Who: Damon and Chase When: Late morning Where: In town
In retrospect, this was probably a very, very bad idea.
The whole journey down the road into town took almost twice as long as normal as Chase found himself stopping and starting ever few minutes, listening. Every time a tree settled with a groan, or snapped dryly past the thick line of barren foliage on either side of the road, images of pyramid heads and phantom babies danced in his head. This wasn't Silent Hill. There was no ash falling, no sirens calling. He was fine. He would be fine.
God, please don't let there be phantom babies, he thought when the sign welcoming him to Mount Zenith finally appeared. It had been a while since he'd made the comparison to the fictional video game town, and if there was any day to do it, it was definitely now. At least he'd come armed, or as close as he could manage. His hammer had occupied its normal space on his belt for all of three minutes, and he'd been gripping it in his right hand ever since. His flashlight was in his left, not on, but handy. His empty gym bag was slung over his shoulder. He was dressed in jeans, his sturdy boots, and layers up top with a t-shirt, hoodie, and jacket to fight the damp chill. He had his watch, an extra pair of batteries, and leather work gloves he'd gotten from the hardware store back when they'd all worked to repair the house. What he really wanted was a shotgun, or hell, another person there.
At least there won't be any bubble head nurses. Just stay away from the hospital. He nodded once to himself, as if that were some sort of grand survival plan that would actually help. He didn't need to go to the hospital in the first place, but upon spotting his target ahead of him, he wondered if maybe this plan wasn't actually worse. The nurses mostly hung out in the basement of the hospital anyway, right? He stopped in front of the sidewalk heading toward the first house on the lane, hearing the sound of cameras focusing in on him. He wondered if even they couldn't really much.
His thumb nervously clicked against the on switch of the flashlight, not terribly surprised at how bright the light seemed against the concrete. With all the fog it was surprisingly dark, and it only made him wonder just how bad it would be inside. Only one way to find out.
He'd been in this house only a few days earlier when Oliver had taken the group around to inspect. It was still in bad condition, but not nearly so horrible as many of the other residential structures in town. Most importantly, a section of its cupboards were in surprisingly good condition. He imagined it was a matter of time before someone decided to try and use them to replace the ones in the main house's kitchen, but they didn't need them all. The interior of the house was indeed dark, though he could see relatively well without the help of the flashlight. He still used it, just in in case, and made a point to leave the door open in the event that he needed to make a quick escape.
No phantom babies, he reminded himself before realizing he'd actually whispered that out loud, more like wishful thinking than an actual fact. The ruined floorboards groaned under him, and he nearly sighed with relief once he made it to his destination. He was under no delusion that the floor here was any better, but it felt sturdier, and he strode to the cupboards with purpose. As he'd recalled, the whole section between the sink and the window, four cupboards and the cabinets they rested on, were in fairly usable condition. Opening the first, he let it swing back and forth a bit, feeling the top hinge close to giving, but the wood itself remained firm. It was thick though, perhaps a little too thick for what he wanted, even if he sanded it down, and reached in to judge the condition of one of the interior shelves. It was dusty, and had splotches of something unrecognizable, but it looked like he could sand that off. The section gave slightly when he tugged, but then caught, and he sighed before resting the flashlight on the counter so he could pull himself up and onto his knees to peer inside. Gathering the flashlight up again, he saw that he'd pulled the layer of wood out enough to get the claw on the back of the hammer inside and perhaps nudge it out that way, but he had a feeling the cabinet door was going to be in the way if he tried. With that in mind, he began to use the hammer to break the hinges off as neatly as he could, not wanting to ruin the wood in case someone ended up wanting to use it.