#enochxrick

[dehiscent-penumbra]

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"Badass, handsome, police." - First three words on Enoch’s mind. 

[dehiscent-penumbra]

Gunpowder and Lead [notthegoodgrimes] [Closed]

It'd been nearly a year since the dead had begun walking again. Sure, a year was enough time to adapt, right? Except it wasn't, not for the young blonde. Pain was the only thing keeping him going anymore. Pain from the sickness slowly eating him from the inside. The cancer was slowly spreadin. It had been spreading slower before the crash of the entire world, but that's what happens when the world goes bonkers and decides to turn itself inside out. The dead rise, people go crazy and cancer spreads faster without the constant drip of chemo and radiation smothering its existence. Unfortunately, the generators could only keep running so long...

Every last one, route one, rural heart's got a story to tell Every grandma, in law, ex girlfriend Maybe knows you just a little too well Whether you're late for church or you're stuck in jail Hey words gonna get around Everybody dies famous in a small town

The sound of the radio shut off, Miranda Lambert's voice fading from the air. The singer was probably dead, or locked up tight somewhere in a big mansion with lots of bodyguards and shotguns. What Enoch wouldn't give for that. To be holed up somewhere safe and sound, with people and food, and maybe a goddamn pack of smokes. Before entering chemo, he'd quit smoking, but once the apocalypse, or end of the world or whatever people were calling it, hit, he was done with not smoking. It wasn't like it was going to make him die any faster, right? The young blonde snorted, brushing his long hair back and flicking his lighter open. Taking a deep inhale from the fag, he flipped it closed, leaning against the side of the Dodge truck he'd managed to keep going for the past seven months. At least he had cds to listen to while driving. It was better than the endless silence of being alone.

Of course, it also had the bad habit of attracting walkers if he kept it turned up too loud. The male sighed as a particularly ugly skeletial man made his way toward him, growling and making those disgusting noises they were known for. Pulling the serated hunting knife he'd taken off a walker way back when this first started, he moved forward, driving the blade into the skull of the man. He jerked it back, watching the corpse drop to the ground. He sighed softly, blowing smoke out of his mouth and using the once animated corpse to wipe the gore from the blade and handle. He tucked it back into his belt loop, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves and searching the corpse. Of course, nothing he could use. Money was useless and most of the time nowadays he was encountering walkers with little more than that or empty wallets. He grabbed the ankles of the man, dragging him off the road into the ditch and dumping him there with the gloves. Up ahead, it looked like there was a neighborhood, and beyond that, a prison. Hopefully the neighborhood hadn't been too ransacked. Maybe there was still food he could use. Something, anything. Medicine, maybe. But the prison... That was where he'd find the goods, if someone hadn't gotten there ahead of him.

Nearly two hours later.....

The young blonde let out a curse, climbing from the truck and staring up the lane at the prison. Looks like someone's already home. A lot of someones. And they'd been there for awhile, by the looks of the garden growing. Enoch shut his door, running a hand through his long hair and sighing, "Fuck...." It was doubtful the people would be friendly. He'd only encountered crazy or dumb people so far, and had tried to stay away from them in general as much as he could. It looked like there were kids here, though. Maybe he could fit in... He would have to see what happened. Climbing in his truck, he drove up closer to the fence. The gates swung open for him, allowing him to drive into the little gravel area. He stopped, placing the car in park and rolling down the window. From there, he shut it off, taking the gun from his passenger seat and handing it through to the lovely brunette with short hair. He watched the Asian boy call up to the others, but registered nothing he said. Holding his hands up, he motioned downward, "I'm going to get out. I have a knife on my belt. I'm going to take it off." Carefully climbing from the truck, he did as he said, dropping the knife on the ground. Maggie nodded, "Good. Stay here. Rick and the counsel members will be here soon." Enoch nodded, tucking his hands around his stomach and leaning against the side of his truck to await the arrival of this mysterious Rick and "counsel." A thought crossed Enoch's mind as he waited, making the corners of his lips arch up into a smirk. The man had a counsel, or so that's what it seemed.

Was he some sort of king wannabe?