Ok, here is the first episode. It's written like a tv script basically. Also to make sure no one is confused, there are time skips during some of the scenes.
Anyway, enjoy! Please let me know what you think!
Episode 1: Pilot
Scene 1
THE SCENE OPENS IN A SMALL BATHROOM. BEFORE THE EVENTS OF THE APOCOLAYSE.
His eyes were dulled and tired. He leaned in closer to the fogged screened mirror. He wiped mist away to reveal an exhausted face. Messy umber brown hair, a white tee and blue and white checker boxer shorts.
Marcus:”God I’m fucking old.” Marcus groaned.
The morning was slowly tearing its way through the bathroom window. He rubbed his stubble face and opened the cupboard. It was full of what you would expect, toothbrushes, shaving foam, toothpaste and every other utility a man would use in the bathroom. He reached in, tiredly, and began to apply the foam to the left of his face, slapping it on, lazy like.
Marcus:“Time to look pretty.” He said jokingly, but without a smile. But before he could even begin to shave, a quick, three paced knock went at the bathroom door.
Lauren:“Dad I need to pee!” A young girl’s voice called from behind the door.
Marcus:“Yeah, and I need to pay the rent. So do it like I do and wait until some ass comes knocking on your door.”
Lauren: “But I really need to go!” The girl said, sounding if she was going to burst. He let out a huff of despair, knowing he had to give in to his daughter.
Marcus: “Fine, but you’re paying the rent from now on.” He opened the door, but before he could even look down to see his daughter, she ran past him in a flash and jumped on to the toilet. She looked up to him.
Lauren: “Um, some privacy please?” The little girl said.
Marcus: “Oh you get privacy and I don’t?”
Lauren: “Dad!”
Marcus: “Fine, fine fine”. He said, waving his hands in the air as he walked out of the bathroom. “And hurry up in there, we need to have some breakfast and get ready for our picture today”.
Lauren: “Ok!”
He smiled as he walked towards the kitchen. The apartment was small, not very clean, but so long as he could keep a roof for his daughter he didn’t mind the smell. The red carpet was dirty, stains from spilled drinks, plates that had been dropped when the two were watching a scary film together. Marcus came into the centre of the kitchen where a reasonable sized table, and two chairs held their stance. He looked over the kitchen table, it was dented, marked by cups where coasters should have been used, and leaning off the edge of the table was a thick of paper.
Marcus: “Shit.” He picked up the thick of paper, flicking through each page in a flash, following to lay them out on the table. Marcus remembered he had to mark his student’s latest tests, they were due two days from now.
Marcus: “Bah, two days is nothing”. Marcus went to grab a bowl and a plate for breakfast. He took two slices of bread and shoved them into the toaster, dialled for three minutes. The toilet flushed.
Marcus poured himself a bowl of corn flakes, filling it after with semi-skinned milk. He sat down by the table and began to eat his cereal. The bathroom door came open, and out came Lauren.
Lauren: “Oh man… I wanted cereal”. She said, walking into the kitchen.
Marcus: “Too bad, looks like you’re having toast”. Marcus said, looking more intently through his student’s tests.
Lauren: “I don’t want toast… Toast sucks ass”
Marcus: “Well now you and the toast have something in common” He said, continuing happily with his cereal.
Lauren: “Ha, ha”. Lauren said, waiting for toast. She sat down, looking around the room, tapping her fingers on the table. “So why are we getting a picture again?”
Marcus stopped reading through the test papers.
Marcus: “It’s good to have memories Lauren, remind me what a little shit you are.”
Lauren: “Are you ever gunna speak ‘politely’ around me? I’m eleven for Christ sake.”
Marcus: “Hey, don’t use the Lord’s name in vein” She shook her head, but she didn’t care that much, she was used to language. He looked up from his cereal to speak his daughter more intently.
Marcus: “So how you feeling about next week? You nervous?”
Lauren: “For eighth-grade? Kinda, I dunno, not as much as seventh-grade that’s for sure”
Marcus: “Well I’m sure it will be fine, and if you get into any trouble come and find me, you know where my room is”
Lauren: “Oh yeah, nothing is cooler than coming to see the history teacher for advice” She said rolling her eyes.
Marcus: “I’m just say-“The toast popped up. Lauren stood from her chair, taking her plate and grabbing the two slices of toast for which she despised. She looked around the kitchen, and then let out a moan.
Lauren: “Where’s the butter dad?”
Marcus: “The fuck would I know?”
Scene 2
THE SCENE CONTINUES FROM SCENE 1. MARCUS AND LAUREN ARE IN A STORE, WAITING TO GET THERE PHOTO.
The line was rather small in the store. Not many family’s came to get their picture taken as much as they used to. Marcus rubbed his clean shaven face and fiddled with his shirt, making sure it was neat and tucked in.
Photographer:“Next please.” The man from the counter called.
Marcus: “You ready?” Marcus said to his daughter.
Lauren:“Yeah I’m good, do I look ok?” Lauren said, clearly concerned with the dress she wore.
Marcus: “You look great, now come on let’s get this over with so we can buy some butter” The two moved through the back of shop, in there stood a green screen, a fat little man hurrying around with a tripod.
Photographer: “Oh just, just wait one moment please sir! It will be ready within a flash…”The man turned.
Photographer: “No pun intended” The fat man laughed to himself as he returned back to fixing the camera.
Marcus looked down to Lauren.
Marcus: “Jesus fucking Christ” He shook his head and walked towards the man with a smirking Lauren. The man was muttering to himself as they came closer.
Photographer: “To the left… bit to the right, ahh yes! Marvellous! You two, stand by the screen”. Marcus and Lauren walked on over, standing in front of the green screen, staring into the camera.
Photographer: “3...2...1… Smile!” The two father and daughter let out a happy smile, a content one, showing that with what life they had, they were grateful, glad to have each other.
Scene 3
THIS SCENE HIS DURING THE APOCOLAYSE, DURING THE EVENTS OF THE ROAD.
A drop of rain fell on to the picture, dripping from the top, finding its way down the picture of his daughter and himself. A monstrous rainstorm had started in the bleak and greyish night. Marcus rubbed his bushed beard as he looked into the picture, but his look was distracted by another noise. The sound of a slow moving convoy was coming from outside the abandoned house he was in. He peered out the cracked window near him, seeing faintly in the night, two trucks, one of their headlights were broken from what Marcus could see. Marcus cursed under his breath, he rushed his hands under his jacket and reached for his snub-revolver. Looking at the only door which would lead straight out to the incoming convoy, he saw that he would only have one option if they came through. Marcus placed the revolver at his temple. His hands started to shake as he let out a tear, staring into the old fading picture of his past. A world forgotten and taken by the one he lived in now. He was alone.
OPENING CREDITS
Scene 4
THIS SCENE IS WEEK AND HALF FURTHER THAN SCENE 3, IT OPENS TO AN EMPTY INTERROGATION ROOM, NOT ONE YOU WOULD FIND IN A POLICE STATION, BUT A HOMEMADE ONE IT WOULD SEEM. A WELL WORE TABLE STOOD IN THE MIDDLE, ON EITHER SIDE, UNDERNEATH THE LEGS WERE TWO CHAIRS, ONES YOU WOULD NORMALLY FIND UNDER THE DESK OF STUDENT AT SCHOOL. FROM OUTSIDE THE ROOM, THE SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS COME TOWARDS THE DOOR.
The door opened, bashing against the grey toned wall.
Daniel:”Sit these fuckers down here.” His voice echoed of a Columbian drug lord, he certainly looked the part. He head was shaven still, and he wore a ragged white tanned jacket. As Daniel moved into the room, three men with an empty brown sack on their heads came tumbling in, each of their hands bonded. Behind them was another man pointed a rifle into their backs, he was black skinned and had a notable scan on his right eye.
Daniel:”No not there, there. On their knees.” The three men were pushed to the floor, it was clear they had suffered some sort of wounds as the one in the middle groaned as he was forced to the floor.
Daniel:”Leave us.” Daniel didn’t look at his soldier, he only gave contact to his captives.
Once his soldier had left, he knelt down to the middle man. He wretched off the brown sack, throwing it to the side. He revealed an oldish man, he looked to be in his forties, a strong surviving man, battle tested. His eye were brown as was his hair and bushed beard, and he had a bruise on his forehead.
Marcus:”Where am I?” Marcus said, as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room. Daniel chuckled.
Daniel:”No no no, that is not how it works. I, ask you, the questions.”
Marcus:”Where is she?” Daniel stood from his knees, he rubbed scarred face as he turned, looking down to his boots, sighing.
Marcus:”Where is she!” Marcus was answered by a kick to the gut. He coughed as his face fell to the floor. The two men beside him shook in fear.
Daniel:”I told you not to ask didn’t I? Was I not clear enough?... Apparently not” Daniel seemed to enjoy this environment, being aggressive, frightening other men. He had a wicked smile.
Daniel:”Marcus, why were you taking a little girl with these men? Hmm? These two, these fuckers right here”
Marcus:”How do you know my nam -“Daniel grabbed Marcus’s jaw.
Daniel:”Why? Hmm? I only ask, cause I know what people are at their fucking camp, but I don’t know you. You might be a wounded man, struggling through life with your daughter, or one of their new recruits trying to earn their keep.” Marcus looked confused by his words as his jaw was let go.
Marcus:”Earn my keep? Why would they want her?” Marcus nodded his head side to side, he had suffered a blow to the head, the pain was still raw. Daniel crouched again, and looked to him. The smile was wiped from his face, but a more villainous yet calm look appeared on to his face.
Daniel:”You have no idea who these people are, do you?” Daniel stood, and pulled a pistol from his back. He cocked the gun. “These men… are monsters”.
He fired. The man left of Marcus fell to floor as blood began to flow out the top of the sack. Marcus’s brain rattled and he could not hear a word, only a high pitch noise and the sound of someone screaming beside him.
As Marcus began to regain his hearing, Daniel knelt down once again, looking into Marcus’s eyes.
Daniel:”They… were brothers. But you already knew that right? See I’m not sure how much you already know. So. We, will start from the beginning, shall we?” Marcus nodded ever so slowly, his eyes were wider than before, a shiver went down his back.
Daniel:”How long have you been travelling with that girl Marcus?” Marcus was a bit reluctant to answer, but Daniels ways were persuasive.
Marcus:”Just over a week… I found her after her Dad died.” Marcus looked down to the floor.
Daniel:”And before that?” Marcus looked to the side, the fresh corpse with a bag still on its head, blood still dripping way, the puddle making its way to Marcus.
Marcus: “I was alone.”
Scene 5
THE SCENE CONTINUES RIGHT WHERE SCENE 3 ENDED.
The rain poured hard in the night, followed by thunder. The trucks were moving slowly through the muddy street, they were most likely looking for food, which meant people. Marcus held the revolver closer to his temple, his hands shook more as the tears fell down his cheeks.
But as the rain went on, the two trucks, one with a broken headlight leading, moved on, as they could not hear Marcus tremble. They drove past the house and went on, continuing north.
He threw the revolver across the room, picking up dust against the floorboards. Marcus rubbed the tears with the back of his hand, the old photo still in in his hands.
Marcus:”Fuck…” He looked out the window once more, the rain pattering against the glass and the mud outside. He felt a rumble in his stomach, his last meal was two nights before. A can of tomatoes was what he ate that night, but since then, nothing. No meal for breakfast, lunch or dinner.
Marcus:”Guess I’m here tonight” Marcus said as he began to stand, his left knee clicked as he went up. He glanced around the room once more. He had been following the tracks of someone he found last night, that’s where he got the can of tomatoes, it was unfinished, but fresh. Someone had left the can there for a reason, everyone was hungry now, and no one would leave a good, filling meal like that alone. The house he was in was one story with a few rooms. Marcus stood in the living room, an abandoned, forgotten family hold. Dust swept across the wooden floor, a broken table by a red sofa, two of the cushions were missing for some reason. On the once white vibrant walls was a painting. The portrait showed a bold lion caring a baby gazelle in the dark of the woods.
Marcus went over to the other side of the room, he picked the revolver up and opened the six-rounded chamber. But only four bullets were in the chamber. He closed the chamber and went over to the sofa. Two of those bullets had been used on people, he often dreamed about those two shootings, Marcus was never a fan of those dreams, but he was used to seeing them, those faces. He would most likely see them tonight.
Scene 6
THIS SCENE RETURNS TO THE TIME OF SCENE 5.
Daniel:”Why were you tracking this person? Hmm?” By this time, Marcus and Daniel were seated, the blood was beginning to dry where the corpse was and the other man had been taken out of the room.
Marcus:”There’s a… better chance in, survival. Strength in numbers… From the looks of this place, you probably already know that.” His hands were still binded. They were resting on the table and they were sore.
Daniel:”Yes, number do help… But!” Daniel raised his fingers in a quickened paced, pointing at Marcus.
Daniel:”Numbers do not make you the good guys, do they?” He grinned wickedly again.
Marcus:”I’m guessing you’re not the good guys then?” Daniel looked to the blood, drying away on the floor.
Daniel:”Each group you met always has a bad bean you know? But doesn’t mean the whole can is tainted.” He leaned in closer, his hands were gripping the edge of the table as if he throw it up in the air at any moment.
Daniel:”Those men you were travelling with… They are not the good guys, not a single soul.” His voice was intent.
Marcus started to question himself. Why was he captured? How did Daniel know this group of people? Why were they bad? Too many questions and no answers he thought.
Marcus:”They seemed alright to m-“
Daniel:”You Marcus, were deceived. Lied to. So… How about we continue your adventure hey? ... What happened after the stormy night?”
Marcus rubbed his beard with his binded hands, and then touched the bruise on his head.
Scene 7
THE SCENE CONTINUES AFTER THE NIGHT WHERE MARCUS SLEPT IN SCENE 5.
Marcus woke with a jump. Another shock from a dream he has had before. He dreamed that he was eating someone, a fear that always came to trouble him. Cannibalism was a common thing now and Marcus worried he would end up like the others who had fallen to it.
He had slept on the sofa that night, using the cushion that was left as a pillow. He rubbed his tired eyes and felt yet another yearning in his stomach. Hunger.
I’ll need something soon, I don’t want to get desperate. He thought.
Marcus packed up his things and strung his large rucksack over his shoulder. He pushed open the stiff door creaking door and went outside. The morning was grey as usual. In the old world the morning sun would force you to cover eyes from the brightness, but in the new world, each morning is the same. Grey skies, smoked and dawned. The other houses were just as empty as the one Marcus had slept in. The street was littered with wrecked cars, cracks and holes and the past. From what he guessed from the tracks, he discovered Marcus decided to continue going south. Hoping he would find the person.
Scene 8
THE SCENE CUTS TO MARCUS WALKING DOWN THE STREET FROM THE HOUSE HE SLEPT IN. THE DAY IS MORN, YET GREY.
The two trucks had left tracks in the mud going north. Marcus stayed on the path rather than the road going south, it was glazed over with wet mud. One step in there you lose a pair of socks. The deep mud would seep into the socks and ruin them, making the long walks unbearable, especially if you’ve got cuts down by your ankles. Socks are worth more than a meal at times, a handy tip he discovered himself. Marcus continued to walk down the street, passing each ruin of a house, local shop, parks, but he stopped. Something had caught his eye from the distance in the mud. He didn’t have the best of eyes, so he couldn’t quite make out what he saw. He squinted, but it didn’t help.
He pulled the revolver from his back, slung down by his right side, cautiously walking on the path, but getting closer to what caught his sight. Something was moving in the mud, crawling like a slug.
Its colour was rotten like an onion left open and cut for weeks, covered in the dark mud. Most likely been there the whole night.
Marcus rubbed the back of his head, he was growing more nervous as came closer as he could begin to see what it was.
He could see hands, arms and a head, pulling itself along in the mud. It was a person. Marcus raised his gun, he stopped on the path, aiming at the creature. It raised its head, its eyes were pale blue, looking at Marcus. It could not speak. It was pale. It was weak, and it was sad. Marcus knew exactly what it was and why it was like the way it was.
Marcus stepped closer, standing on the edge of the path, but not in the mud. He crouched down, staring into the eyes of creature that crawled closer. Its legs were severed below the knee, but they were patched up rather well. Horrifyingly well Marcus thought.
He lowered his gun.
Marcus:”I’m sorry they did this to you”
The creature stopped crawling. It instead, looked at Marcus. The creature was sad, but no tears fell from his eyes. The eyes told Marcus his story.
The creature was probably like Marcus once, a man on his own, surviving on what he could find, but one day someone caught him. Probably those people in the trucks, found the man and took him. Cutting him up on the way to their home and eating him. The man turned creature through the week, probably fell off the truck during the night.
Marcus grabbed his jaw ever so slightly, he wanted to see what pain was placed on to him. With his left hand he opened the weak creature’s mouth.
The creature’s mouth was vile, there was no tongue, the teeth were rotten, and dry blood covered his gums.
Marcus:”They took it so you wouldn’t scream no more?” Marcus let go of the creatures jaw.
It nodded in response.
He looked at the creature, sorrow started to fill Marcus.
Marcus:”Were you on your own when they took you?”
The creature shook its head. Marcus rubbed the back of his head in distress, thinking of how many people have gone through the same trouble.
Marcus:”Your family still on the trucks?”
The creature nodded with its gloomy eyes.
Marcus held the creature’s hand, embracing him. It was weak, Marcus could feel the thin bones in the creature’s palm.
Marcus:”We all lose someone…All of us”
The creature smiled at Marcus, he sealed his mouth to not show his scars, but he looked happy, for a moment, right there the man felt compassion with this stranger with the gun. Then his eyes looked to the gun.
Marcus’s eyes met with the creatures.
Marcus:”I can’t”
Marcus let go of the creature’s hand. It turned sad once more.
Marcus:”I need the bullets…I’m sorry” Marcus turned even more sympathetic for the creature, the poor thing wanted it to be over, but Marcus knew that each bullet he had would mean he would live a little longer.
The creature open it’s open and tried to speak, saying what words he could attempt to piece together.
Creature:”Plea-…..Plea….”
Marcus:”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” He put the revolver under the back of his jacket, tucked into his pants.
The creature reached for the weapon.
Marcus:”I need them” Marcus stood, he walked back a few paces from the creature. It did not like that. It turned sour. The creature pulled itself from the road and onto the path, trying to grab Marcus’s feet.
The creature opened its mouth and tried to scream, but all that would come out was a person with a throat that had been cut and clawed.
Marcus began to grow fearful of the creature, he jumped back from it, starting to walk away, but still looking at the creature, crawling towards him
He couldn’t look at the poor thing anymore, he turned around and continued to walk south as he did before.
It continued to scream and crawl, but Marcus had his legs. He walked away, leaving the man.
Marcus:”I’m sorry” He said rubbing his eyes, regret filling his veins.
As Marcus walked off, well away from the half man, the creature laid on the path next to the street. From its pocket in the trousers, he pulled out something.
A picture. A young man, embracing his wife and little girl. The creature gazed into the picture and let a single tear fall down his pale cheek.
SCENE 9
10 MINUTES AFTER SCENE 8. MARCUS WAS STILL WALKING DOWN THE STREET, BUT WELL AWAY FROM THE CREATURE.
The street was rather the same as the other one. Tattered and rumbling communities, faded memories now washed away by ash. Though among the ash, things remained. Pictures of loved ones, toys that were played with, hours upon hours, playgrounds where parents took their kids to go on a grand adventure, to teach them to ride a bike. Memories.
But Marcus tried to avoid those things, he reminded him too much of pain. He instead, like most others remaining in this world, looked for supplies. Socks, rope, sheets, but mainly food. Water he was ok on, he knew how to purify a water source if he found one. A few bottles of water were in his pack.
Even the rumble in his stomach was still lurching, the pain couldn’t be compared to what he did to that man. Left him for dead. Marcus closed his eyes and could still see him. He rubbed his beard in nervous distress, thinking about what he did. He looked back from the road he was walking on.
Should he continue on finding this man he was tracking? Or give a final mercy to a stranger?
Marcus opened the chamber of his gun. Four bullets left… Should he have three now?
He closed the chamber. He made his decision. He began to walk back north, back where he found him.
SCENE 10
SCENE CONTINUES AFTER SCENE 9, MARCUS WALKING BACK.
On the path Marcus walked, his eyes observing the muddy road, looking for a half man crawling.
He found his way back, to where he had found the man before, but he was not there. However there were tracks of a crawling man.
Marcus stepped in the mud, following the tracks through the road, west in the street. His revolver was drawn in case something would happen.
The tracks led him around the street corner. Marcus found him soon enough.
The man was laid back against a dried up fountain, where wishes used to be made. He looked dead, but any person who was carved for food would look the same.
Marcus ran towards him in a hurry, he kneeled down next to the halfman. His eyes began to open.
The man smiled at Marcus.
Marcus smiled back. The first time he had smiled for a long time. He held up the revolver to the man’s forehead. The man held on to a picture, his eyes were in gazed on the portrait, but then he looked to Marcus, trying to say some words.
Man:”Than… You…”
Marcus:”You’re welcome”
He fired.
The man was at peace, no more pain would be weighing him down.
Marcus looked at the man, what he was. He hoped he would not have to go through what he did. But wished someone would give him a bullet if he ended up like that.
Before he would stand, Marcus looked at the man’s hand. He hand something gripped tight with his thin bones. Marcus easily opened the grip and a picture fell out. He picked it up and saw a family.
He smiled again. Marcus placed the photo in his inner jacket pocket, next to his own photo of him and his daughter. He nodded to the peaceful man and walked off, back on his route, trying to find the man he was tracking. But his stomach was emptier than before.
SCENE 11
THE SCENE TAKES PLACE BACK WITH HIS CONVERSATION WITH DANIEL.
Daniel:”Why would you want to waste a bullet on a dead man? Hmm? To ease the fucker’s pain or something?” Marcus remained quiet about it.
Daniel pulled out his gun again, he pulled out the clip and emptied the cartridge on the table. The bullets scattered and rolled along the surface, six of them. Daniel picked one up.
Daniel:”Do you know, how valuable these are? Hmm? … I’m sure you do Marcus, these, these things are the reason why we are talking in a nice secure place. If someone tries to take our home, what do we do in response with what with we have?” Daniel looked at the bullet he had in his fingertips, and then to Marcus.
He motioned the bullet towards his temple, and with his other hand, placed on the other side of his temple, he animated brain and blood coming out.
He laughed, clearly enjoying his own words.
Daniel:”Would you load this up for me? “Daniel gave Marcus the cartridge.
As Marcus began to pick up the bullets from the table, Daniel continued to talk.
Daniel:”So what happened then?”
Marcus:”What’d you mean?” He said, loading the second bullet.
Daniel:”We have your gun Marcus… You have two bullets left. Did you miss or something?”
Marcus was about to speak a word, but he wasn’t sure how he could say it. He could tell him about the fourth bullet, but the third one?
Marcus:”I found the person I was tracking.”
SCENE 12
A FEW GOOD HOURS OF WALKING SOUTH, MARCUS WAS NEARING A CITYSCAPE. HE WASN’T EVEN SURE IF THE PERSON HE WAS TRACKING WAS THIS WAY, HE WAS STARTING TO LOSE FAITH WITH IT. MAYBE HE SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE BACK TO THE HALFMAN.
The sky was still grey, as it always was. Didn’t matter if it was morning or the night, grey was the constant.
I need to eat soon… Marcus anxiously thought. He would never eat someone, but he was desperate. He needed regular food, he’d be fine with dog food if he found that, he’s eaten it before.
As he walked through the city, where skyscrapers and abandoned cars littered the place, Marcus looked for anything that would have any socks. The ones he had were dripping with mud. As Marcus hiked through whatever city he was in, he admired the structures he saw. Old corporate businesses that traded stocks, clothing, minerals. It was still odd for Marcus to see these buildings but a ruin of what they were. But his focus was on socks for the moment.
The wind brushed through the open air, ricocheting off the broken windows from the cars. He would need to find this person, or food soon.
Fortunately he found a two story clothing shop as he walked down the city street. Rogers Clothing. The sign read, Very creative name. Marcus joked to himself. This part of the city was very open, cracks in the road and pavement, a few cars that looked broken beyond repair, and a pickup truck that looked like it could work if someone had a real good go at it. But Marcus wasn’t that person, he was a history teacher not a mechanic.
Marcus went inside the clothing shop. It was boarded up at the windows, first and second floor, though there were some gaps between the rotting boards, easily breakable. A bullet would tear through that like a hot knife through butter. Not much was left in the store as you could expect, most of the socks and sheets had been taken. Coats and jackets were stripped away, even the coat hangers were near to gone. He spent 10 minutes rummaging before he found a pair under the counter. The shop was rather small, a local business stuck in the city. He laid back on the counter, taking of his muddy shoes and socks. Lucky for him there was a mirror along the bottom right side of the wall, where you could see how your shoes looked on you. Marcus swapped out his mudded socks for a fresh pair.
As he put on the right sock, something caught his eye in the store. Under a clothes rack he saw a strap of a grey rifle. But before he would go over to reach it, he heard a noise from outside. What was that? He thought.
Marcus quickly put on his new socks and his old boots and looked out the window through the boards.
Outside was a man looking in front of the pickup truck. He was on his own with a large bag on his back, but what caught Marcus’s eye most was what was in his hand. An open can of tomatoes. The man looked rather odd, not a nice man at all, he sucked the tomato juice from his fingers. He was distracted, trying to fix the vehicle from the looks of it.
Marcus knew that not many people at all would share a can of food with a stranger, he knew that for certain. He knew that if he wanted to survive, he would have to do things he wouldn’t want to do, but had to do.
Jesus Christ…He thought.
Through one of the larger gaps of the boarded windows, Marcus pulled the revolver from his back, and aimed out the window. Marcus started to shake, he could already feel a tear beginning to come out. He pulled back the hammer and fired with a relentless flinch.
The can of tomatoes fell to the floor, along with the man. A bullet to head.
Marcus looked down at his gun, opening the chamber again to see the two he had left. But before he closed it up again he heard a shriek. One of a little girl.
Girl:”Daddy!” A little girl came out of another store from the other side of the street, she ran over to the dead man.
Girl:”No…. No! No! No!” She rested her head on his chest, weeping into his jacket.
Marcus leaned behind the wall of the shop he was in, he wept just like the girl. He looked at his gun, thinking now was the time he would pull the trigger to himself.
In the open space where the girl was, not too far from her, around the corner four armed men appeared. They must have heard the shot.
Marcus closed his eyes and put the gun to his head once more. He was certain this time.
Scavenger1:”There’s the little bitch… Come on!” The man shouted.
Marcus opened his eyes.
