Post by Murray Jay Suskind on Mar 5, 2007 20:03:21 GMT -5
It was hard to read any signs outside of a building for many reasons anymore. One was the fact that so many signs were torn down, burned, covered in dirt, grime and other fancies of a zombie apocalypse. But probably the thing that damned Murray Jay Suskind's vision the most was the fact that one of the lenses of his glasses had shattered. He even had to teach himself how to fire a gun left handed so that he could aim with the one eye he could see out of anymore.
Standing on the roof of a building he saw a fairly quiet building across the street. The zeds seem quiet, he thought to himself. Just then, as he squinted he saw a rusty metal sign hanging above the heavy metal doorway. "The Elbow Room" it said with just a peak of light glinting out of one the windows. Looking around Murray found a telephone line hanging between the two buildings. The drop was only about 15 to 20 feet, but he was still a bit nervous. He had lost a lot of weight since things started going down. Lost about 25 pounds to get down to the weight of his old peace corps days. He laughed as he thought, Yeah, the fucking peace corps. Pretty ironic that the shit I learned there is saving me now.
Even with his skinnier frame he was still a big guy. A 6'3" frame with broad shoulders made for a lot of weight even with his stomach slowly wasting away. That and his old Tumi bag filled with various goodies was weighing him down, too. Considered a luxury item before the storm hit, the bag designed to take a beating from airline baggage handlers had performed very admirably during the months of running, fighting and holding on, showing only the slightest signs of wear and tear.
As he got a firm grip on the telephone line he swung down, feeling the line give thinking, Oh shit. I'm gonna break a fucking ankle and make enough noise to call all the zeds between here and Hong Kong. However, the line held, just sagging a bit from his weight. He strained across the wire, muscles exhausted from overuse and malnourishment. Eventually he worked his way up to a boarded up window and started kicking the boards in. As he kicked the wire started to sag and sway more, but held until he kicked the boards out of his way and slid in through the window.
He found himself standing in a dimly lit room full of women's clothing laid out across the pieces of furniture. He took a moment to gather his bearings as he heard someone creaking up the stairs, probably seeing what the commotion was.
Standing on the roof of a building he saw a fairly quiet building across the street. The zeds seem quiet, he thought to himself. Just then, as he squinted he saw a rusty metal sign hanging above the heavy metal doorway. "The Elbow Room" it said with just a peak of light glinting out of one the windows. Looking around Murray found a telephone line hanging between the two buildings. The drop was only about 15 to 20 feet, but he was still a bit nervous. He had lost a lot of weight since things started going down. Lost about 25 pounds to get down to the weight of his old peace corps days. He laughed as he thought, Yeah, the fucking peace corps. Pretty ironic that the shit I learned there is saving me now.
Even with his skinnier frame he was still a big guy. A 6'3" frame with broad shoulders made for a lot of weight even with his stomach slowly wasting away. That and his old Tumi bag filled with various goodies was weighing him down, too. Considered a luxury item before the storm hit, the bag designed to take a beating from airline baggage handlers had performed very admirably during the months of running, fighting and holding on, showing only the slightest signs of wear and tear.
As he got a firm grip on the telephone line he swung down, feeling the line give thinking, Oh shit. I'm gonna break a fucking ankle and make enough noise to call all the zeds between here and Hong Kong. However, the line held, just sagging a bit from his weight. He strained across the wire, muscles exhausted from overuse and malnourishment. Eventually he worked his way up to a boarded up window and started kicking the boards in. As he kicked the wire started to sag and sway more, but held until he kicked the boards out of his way and slid in through the window.
He found himself standing in a dimly lit room full of women's clothing laid out across the pieces of furniture. He took a moment to gather his bearings as he heard someone creaking up the stairs, probably seeing what the commotion was.
