carracosta | beez in the trap

beez in the trap

[time is ruthless when unchecked, gnawing at sore ankles and palms tough as leather, drawing blood that draws walkers in turn. Murasa stopped keeping track after the day she watched her group get torn apart amidst gunfire and screams. only day and night exist now, monday and tuesday and everything after that gone. all gone, just like the world and society and everything she misses and wishes she could forget about.

finding Madoka shocked her out of her numb stupor (and in a sense, brought her back from the dead). they're not alone anymore- alone, in this world of death even after death, but not on their own. they've had too many close calls but somehow, by some random miracle, they're alive and unharmed.

they can't stay in one place too long. the walkers might move slower than the living, but they still move nonetheless. they made it out of the city and out into the countryside where they're less likely to be ambushed by a mob around any corner. there's a farmhouse visible just about half a mile away. the barn beside it could provide extra cover until they rest and gather more supplies as well.

or it could hold a crowd of walkers inside.

Murasa glances at Madoka. they've been walking for hours in the blistering sun and their water supply is nearly depleted. talking would only dry their throats so they haven't exchanged any words for a while now.]

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I think the house should be secure now, unless someone hacked at the door with an axe.

[people rarely travel by night now, though, so it should be fine, and the zombies aren't strong enough to break through barricaded windows and doors. unless a huge mass of them pushed against them, but. well. Murasa would rather not think about that. besides, they'd have no reason to swarm around the house as long as they don't know there aren't two people inside.

they can catch up on all the sleep they'd lost. what a nice thought.]

We can stay here for a while, if there's water and food.

Let's hope the walkers don't find an axe, then.

And food... we should have enough for a while. Maybe a week, if we stretch it. And maybe there are more supplies we missed in the first sweep.

[ she goes into analytical mode almost automatically--it wasn't as if she was normally a thinker or a planner. she'd always been happy to let others take the lead.

things changed when your life was in danger every day. ]

[right. taking stock, rationing, estimating how long they'd last, figuring out what to do next- an arduous process, but that's just everyday life now.]

... I'm gonna go back to sleep.

[or at least try to. she'd like to savor this moment of peace and quiet while she can, before morning comes and they hunt for more supplies.]

Unless you want me to take the first watch?

[do they even need watch when the house is barricaded and they're in the middle of nowhere? better safe than sorry.]

I'll be able to do that. I think I'm awake enough for that...

[ it was a little embarrassing to be caught asleep when she was trying to be on watch. embarrassing and dangerous. she wouldn't let it happen again.

she peeks out the gaps between the boarded windows--no silhouettes against the sunset here, then moves to check another window on the far side of the room. ]

You've been working hard, so please rest if you need it.

We've both been working hard.

[walking hard. yes, walking hard. walking dead too ha ha look at that blatant reference.]

Don't force yourself to stay awake. It's not good for you.

[ blatant note to self to play the games sitting in backlog. ]

No, I feel better than I have for a long time. That was the most sleep we've gotten in a while, huh?

Let's not get too comfortable so soon.

[even if... real beds. real beds! and a house! with a real roof!]

We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

[ she picks up the hammer, weighs it uncertainly in her hands. and she's not very handy, but barricades... how hard could those be. ]

I'll try to get more of it done in the meantime.

Be careful with the nails. We don't have much in the first aid kit.

[annnnd she'll be heading upstairs to sleep more.

fast forward to the morning?! because she's gonna be unconscious for the night.]

[ and she will be careful with the nails!... it turns out that they run out quicker than she was expecting and she was only able to get a few more boards up, but maybe they could do a nail-hunt later.

right now she'd be trying to nail a neat circle of holes around the top of a can of preserved tuna to try to open it. ]

[heeere she comes all rested but sadly still smelly because no running water!! not as bad-smelling as the corpse that was left outside, but still pretty unpleasant all the same.

if they can find a creek or something...!]

Morning. [not Good morning because they're never Good anymore!!! weh wehhh] ... Need some help with that?

Huh?... Morning!

[ someone apparently has rather lost track of time. she's pretty sure her own hair and clothes smell like dirt and blood and worse, not going to judge.

bathing... someday... is definitely a plan. ]

And help would be nice. This is surprisingly tricky.

Here- [taking the can. and. bashing it against the edge of the counter?? the lid pops off, sure, but some of the contents splash out.

but no, she's not gonna waste any of it. Murasa wipes some of it up with her fingers as she holds the can out to Madoka.]

We'll head out to look for more supplies in a few. Get ready.

... It'd be nice if there were a less messy way to do that.

[ maybe that's far too much to ask though, in a time and a situation like this. she takes the can, nibbles at a bit of tuna, almost catlike.

food was appreciated. ]

I'm ready anytime.

[ttttttttimeskip again!! for convenience and to glaze over the boring stuff like packing up.

the front door was left unboarded, only barricaded with some furniture. once they're pushed out of the way, Murasa peers out the peephole, gripping her knife.]

We have twelve bullets left. Don't shoot unless you're absolutely sure you need to.

[she had said that several times before, but it doesn't hurt to remind. nag. yeah, nagging.

okay, heading out...! no zombies around, thankfully.]

... Mhm. I'll be careful.

[ something that probably didn't need to be said, either. one of them had to be the careful one here.

not that she had much self-preservation at all either. she slips out after Murasa, squints against the dying sunlight as dusk falls around them. ]

Remember what I said that one time? If we're surrounded, you run, even if I get caught.

[to the barn!! Murasa kicks the door, waiting for anything that might be inside to respond. the only thing keeping it closed is a plank of wood crossing the doors- no padlocks, so maybe it's safe?]

... That's not going to happen. You getting caught.

[ and possibly not her running, either. she sucks in a breath as Murasa's kick lands--tries to strain to listen through the wind and birds at dusk. she could've sworn that she caught something like a groan inside.

maybe it was just old wood. she readies her gun regardless. ]

[she hesitates for a moment before answering.] Yeah, you're right. I'm too fast for those slowpokes.

[and somehow, she manages to laugh before a rotting hand breaks through weak wood, grabbing Murasa's arm.

whoops!!!]

Shit-

[pro: it can't bite her when the rest of its body is on the other side of the wall. con: it's pulling pretty hard and Murasa can't stab it from her position either.]

Wh--

[ it happens too quickly, but it's amazing how fast a person could react to danger in just a split second. she couldn't shoot--she might hit Murasa. the gun falls from shaking hands as she grabs Murasa's arm, tries to pull the walker's limb off with strength born of terror. but the zombie's grip was as strong as rigor mortis. ]

The knife! The knife! [she's scrambling for her own knife at her belt with her free hand, but it falls to the ground in her hasty panic.]

Cut its arm off!

R-right! The knife--where is--

[ almost forgetting where the hell she'd strapped her own blade, but she rips it from her own belt, equally frantic.

... it flies right out of her hand when the arm suddenly slams Murasa against the wall. both knives out of reach. ]

[DAMMIT MEDUKA

ok, ok, time to panic some more. and by that i mean improvise. kinda hard to when she's a bit disoriented from being slammed against the wall, but Murasa jerks away, trying to break the zombie's arm.

... it's not working. whoops.]

Wha... what do we do?!

[ panicking as the zombie starts to drag Murasa towards the shattered hole--it'd be difficult for it to bite her, but not impossible. she fumbles with her pistol, tries to press it towards the zombie's forearm. shooting off a limb wasn't impossible either, was it?? ]

Knife! Pick up the damn knife!

[she doesn't mean to sound angry but ZOMBIE AUUUGHHHHHHHH] Don't shoot!!

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