| [ you talked me into this im going to Nd you.
the air smells like rust and blood, no matter how much silver wipes at his nose to wash away the smells. it stagnates, choking his breaths, and leaving nothing but its own putrid scent behind. it's enough to make him gag, so he slips the mask back on over his head and tries to breathe a little easier. it helps, but it's probably more of a placebo, based on how much he's inhaled to begin with.
the shelter that he and gold had managed to scrounge together isn't too far from here, and he's due to return in a short period of time. can't be too reckless, he reminds himself, when gold's leg makes him more anxious than usual. this is gold's job, he's just taking over for the time being. no wonder why the mask is so loose around his head, then.
he fixes the strap on the backpack that's falling apart, and breaks into a run before the zombies get him. two years ago he would have laughed at the possibility of nuclear fallout, but here he was, running from them to spare himself the energy.
silver pushes the door to their lodgings (silver refuses to call it home because it's not home and lyra's gone) and drops the bag of cans at his feet, kicking the door open with the back of his foot. he rips off the gas mask and throws it at gold's backside. ]
Hey. I'm back. |
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