Who: Alan and OPEN When: Day 3, 10:15 am Where: The Hotel - random hallway
They were lucky to have found this place, Alan thought. Lucky to be alive. Though, the morbid part of him couldn't help but consider that the dead who littered the streets of Detroit were really the lucky ones. They didn't have to live through the aftermath. The future seemed as dark and bleak as the morning, which clouded up quickly and let loose with a torrential downpour. Outside the window, visibility was reduced, but from Alan's vantage point on one of the upper floors, he could still see the movement of monsters moving through the streets, their howls and inhuman cries muffled by the rain. They had made a horrible ruckus throughout the night, sending chills up Alan's spine as he tried to sleep in his new room. They must be nocturnal, he guessed. Or, at least, averse to sunlight.
The hotel was entirely theirs, shared with a number of other survivors. There was safety in numbers, as well as a greater sense of not being alone. The room Alan had chosen for himself was completely at random - it had been empty, but a pair of suitcases indicated that it had been occupied before the virus struck. Without much else to do in the evening, except lay in the dark and listen to roar of monsters, Alan had gone through the suitcases, playing Sherlock Holmes, trying to deduce what sort of person had owned them. They were packed with men's clothes, and to his surprise, they were exactly his size. Talk about luck! He'd been wearing the same clothes for the last couple of days... they were dirty, sweaty and soiled with his own urine. After a shower, he had soaked his filthy clothes in the bathtub to wash out later.
Alan guessed the owner of the suitcase had been a businessman, though were were enough casual clothes to suggest he was going to be visiting Detroit for a long time. There were toiletries, a pair of casual shoes (also his size!), but one thing he couldn't find but had wished were there, was drugs. Alan's stash was very low now, and he was feeling anxious. He'd run out by tomorrow. Finding a new supply was currently his top priority, above food.
Wandering the halls, Alan wondered where would be the most likely place drugs could be immediately found. To a casual observer, Alan looked nervous, his reddened eyes darting around as were his thoughts. He could feel his skin on his arms and chest crawling, and he scratched those places, unconsciously. Somebody in this goddamn hotel must've been a junkie, but where would he start?