A Restless Wanderer || Open

The room was dark and still. Only the faint flickering of the candles flames made the shadows morph in small, wave like patterns. Alexander Cross sat on a hospital bed, feet planted firmly on the floor as if he was ready to jump to action at any second. Actual rest in a life ruled by infected, fungal skeletons of those that once were humans, was a mere joke. The large six foot man hunched over on the beds edge and cupped his rough hands to his face. Slowly he drew in a deep breath of stale air before sitting back up. His worst fear for as long has he could remember was always becoming infected and loosing all control over his own body. Although his other fear would always be turning into an abusive man, like his father who he hadn't seen in years.

Tentatively Alex rose to his feet, tucked his hands in the pocket of his khaki jeans and looked out the window with cold, dark blue eyes. He then took silently started to pace along the window length, which was no more than three or four steps each way. For minutes the tall, masculine figure moved from left to right, pivoting smoothly on the balls of his feet just to change direction. He needed something to do, his mind was running at a million miles an hour. How is it that they hadn't found some sort of cure yet? Why wasn't there more people with an immunity to this fungus by now? Wasn't 30 years long enough for some sort of evolution to start taking place for homosapions?

Then as if a switch had triggered in his brain, Alex stopped pacing. He faced with window and crossed his arms across his chest. Blue eyes searching as far into the distance as possible. He needed something to do. Something that would keep his mind from questioning every single thing that life had surrounded him with. Turning briskly away from the window, he scooped his assault rifle from the wall and walked out of the room. Silently he clicked on his flash light and walked down the hall ways. If he couldn't sleep he'd make sure everything was safe within the hospital.