Well that made sense. That was how he dealt with life in the FAYZ. Either he worked, or he drank himself stupid. And he couldn't drink here. There wasn't any booze as far as he could tell.
"Which ones?" If Orc knew which ones could help him he wouldn't try to kill them right off.
...that thought felt heavy. Heavier then the weight on his shoulders that he always carried with him. Could he...would he kill again? He who had already wanted to die?
The sun beat down on him and every step felt like the sand was trying to hold onto his heavy gravel coated feet.
Not yet, at night he'll find the TV screens showing Howard.
"Which ones?" If Orc knew which ones could help him he wouldn't try to kill them right off.
...that thought felt heavy. Heavier then the weight on his shoulders that he always carried with him. Could he...would he kill again? He who had already wanted to die?
The sun beat down on him and every step felt like the sand was trying to hold onto his heavy gravel coated feet.