Alexander Polawski
Location: North Of Newnan (2 Temple Avenue)
DunkThe tiny glimmer of hope that had passed through Alexander's head the moment he felt the door knob turn, vanished into the spring air of Georgia like the melting snow under its slow but sure baking sun. Even for a good push at the door didn't give an inch. Just his luck. The stuck door was - for now - the only thing that stood in his way to reach the sacred coffee mugs and tea cups that his new aquintances wished for. As he stood there, he wondered if kids at his time would have done the same, or if that day's generation were just nuts. Wasn't this the end of the world, after all?
Then again, his hands probably preferred holding a cup rather than the plastic itself. Not what they got in the Army, but hey, what good had they done for him these past 40-so years?
With a loud thud and creak, the heel of the elder's boot connected with the door just beside the knob. The door budged ever so slightly, and even more with the second kick. The third did its job, forcing the door open for him enter. With the light shining in from behind him, he recongized the room to be a living room, not entirely different than what he had had back home. Even the moldy carpet was in the same style that his wife had...
Alexander shook his head, focusing on the remainder of the room. This wasn't time for memories. He saw the open door to the left, the two doors further down the hall and the tiles, but not much more due to the darkness. His axe would make short work of that at least, as he turned the blade of it around to use the back of it. You know, the pointy bit that nobody except firemen know what's called? It wasn't difficult to pull the blankets and sheets down, though without any finesse or anything salvagable. But hopefully it would be easier to search the house now; not for the blessed mugs, but for Walkers.
The open door on the left was his first destination, slowly walking forward with his axe raised, ready to chop down on anyone and anything foolish enough to fuck with the old grunt. It would be easier to search the whole house if he knew that it was safe, and so that was his first priority.
Thinking back to it, Alexander wasn't all that surprised not to find any Walkers inside the room to the left. They would probably have heard the knocking on - and knocking down of - the door quite easily, yet the room was deserted of life. The axe in his hand lowered down, he walked into the middle of the room and looked around. It looked like a second living-room, or a media-room that were
in back before shit hit the fan. A large tv mounted on the wall gave off his reflection, making his heart jump ever so slightly from the movement, but he was still alone.
A part of life he still dealt with every day.
Aside from dvd's and other disks, one of which read "Call of Duty" something-something to which he payed little interest, his eyes could hardly believe what they told Alexander clearly was there; tea cups, a pot and several other silver items. Perhaps Lady Luck was finally giving him a favourable look after all those years? He asked himself if he should just get the tea-set now and go, for it would have been easier that way surely. But easy didn't always mean good enough, especially not when the other rooms still weren't searched by him. No, the tea-set could wait for a little while. He still needed to clear the rest of the house before searching further. Who knew, perhaps he could ride shotgun on the Stuart if he brought something more?
Alexander exited the room and reentered the living room, looking just the same as he left it. The hallway on his left was still there, no surprise really, but he walked with caution down it. No place was safe until you knew for certain no hostiles were left, not before nor after. He had learned that the hard way. Walking down the hall, he stopped in front of the two doors just to listen quickly for any movement or sound behind them. Not sure if he heard anything - thank you very much old age, rock music and constant M-16 fire for all that -, he opened the door on the right.
Like the previous room, it was as empty as a burned-out Vietnamese village after the Marines had flown by. Alexander's first sight was the bed frame in the center, stripped clean of its mattress and everything else that actually made a bed noteworthy. The rest of the room appeared as empty as the frame, except from the open windows that let the light in. He thought to himself that was odd, seen as the front window was covered up when he got there. Had those that scavanged this house gone in through the window instead of the front door? It wasn't a terrible idea, really, the element of surprise.
At first the second door wasn't of interest to him, seen as it probably led further into the house and he was going through the hallway either way. But as he turned around to go back out to the hall, he stopped. Going through that door wasn't perhaps as bad an idea? At best it would just end up in the kitchen or somewhere else. At worst there was a Walker behind it, and they couldn't open doors, just bash them down. It was a plan then; not a brilliant one, but still a plan. He stepped to the door, and tried to open it while holding his axe ready.
This was just brilliant, except that Alexander wanted to get through that door. Like the front door, only the knob was actually moving as he wanted. His eyes wandered to the frame of the door, seeing what appeared to be the problem; it was stuck in the frame. Okay, what did you do if your plan went to shits? You change and adapt as best you can, but always stick to a plan.
"Fuck this, back to plan A."Alexander's new plan was to turn around and exit the room back into the hall, and proceed as before down the hall. Were there any Walkers there at all? So far he hadn't seen or heard anything, but that meant he was either lucky or just raising the risk of him encountering something worse. And so he kept walking down the hall.
Alexander couldn't see much from where he stood, except the table and chairs. Was going further on worth the risk? The whole house seemed pretty torn-apart for useful stuff already, and a kitchen was one of the first places to be looted. Lola would get her tea-set alright, so in her book he might have been okay. But Thalia wanted proper coffee-cups...spoiled kid these days. Still...
But he wasn't going to go in blind, so to speak. He backtracked to the sitting room with the silver platter, and grabbed one of the empty tin cans. Back into the hall, he looked once again into the partial darkness of the kitchen-area, still nothing of interest visible. He wasn't going in blind, that was always a stupid move. Gathering intel was a top priority and what won battles, hell it won wars, and that was what he was going to do. The tin can he had picked up, he threw as hard as he could into the darkness and waited. Any Walker still 'alive' would - hopefully - hear it and head towards it. And then he could take it out at his own terms.
Silence, like the quiet before the storm or the lack of wildlife in the jungle just before an ambush. It felt like hours passed as Alexander just listened for anything out of the ordinary, but the silence gave him some form of confirmation that nothing sturred. For now. He kept on moving forward into the kitchen. Slow and steady won the race. At least that was what Alexander hoped as he walked into the darkness of the kitchen, headed for the covered up window over the sink. He did the same as the first window, hooking the blankets with his axe and pulling them off. Hopefully this wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass later, or in the leg because some idiot didn't finish of a Walker without legs.
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