LONE

Jamba

Papa ain't call even though he saw me on tv, it's all good. (Fuck you)

Isaiah isn't a pretty sleeper. If you share a room with him, you'll notice that he snores like a lawnmower, drools like a waterfall, and rolls out of bed constantly. It's rare that he'll wake up on the bed, since normally he wakes up underneath it. One time, he woke up under Lamar's bed. Freaked the hell out of him. However, Lamar has shared a room with him for eight years now, so he's used to it. Isaiah and Lamar's bedroom is somehow still in pretty good condition. They both decorate it with random shit they find outside, which probably contributes to its strange charm.

"Good morning, sweet cheeks." Isaiah has morning patrol for the rest of the week now, after his screw-up yesterday.
"Don't call me that." A half-asleep Lamar mumbles. Isaiah stands up and stretches, audibly cracking a few of his joints. "Ugh, dude. That's so gross." "Shut up and go back to sleep, sweetheart." Lamar sticks his middle finger up, and rolls over. The floorboards creek as Isaiah walks across them. He reaches the mirror and fixes his eye gauze, ties his hair into its usual ponytail. He hasn't cut his hair in years, and doesn't plan to cut it any time soon. It's pretty curly, so when he puts his hat on, a few curls poke out from the sides.

The halls are pretty quiet in the morning. Aside from the occasional bang of faraway gunshots, and Walker moans and groans, it's a nice place to be. After kicking a few rocks and finding a big stick, Isaiah is at the bottom of the ladder that leads to the lookout tower. "Yeah, make the guy with one eye be on lookout, real smart, Marlon." He grumbles, before beginning to climb.

Once he finally reaches the top, all that's left to do is wait. Wait for something interesting to happen. When you're waiting, your mind distracts you, and makes you think about stuff. Stuff you'd rather not think about. In Isaiah's case, this 'stuff' is his mom. He misses her. Before the outbreak happened, she died after a long battle with breast cancer. His dad fell into a depression, and alongside the grief and ADHD, Isaiah was enrolled in Ericson's Boarding School for troubled youth.

Before his mind distracts him any longer, there's a loud 'bang' in the distance. Too loud to be a gunshot, but too close to be ignored. This sounded more like an explosion. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who heard it. A large cloud of smoke engulfed the stretch of trees, probably less than 5 minutes away.

Everyone had come outside, sharing quizzical looks. "Huge thing of smoke, over that way." Isaiah pointed his finger towards the trees. Marlon is the first to say anything. "Okay. Brody? Come with me. We're gonna check it out." Brody looks visibly anxious, and her and Marlon exchange a look.

Once they head out the gates, Louis approaches the post and looks up at Isaiah. "You havin' fun up there?" He calls up. "I'm the last person that should be on lookout duty. My vision is absolute cheeks, dude."
"I'm still amazed that the arrow didn't kill you, either you got a real thick skull, or-"
"The first one." Lamar interrupts, walking over and leaning against the wall.
Louis and Lamar greet each other, probably having a conversation. Isaiah is busy focusing on the treeline.

"Open the gate! We got wounded!" Marlon and Brody are back, carrying a little boy, and a girl who seemed sixteen, give or take.