Alex tries to convince Clara over and over he wants her to sleep upstairs so he can keep an eye on the downstairs and the only point of access - because she's his wife, she butts heads right back and here they are, both in the living room. Alex turns from where he'd been peering through a crack in the boarded up windows, the rig making that whirring sound again.
He refuses to call it his new body. He does wonder if it's at least got a mute button: he can't be the only one fed up with all the damn sound it makes.
"Thanks," Alex says. He falls quiet at the mention of David. It's something he's alternated between stewing on and wishing he didn't have to worry about. It's not exactly his shining moment as a dad. "Hope they've realized we're gone. Bet you Jack's already checking up on him."
He even had the keys. They'd talked about this in the car, during those long days where they sat on their butts waiting for a contact, and naturally stuff like What if I die came up. Tying up loose ends. Watching out for loved ones. All that. If there was anyone in the world he trusted to look after his family, it was Jack. It's just...in all the scenarios Alex ran in his head, this wasn't it. He'd expected to get shot on the job, leaving Clara and David. Both of David's parents going MIA, though. Didn't see that one coming.
Alex turns back to the window, aware of Clara trying to get comfortable in her blanket nest. It'd be that kind of spontaneous level of sexy if they were in their house's living room. This one smells like mold and rot.
"I think someone's coming our way," Alex hisses with that quiet tone of voice that says he's hoping she won't panic. He watches as a shape comes out from the darkness, the fog lifting just enough to see a vaguely man-shaped shadow walking. There's something off about it, something about the arms and legs being...wrong. No sign of a weapon yet.
The shape stops by the window, where there's only a few half-rotted boards between them and it.
Gonna lead into the attack by the faceless walker
He refuses to call it his new body. He does wonder if it's at least got a mute button: he can't be the only one fed up with all the damn sound it makes.
"Thanks," Alex says. He falls quiet at the mention of David. It's something he's alternated between stewing on and wishing he didn't have to worry about. It's not exactly his shining moment as a dad. "Hope they've realized we're gone. Bet you Jack's already checking up on him."
He even had the keys. They'd talked about this in the car, during those long days where they sat on their butts waiting for a contact, and naturally stuff like What if I die came up. Tying up loose ends. Watching out for loved ones. All that. If there was anyone in the world he trusted to look after his family, it was Jack. It's just...in all the scenarios Alex ran in his head, this wasn't it. He'd expected to get shot on the job, leaving Clara and David. Both of David's parents going MIA, though. Didn't see that one coming.
Alex turns back to the window, aware of Clara trying to get comfortable in her blanket nest. It'd be that kind of spontaneous level of sexy if they were in their house's living room. This one smells like mold and rot.
"I think someone's coming our way," Alex hisses with that quiet tone of voice that says he's hoping she won't panic. He watches as a shape comes out from the darkness, the fog lifting just enough to see a vaguely man-shaped shadow walking. There's something off about it, something about the arms and legs being...wrong. No sign of a weapon yet.
The shape stops by the window, where there's only a few half-rotted boards between them and it.