Count to Ten
Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2018 8:40 am
She’d come up with a whole lot of nothing.
((Frankie Matsui continued from Shit’s Fucked))
Maybe it was for the better that Frankie hadn’t run into anyone since seeing Charity on the beach. She’d come close countless times since then, hearing conversation or scuffling or gunfire in the distance. It was a good thing that Frankie was already good at going about unnoticed, and she managed to trek across the village unscathed.
When nightfall came, Frankie found herself in the type of neighborhood she wouldn’t normally get a chance to even step foot in. The houses were a lot bigger and nicer than her home back in Denver, a couple blocks from the diner. There were also huge windows and open floor plans, ones that Frankie couldn’t even hope to find cover in. If she was looking for a safe place to sleep, it wasn’t here.
But hell, Frankie was going to be dead by the end of the week anyway, if not the next day, or hour. She could afford to live a little vicariously.
Thankfully, nobody was in the house, alive or dead. Frankie made her way to the top floor, hoping to minimize the amount of places she could get ambushed from. Best to sleep with her back against the wall, so to speak.
She walked into what looked like the master bedroom, with a fluffy-looking queen sized bed flanked by ornate-looking nightstands and lamps. On the other end of the room was a half-open door, and Frankie caught a glimpse of a large bathtub between the crack. Perpendicular to the bed was a wide window, and outside she could see the picturesque backyard, white-picket fence, and the houses beyond.
Frankie shut the curtains. It was better if nobody saw her.
((Frankie Matsui continued from Shit’s Fucked))
Maybe it was for the better that Frankie hadn’t run into anyone since seeing Charity on the beach. She’d come close countless times since then, hearing conversation or scuffling or gunfire in the distance. It was a good thing that Frankie was already good at going about unnoticed, and she managed to trek across the village unscathed.
When nightfall came, Frankie found herself in the type of neighborhood she wouldn’t normally get a chance to even step foot in. The houses were a lot bigger and nicer than her home back in Denver, a couple blocks from the diner. There were also huge windows and open floor plans, ones that Frankie couldn’t even hope to find cover in. If she was looking for a safe place to sleep, it wasn’t here.
But hell, Frankie was going to be dead by the end of the week anyway, if not the next day, or hour. She could afford to live a little vicariously.
Thankfully, nobody was in the house, alive or dead. Frankie made her way to the top floor, hoping to minimize the amount of places she could get ambushed from. Best to sleep with her back against the wall, so to speak.
She walked into what looked like the master bedroom, with a fluffy-looking queen sized bed flanked by ornate-looking nightstands and lamps. On the other end of the room was a half-open door, and Frankie caught a glimpse of a large bathtub between the crack. Perpendicular to the bed was a wide window, and outside she could see the picturesque backyard, white-picket fence, and the houses beyond.
Frankie shut the curtains. It was better if nobody saw her.