|Geoffrey Davies (ex_bangbang651) wrote in immune_ic,|
@ 2011-11-05 13:23:00
|Entry tags:||# 2011  november|
Who: Geoffrey and Bennet
Where Grand Central
What: Geoffrey has a mysterious wound and is exhibiting flu like symptoms
He told himself he could be the lone ranger type of fellow. Trashing through facilities to find all sorts of goods. Though a NY Public Library "native", he was starting to break from the very thin shell that confined him there. He was starting to need that rush of exploring. It wasn't the danger he craved, it was the comfort of walking, memorizing areas light on the zombies. There, he could think and only use a few bullets. He was just that. A thinker. Days he would go without sleep and surrender to sketching on a notepad he found in a nearby complex. He would sort books if anxious and really , though the library was among the most famous in the world, it got boring. Boring as hell when it became a sanctuary. People weren't up for conversation. They sobbed at night for their lost ones and many seemed to be having trouble adapting.
When he went out exactly a day, three hours and seventeen minutes ago, he was in an old apartment complex trying to be of help to the medical team scattered about. He'd just hand the items to someone who tended to go all over to send supplies. Those were the people he admired. Ones who could go out in the battlefield without a sliver of fear in their veins. They were dedicated to their duties and took out whatever the hell was in their way.
Geoffrey had a weakness for saying no. It just didn't appear like he could muster the assertiveness to say he didn't feel comfortable about things. When the designated runner for the library was killed by an exploder, Geoffrey decided to take his place and begin his journey to Grand Central where medical supplies were needed. Nothing too serious, just pain killers, bandages, a few antibiotics and first aid kits. They seemed to be a surplus as of late so the library was willing to aid and even gave Geoffrey a small "jackpot zone".
The trip was long and since he started towards night, he camped out at a complex where only a few shufflers slowly swayed and stumbled. He kept an eye open as he slept, anxious and nervous to even be away from a place that had snipers on the roof. This wasn't a looting mission. This was something he felt good doing though scared. He told himself all would be well, he'd come back to the library and continue his anxious and bored ways.
When he woke in the morning, he opened the door to a nasty surprise. A runner plowed into him, his teeth almost delving into the survivors flesh. But he used a nearby pipe to plunge it through the monsters skull. He felt pain in his upper arm, his shirt soaking in blood. He couldn't understand how he got the wound and ignored it. He could be quite the clumsy fellow at times. For all he knew he fell on a piece of glass.
But then it started. The chills, the nausea, tiredness and a fever. The wound puffed up in irritation. Geoffrey walked into Grand Central barely able to keep his feet from shuffling on the floor. He dropped the medical goods by the feet of a survivor and continued to walk until he found a chair and slouched in it. He just wanted to sleep. He couldn't have been bitten...