Effsix

Finster continued.*

He thought of his car. Did it still run ? But then, why shouldn't it. It started right up for him. He put some clothes and a sleeping bag in the trunk along with some of the canned goods. And then, he set out for the water plant across town.

Finster saw some dogs digging though the garbage, but still no people. He stopped to check on a wino sitting in a doorway. But when he touched the man, he fell over. He too, was dead.
He was in a rather run-down part of town. As he was walking back to his car, he caught what he thought was a movement, from the corner of his eye. But when he turned for a better look, he saw nothing.
Then, he heard a faint scuffling sound, and what sounded like something falling. The sound came from an ally between two buildings. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Finster stood at the head of the ally. He could see that it ended in a small courtyard behind a rundown apartment building. There were a number of trash cans, overflowing with garbage. He entered warily.
Again he thought he saw a movement. This time a flash of red, or orange in one of the windows. But again, when he took a better look, it was gone. But now his attention was diverted by a sound behind him.
Several large dogs stood between him and the street. One growling menacingly. Finster looked franticly for a weapon. All he saw was a flimsy broom handle by one of the trash cans. He waved it at the dogs and they let him pass. They were more interested in the garbage anyway. From the street, he could hear them knocking the cans over.
Back in the street, Finster felt it would be a good idea to find a real weapon. Just down the block, he noticed the sign for a pawnshop. The door was locked, but he easily gained entry by breaking a window with a brick. The alarm didn't work. But under these conditions, he would have been glad to see the cops.
There was quite a selection to choose from. Finally, he selected a nice 45, and a pump action shotgun. As he collected some ammunition, he also slipped a small 380 into his pocket. It would be easy to carry. He added these to the collection in his trunk. Except for the 45, which he wore in a holster, under his jacket.
On the way back to his car, he stopped by the ally again. The dogs were still there, but they were busy, and payed Finster no attention. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. But as he scanned the windows, he could see no one. He felt like the last man in the world. He was sure that it was his nerves, and that sooner or later he would crack.
Finster walked slowly back to his car.


*The Fuzz realizes that if someone were to actually read this stuff, they would be getting it sorta backwards. There is a link in the sidebar, "Finster", that will take one to another page with this mess in it's proper order.