#riskevent

Layla’s back hit the shelf that had anything breakable, expect most of it was broken. And then there were the bits that stabbed itself into her back and into the hands and arms of the walker that had its hands on her. And this wasn’t an ordinary walker either. It was stronger, and faster, and specifically this one was taller than her. There was a hand on it’s neck, and the other was digging her knife through it’s chest. But that wasn’t going to kill it, stabbing it in the head would, but it would be almost impossible. That would mean moving her hand, and doing so could risk the chance of getting bitten, which was not on today’s agenda. Layla took every ounce of strength she had and threw it off of her, and it stumbled back and fell, but it got right back up. “Son of bitch,” she muttered and grabbed a broken piece of glass as it ran towards her.

“Fuck.” Elliot’s hands feel like they’re about to fall off. No, scratch that - he can’t feel them at all. Numb and stiff, it’s a strange feeling. He huffs into his hands, attempting to alleviate their state. “We’re really running out of supplies, aren’t we? Shit, I can barely find any blankets, let alone gloves.” These blizzards he should be used to -- Salt Lake City, home of the greatest snow in the United States, is prone to a few tonnes of snow every year, but even that doesn’t make him immune to the rising temperatures. 

When the first flurry had hit the ground, Melinda had smiled. She always liked snow. But it soon became evident that this wasn’t just a few flurry, it was turning into a full blown snow storm. She wasn’t dressed for this and she entered the first building she saw. “Wow,” she said to herself. She had not noticed the other person.