InsaneJournal

Who: Simon and Alyson (and Seb, if he decides to come later!)
What: Rescue mission, day one million and twelve. Or something like that.
Where: Rolling Acres Trailer Park, Monroeville.
When: Night.
Rating: Probably PG-ish.
Status: Incomplete.


So what if this rescue mission was turning out to be the worst one on record? So what if they'd gotten dangerously off-course, set the first aid kits (and some Australians) on fire, and had two-way radios that didn't seem to be picking up any signal whatsoever? Perhaps these things might have deterred some people - depressed them, even. Perhaps this was the point where most people would have curled up into the foetal position and cried their sleepless eyes out. But not Simon. Simon was not about to let a few zombies, near-fatal errors, and having a terrible driver (sorry, Seb) get him down. No, Simon was feeling more encouraged than ever! Granted, it was probably because he hadn't slept in what seemed like an eternity and perhaps also because his diet consisted mostly of alcohol and instant snack food, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Simon was determined. At least, he thought he was.

Upon spying what looked like the first signs of life in many, many kilometers, Simon nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get out of the car and head towards what was perhaps the first person needing rescuing that they'd found thus far. He left Sebastian and Jeeves in the car, taking two of his (now numerous) guns with him as he headed off into the darkness towards the sight of trailer park lights and some billowing, lively(!) smoke. So much for his previous 'look before you leap' mentality. Some surprises were a welcome break from the monotony of wandering aimlessly.

A few zombies, obligingly clad in the very trailer park attire they'd lived and died in, staggered towards him the instant his feet touched solid ground. Whereas he might have startled a few weeks earlier, now this was all just a matter of course. He shot them each in the face in turn, then shot them again, just to make sure. They'd loaded up on enough ammo not to have to be stingy with their bullets by now.

No-one else harassed him on his way to the lit trailer, aside from a zombie dog still tethered to a fencepost. He shot it, too. Put the thing out of its misery, he figured.

As he mounted the steps leading up to the trailer door, he ascended them backwards at first, not wanting to turn his back on whatever might be lurking nearby. He hoped that the trailer's occupant wouldn't be out for brains, either, but he'd already decided that if his knocks were greeted with moans and clawing sounds, he'd be perfectly fine with heading back to the vehicle empty-handed.

A rescue would be much, much better, though.

Simon knocked on the door quite politely.

"Red Cross! Is anyone home!" he hollered, a touch less politely.