Family Matters || Jeremiah Jun 14, 2013 12:56:52 GMT -4
Post by Ezekial "Xander" Davenport on Jun 14, 2013 12:56:52 GMT -4
Gah! Every building in this city stunk of death. So far, Xan had yet to find a single one that even remotely smelled close to what a normal building should have smelled like and he would know, they had been scouting through the damn things all day. This one though, this one took the cake. The hospital undoubtedly the sight of the most dead bodies when this whole thing started. People rushing here in hope that the doctors could save or fix their loved ones, or whatever.
Had they really thought that some person in a white lab coat with a stethoscope wrapped around their neck was going to be able to cure the whole walking dead phenomena? Oh yeah, doctor could you take a look at my husband? He has no pulse and he is drooling all over the place. Not to mention he is starting to stink. The thought of it drawing a scoff from his lips as he rolled his eyes and reached up to grab hold of one of the stretchers that had been tossed atop a pile of others in what he guessed was some attempt at keeping the dead out, or in. Who the hell knew anymore?
Whatever the reason for it, there now stood a pretty solid roadblock in the middle of one of the main corridors of the hospital. Here and there, you could see streaks of dried up blood from God knows what trying to get over the pile, and he was fairly certain he was not the first to try and scale this metallic mountain. If anything, this was just one giant colossal waste of time. If there had been any medical supplies to be taken, it was almost certain they had been wiped out long ago. The old building likely picked clean like some animal carcass left for the buzzards.
So why was he here again? Oh yeah, right, Jeremiah thought it was a good idea. A few words of not so silent protest muttered under his breath as he heaved his way up the pile and through the narrow opening that had been carved out long ago. A few grunts and grumbles passing through thinly parted lips as he wormed his way through the narrow opening, managing to get about three quarters of the way through before a very distinct *RIIIIIIP* sounded out from the vicinity of his leg. "Fuck!" Shifting to try and get a look at his pants leg that he knew had just gotten ripped on something, a jagged shred of metal no doubt. Yet in the process, he felt something beneath him give way. A bit of the metal he had been perched atop of, or through, or whatever finally breaking under a combination of his weight and years of neglect.
He had about half a second to register this in his mind before *CRASH CRASH BOOM* his happy ass was planted on the grimy, dirty floor, face first. Cheek mushed up against the broken and filthy tiles, he laid there for a minute, grumbling a few incoherent curses that could only be deciphered as being directed toward his brother due to the other man's name coming forth every other word. Sure, send him in to do this. He was the runt. (Only an inch shorter but still.) He was the nimble one. He was the ....Fuck off. A growl given as he pushed his hands into the ground, hoisting himself up to try and wiggle his way free of the pieces of broken stretcher which had fallen with him. The whole thing creating quite the noise as metal clanged against ceramic tile.
Like he fucking cared. If Jeremiah wanted grace, he should have been the one to volunteer to crawl his happy ass through there. What the fuck did Jeremiah think he was? A fucking graceful and delicate butterfly or some shit? "Asshole." Rising to his feet as he looked down to his torn pant leg, once more silently cursing his brother as he attempted to dust himself off, all the while waiting for his brother's voice to start echoing out behind him.
There was no denying that he had heard that racket from wherever he was in the hospital, and just like always, he would come running, ready to chew on Xan's ass for not being quite or stealthy or whatever else he could think of. It was sorta like a game, "What did Xan fuck up this time!?"...A game that Xander was very much getting tired of playing. Sure, deep down he knew his brother's heart was in the right place, and hell, he even looked up to him...but like hell he was going to actually admit that. Yeah, no..he would rather chew off his own right foot.