Post by Wes Flatfield on Dec 12, 2012 18:08:49 GMT -8
He refused to give in. He had steadily been creeping towards the 4th round of beeping as the week went on, but this morning he stuck to his guns. He reached backwards, dismissed the alarm clock, and made his way to his display model bathroom inside one of two “home comfort” stores he had been staying in. The mall was big to begin with but, as most survivers had come to learn, space only meant more shadows, corners and places for something to pop out of. It seemed like he had everything at his disposal, but rarely did Wes step outside the same four stores. The lantern flickered as he brushed his teeth and splashed his face with bottled water in attempt to fully awaken. No, he wasn’t driving to the firm or headed to the library, but waking up early to prepare was what he saw as the only reason he was still around. Once ready for the day, Wes walked three stores over and stepped into the sports store. He began working on the project he had started yesterday. With plenty of duct tape lying around, he had started building a sort of light weight armor by taping pieces of hockey equipment to a long sleeve Nike shirt. It looked terrible, but he figured out that one of the keys to surviving was making yourself mobile and resistant to scratching, biting, or anything that opened a wound. As he reached for some face gear, Wes heard a knocking in the distance. He was perhaps five stores from the double door eastern entrance to the mall. Without skipping a beat, he took his hunting rifle and sprinted towards the noise.