in his pockets and his badge, not that it'd come in much use. Sighing, he followed the officers instructions, not sure where they were going exactly, simply that they were apparently now as safe as they could be. There didn't seem to be many military officers around and he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not but regardless, he followed their words right now to a tee.
Into the fallout shelter-ish looking place he went, not sure what he was meant to do or why he was this lucky. He just merely played along.