Paul Murphy

paul is seventy-nine years old, stuck with his one year old granddaughter, gina ann.

[closer-is-god-blog]

Double Edged | {open} | Cheyenne

Sitting on an upturned barrel at the end of the road, ankles crossed, demeanor lazy like a cat; not calm but deceptively loose. Dean puffed on his cigar, something he’d found in the military base he was staying in now. A real treat from cheap cigarettes and stale gum to try to keep him busy.

"While I may be able to help you," he paused to blow a stream of wild smoke through the crisp but bright air, "—the question is will I."

He was never quick to offer aid; only if it was necessary for his group—his reflexes were never dull when it came to an undead trying to get a taste of someone he was in an admittedly ambiguous, but still spoken contract to protect however he could. But nobody could ever say Dean MacBride had a big heart; certainly no one who was alive.

And giving out supplies, directions, and advice was something he’d never done as of yet, and didn’t plan on doing any time soon for anything short of a good price.

[paul--murphy-blog]

Paul was tempted to call the man an asshole, but he needed to know if there were any ways to contact the outside world beyond the radio that occasionally gave him some info. The bananas the man had were less important.

Paul sighed, as Gina Ann played with his beard. She was happy at the moment, the utter opposite of him. But she was a baby, what did she know?

"Please, I just want to know if there's any chance I can find my family."

[paul--murphy-blog]

Quietly Now || Paul & Anthony || Cheyenne

[prisonhunt-blog]

Anthony narrowed his eyes at the baby. Gina Ann. What kind of stupid old-fashioned name was that? He didn’t bother about bringing the question up. The last thing he wanted was to be held up in a pointless argument with an old, vulnerable man with a baby who’s not even conscious enough to be able to fend for herself.

He took wide, hurried steps to the back of the counter as the old man retorted back at him. He rummaged through the cabinets for sleeping pills, but instead of reading the names and contents on the drug packaging, he was just sweeping all of them into his satchel. 

One couldn’t take too many precautions, could they?

When the old man was done, Anthony stood up, looking over his shoulder to where the man stood with what seemed to be his grandchild…well, he was hoping it was his grandchild at least.

"Perhaps." He shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t experienced with children - he could have if all this had not happened. The memories of his late lover started to haunt him and he quickly shook it off by opening his mouth to speak.

"Tell you what, sir - take my advice, and join some survival group," he said, returning back to gathering whatever useful drugs was still available. Or you could just tape the baby’s huge mouth and keep it in some locked room. Safety over comfort always, right? “I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but your weak knees added with the burden of a baby, who perhaps can’t run for nuts yet, will only get you in trouble, sir.”

Anthony shook his head. He didn’t want to sound harsh about life and death, especially after what happened to him; but someone has got to give the old man the reality of their current state somehow. 

"Have you found what you’re looking for already?"

[paul--murphy-blog]

Paul just had a dead look as the kid told him to find people. "You think I haven't tried? All my family is missing and I can't leave my granddaughter alone." He almost added that clearly the kid didn't have any children, but something in him told him that could be a mistake. 

Gina Ann gave a little giggle towards the man and seemed to want to get out of the carrier, but she had to stay put. No way in hell she was going to let her crawl around in this muck. 

The kid asked him a question and Paul shook his head. "Yes, but this isn't as looted as it could have been, I want to have a look around." He turned and walked behind the slightly beaten counter and started looking at what bottles of pills were left. 

His older daughter had been a sickly child and Paul worked in law, so he knew many of the drug names. Mostly he grabbed some antibiotics and his blood pressure medicine he needed every once in a while. 

"Got allergies? There are some 'behind the counter' things back here," Paul said, politely. He wasn't really sure what was going on with this kid, but Paul didn't want to drive him away. 

[little-orphan-autumn]

Lost || Autumn && Paul || Cheyenne

[little-orphan-autumn]

Nothing mattered in this moment in time. A small, fraction of her life had already been completed and Autumn couldn’t find the energy to move. What a shame it was, a child that should be so full of innocence and life had found her nook in a low canyon of her young life. 

Out of everything that had happened in the days prior to now nothing next to death could pull the child out of her own reckless sobs. Her thoughts had stopped, and in her child-like selfishness she could’ve sworn the world stopped spinning. Unfortunately, it didn’t, and with her eyes down turned and blurred with tears she hadn’t noticed an older man approaching her small form on the ground. 

Upon his words, although they didn’t really seem to have meaning, she glanced upwards at him, blankly, tears and sobs still escaping her. The blue green gaze remained empty and hollow, sunken into her face until the baby started to stir. She hadn’t noticed that there was a baby with him; although she had been thoroughly instructed never to talk to strangers, this seemed okay.

"I-I.." she hiccuped out trying to stay quiet upon his request, "I kn-know.." she coughed, sniffling back the sickness that began to boil under the hysterics. "I know…" she whimpered, lowering her eyes again and cracking under another pressured sob. 

[paul--murphy-blog]

Right then, Paul knew he had to take care of this girl. She wasn't screaming for her mother or family, which he concluded meant she didn't have any or they were gone. 

"Sh, child, I know it's hard. But, would you like to come with me and Gina Ann? We're going to try to find shelter near by, if you'd want to come with," Paul said, trying to not sound weird. This is exactly the type of thing that he'd told his children and older grandchildren to avoid; strangers were never to be truly trusted. 

This is what the world was, a place where strangers were chances at safety and who wasn't a stranger? Who still had family left? Paul did have Gina Ann, but she was hardly a proper person yet. She was a child, not even walking. But close, Paul thought with a tinge of pride. 

Paul looked at the girl again. He really did want to help her. She was young, but clearly old enough to understand what happened, if anyone really understood it. The girl was old enough to understand, but she still was someone who needed protection. Hell, didn't they all need protection?

[paul--murphy-blog]

Quietly Now || Paul & Anthony || Cheyenne

[prisonhunt-blog]

It has been days since Anthony last had a long peaceful sleep. His insomnia was perhaps the result of shooting his wife-to-be point blank and it traumatised him. He was able to ignore the feelings as the days passed, but for all the hurt that he’s been suppressing, it came out in the form of insomnia. The effects of a lack of sleep were already catching up him and he knew he had to get a proper night’s sleep unless he wanted to die in the hands of Satan’s spawns.

Anthony found a pharmacy sign blinking in the dark. It was a miracle that there was still some electricity for the sign to light up, albeit inconsistently. He made his way to it. As soon as he neared the pharmacy, he could smell the rotten stench of a walking dead. 

Having been completely isolated in the airport for too long has made Anthony extra sensitive to the stench of the walking dead. And he knew that there was one in his vicinity. He was a walking zombie-radar, that was for sure. As he walked, he could already see the head of a zombie from afar. Thankfully, Anthony was hidden behind the abandoned cars as he walked down the pavement. When he had gotten close enough, he hid behind an old pick-up truck, counting down the seconds to which he would pounce on the zombie and attack. 

All he had with him was a crowbar. But that was enough to kill so as long as he used it with great force.

Anthony was just about to attack when he (and the zombie) got distracted by the sound of … a wailing baby?

"What the — " He was cut short when he saw his target dashed past him, towards the pharmacy. He cursed and quickly ran after it. Of all places, and of all people, there just had to be a baby. 

Anthony was just right behind the zombie when it reached the doors of the pharmacy and Anthony knew that that was the closest he could get to the zombie. All in the name of getting a good hit at it. He lifted his crowbar almost immediately and swung it just in time to hit the head of the zombie, causing it to bounce against the door frame and collapsing to the ground. 

He looked up from the limp decaying body and saw an old man with the crying baby.

"A baby? You just had to bring a fucking baby?”

[paul--murphy-blog]

Paul saw the zombie and aimed the gun. Was he supposed to shot the heart or the head? He pulled the trigger and nothing. He fumbled, realizing the safety was still on. Before he could fix it, a crow bar slammed down on the zombie. A younger man walked a bit closer and insulted Paul. Gina Ann stopped crying and looked at the man before pursing her lips.

"Now, now, Gina Ann, let's be nice to the man who just saved our lives," Paul said. "Thank you for that." Yes, the man was a bit rude, but hell, this was hell. The baby was still only one, so she wouldn't really be learning any words she shouldn't be.

The man seemed surprised at Gina Ann. "And what exactly do you expect me to do with her? Leave her by herself?" Paul asked, a hint of venom in his voice. He knew that he was getting older and didn't have all the time left in this world. But to hell with anyone who tried to stop him from making sure his granddaughter survived. She was all he had left in the world. 

His wife had been in DC and his children should have been around but at this point, he assumed they were all dead. Paul had mourned their loses, but he had someone who needed him. Even if she wasn't quite able to walk yet, she could still be a great person. 

But how could you plan for a future when you couldn't plan the next five minutes?

Paul looked over the man. He seemed fit and not critical ill or suffering any physical damages. Surely, the man would move on, but perhaps Paul could convince him to stay around for a few days, help him get supplies so Gina Ann and himself could be safe. 

[little-orphan-autumn]

Lost || Autumn && Paul || Cheyenne

"No don’t go.." the little brunette girl cried out as a uniformed man placed her down right outside of Cheyenne. “I have to,” he cooed at her, kneeling down to look her square in her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair back out of her face. He gave her careful instructions, handing her her backpack and giving her a small kiss on her forehead. Even the small child could tell that the hurt him. As he arose back up, he tipped her chin up towards his own with the gentle touch of two fingers under her soft, pale skin and used the rough pad of his thumb to brush the small tears from her cheeks. 

When a crackling voice came over his radio it broke the moment, pulling the man back into his job. Before Autumn could object, he turned her around by her shoulders, gave her a small nudge— and he was gone.

Autumn stood a moment of fear and abandonment for the second time in her young life. The memories flashed of her mother and father struggling for their lives as a bush rustled to her right. Already big eyes grew wider with terror at what may lie behind the foliage which forced the little girl to take off in a sprint faster than her little feet could carry her. It was no time before she was back in town.

Blanketed in pure exhaustion, the little girl stumbled downward onto her knees and broke out in tears. Her stomach grumbled, her heat thudded so hard it could break a rib, her eyes were dry and tired, her whole body shook and all she could do was cry. 

[paul--murphy-blog]

Paul had remembered that his old friend had recently passed away and that his farm was still mangled up in the estate. He had no children, so it was to be given to a nephew. The nephew was long gone and the lawyers had been trying to figure out what to do with it. Of course, this was a month or so ago, before the zombies started. 

But, the farm wasn't that far out of town. It would take Paul maybe a half day or a day to walk to it and it should be better stocked than he was. If nothing else, the crops might still be good after excessive boiling. 

When Gina Ann had still been sleeping, Paul packed them up and started to head towards the farm. It hadn't been much past an hour when he heard crying. At first, he ignored it, as Gina Ann was peacefully sleeping in the carrier. But he was a father and a grandfather. The crying was coming from a child.

Carefully, Paul walked over to crying child. She was a young girl. No one he knew, and he knew many of the children at the school from his grandchildren. He approached her and was tempted to touch her shoulder, but that might scare her. 

"Are you okay?" Paul asked. 

Just then, Gina Ann woke up. She was a bit fussy, so Paul began to sway a little, trying to keep her quiet. "Also, my dear, there are monsters around, so if you can be quiet, you really should."

[paul--murphy-blog]

Quietly Now || Paul & -- || Cheyenne

Even without words, it was clear that Gina Ann knew what was up. Paul knew he needed to leave the house, but he couldn't figure out how. There was no way he was leaving her alone in his house, but there was no way he could bring her. This impasse had stumped him for days, during which time Gina seemed to be getting ill. He knew kids got ill all the time, but he wanted to give her some baby medicine. People who had ransacked the stores in town surely would have left baby medicine, right?

He would't know until he got there and he still didn't know how to get there. He wished his wife, Virginia, was here with him. She could help him. Any other person, actually, would be rather useful. 

Paul walked through the house again. Pacing was natural to him, a way of thinking, from many years in the courtroom. He always thought he was good at thinking on his feet (no pun intended) and had a list of clients a mile long who would agree. But this, this was not thinking well on his feet. Gina Ann needed medicine. He needed to go to the store. 

He looked back over at his granddaughter. She was happily in a little bouncy chair, but looked a few minutes away from sleep. It was getting late, he knew, but if she was sleeping, that would be his best chance. He waited until she was sleeping before scoping her up into a carrier. How many times had he made fun of his son-in-law for carrying her around in it? Perhaps it would be life saving. He grabbed his wife's handgun and an old baseball bat, before leaving the house and locking the door. For a moment, he wondered if he should leave it unlocked, should he be running away from zombies, but he decided against it. No one could it without obvious damage this way. 

Thankfully, there was a pharmacy six or seven blocks away from his house. The door was long gone, but it appeared to not have been fully pick through. Quietly, he walked towards the spot with the baby medicine and began to put all of the types into his pockets.  Suddenly, he heard footsteps and Paul turned towards the noise. The footsteps seemed to be heading away from him, praise the Lord. That was, at least, until Gina Ann woke up and started crying. 

Shit, Paul thought, switching the bat to his left hand and grabbed the gun. 

[milkovichhelps]

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