Snowblind

[Ohm]

Andrew trudged through the snow; his face showed all the signs as he walked through the cold, his usual expression replaced with a stern one that stared into the distance. His right hand held the strap of his bag, knuckles shifting in place to keep busy. Andrew kept a steady pace as he followed footprints left outside.

It could have been anybody's, judging by the noise he heard as he descended the stairs, but that did not matter. He needed to get out of there. Too many cooks and shit.

There was no one else with him. If they tried to keep up with him, then he hadn't made it easy for them, the same way Shawn made it for him.

The whole thing had been a bust. Crazy people, indecisive people, and worse, a snitch who couldn't be bothered to check if a body was dead or not.

How the hell can one suck at making sure something's dead?

Shawn found a way.

Andrew coughed as he stopped as more footprints overlapped with one another; his left hand reached up to stroke at his beard while he decided which he would follow. He gauged the size of the print and followed that while putting his left hand into the pocket of his bomber. The only thing here that he could trust right now.

Should've never trusted him, should've expected this from the start. It was carelessness on his part. He left as quickly as he could after that. He had to trudge through the room below to get out, but he managed.

Andrew stopped near a tree to catch his breath, seeing it flow out in front of him. His left hand temporarily left its refuge to hold against it as Andrew closed his eyes; he breathed in and out as slowly as he could.

The room below. At first a safe haven for Andrew, and now, people had shown up, classmates doing things that were probably on the side of absolutely fucked.

There had been stuff going on below, but Andrew had not paid any notice past that. He was too busy trying to keep up with that cowardly bastard. Whatever else his classmates were doing did not concern him at the moment. Screamin', fightin', whatever. If they wanted to tear each other apart, they could do so away from him.

Should have done the damn check-up himself. Andrew would not make that mistake again. He could not afford to make anymore; seeing what happened to Pinky's leg was enough to tell him that.

Andrew opened his eyes into a determined stare. He pushed away from the tree with his left hand and continued his walk with the same steady pace as before. His right hand curled around the bag strap to the point the veins on it looked ready to pop.

Andrew had not been sure what he was going to do when he had woken up alone in that place. But now, he had an idea, these footprints went somewhere, and he would find out where.

((Andrew Lapson continued elsewhere...))