it's the end of the world as we know it and... (ifeelfine) wrote in immune_ic,
It was with the realization that firing his shotgun may not have been the best course of action in this situation when Gabe realized exactly how screwed he might be here. He heard the tell tale groans of more infected approaching, and while he tried to keep his cool, it was—well, unsuccessful didn't seem adequate. His heart thrummed in his chest and he resigned himself to firing on the last runner and stopping it in its tracks, even though he was completely aware now how bad of an idea that was. He couldn't just stop. If he stopped and let them take him? He was just signing his death certificate and his refusal to sit back and die all these years would have been little more than talk.
It was about then that he heard a voice from up above him, and he craned his neck to look up, catching sight of a woman looking down his way. Not helping. Just looking. "Thanks, I figured! Least nothing can sneak up behind me from here though!" he responded, not sarcastic—okay, maybe just a little bit—just informative. "Can you see how far?" he asked, reaching into his bag to reload his shotgun.
She asked how many shells he had and he held up a box. "'Bout fifteen!" he shouted back. "Why, need some?" Not that he could really get them to her up there, and not that he could afford to spare any, but once a Texan, always a Texan. He had to be polite and ask.
He didn't really have too much time to give them to her, though, because as soon as he finished that sentence, he spotted the first of the second "wave," as he liked to call them, rounding the corner. "Fuck," he cursed, waiting for it to get close enough to receive the full blast of the shotgun fire. He counted his shots, one, two, three, four, hoping to god that he had time to reload when the time came, or else he might just be fucked.