Night 52: Main Street

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

[From here.]

Now that they had found the right place, Zack had to remember where exactly the bar was. Had Tifa been there before, or has she only heard about it from other people? Either way, the soldier was fairly certain that he knew where to go from here, and that was to the left.

There was just one problem, though: they weren't alone. While the zombies didn't seem to have noticed them yet, they were still shambling around on the main road, heads tilting to the side or hands outstretched as they searched for food.

For them.

"Looks like we might have to make a run for it," he said with a sigh as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Unless we want to try the materia out now." It was tempting, but that might also classify as suicidal, hence why he wanted Tifa's opinion.

Comments

[stlg13bomber.livejournal.com]

"It's okay. I know this is pretty scary for you." Carter gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder and a patronizing little smile. Women just couldn't handle sneaking about in the dark, it wasn't suited to them.

Except for Tiger.

And the women from the German and French undergrounds.

And the German barmaid that helped out Colonel Hogan.

And Wilma Deering from the Buck Rogers comics.

And Kairi two nights ago.

All right, so some women weren't suited for sneaking about. It still meant he was obliged to be protective. "Yeah, that's the one," he said with a slight nod. He still wasn't really sure what Claire wanted with the hardware store but there was little to do about it. Even if she was one of the crazy ones, she was a Future crazy one and that meant she knew more than him. Carter rubbed one of his cold arms and took a quick look behind them as they advanced on the store.

Nothing. Just a cat.

[savagesolitude.livejournal.com]

Pretty scary for her? Who had been the one clinging to her arm like a little kid? Teeth were gritted in silence, but Claire chose to keep her mouth shut. Men. Seriously.

She approached the glass door and pulled. Locked, of course. But this was far easier to handle than the locked doors of the Dharma stations, all steel and barricades. This? This was a snap.

Claire tucked the knife into the brim of her pants and drew her flashlight from her pocket. She looked around her and over Andrew's shoulder, left and right. Still as dead as the grave. Using the flat, bulbless end, she punched through the glass above the handle with a great crash!

The first hit made a web of cracks like a baseball hitting a windshield, but it didn't go through. She pursed her lips and hit it again, putting all her muscle into it. CRASH!

Success.

Claire glanced around furtively, then hastily reached inside (not without nicking the back of her hand a bit - she was expecting it, so it didn't hurt so bad) and turned the knob. The door swung open easily. There wasn't even an alarm going off.

Something was starting to get a little fishy...

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