“Why did I let you convince me to do this again?”
“Because I promised my parents to visit them and it would be a trip to boring hell if you weren't here.”
“...I am to easily convinced.”, Connor said as he took another shot of vodka. He was sitting at the bar, with his gigantic backpack laying next to him. It looked somewhat more suited for parashooting then carrying his stuff. But Connor was the type that simply never wanted to be unprepared.
“Look on the bright side! That hot waitress has been giving you some nice looks since we came in.”, his best friend Jason said, nodding toward the waitress that just reentered the room. Connor wasn't surprised, he was worth the attention. At age 21, he was around 6'4”, big shoulders, a very sexy, slim built and his long, light brown hair paired with his black leather jacket drew attention wherever he went.
“Hrmpf, she's a smoker. You know I don't like smokers.”, Connor gave back, taking his next shot. Connor was quite a booze hound.
“You're too picky. I'd be happy if more girls would notice me!”, Jason said with a sarcastic undertone. It was true though, he was a 5'8” tall, had short black hair and was otherwise rather non-spectacular. Suddenly, their was a loud CRASH. They both snapped around to see that the waitress had dropped a large tablet of drinks. Their military training their parents had forced them to take part in a month ago had been making them rather jumpy lately.
“Hm, she doesn't look that good...”, Connor mumbled as he saw the waitress stagger off, clutching her head.
Something was wrong, and he could tell it. He saw figures moving around outside the windows and all doors had been shut. In his backpack, he had an extensive medkit, assorted tools, food, a sleeping bag and tent and a gun with two extra clips.