• Rain's POV:
It's been weeks, possibly months since you've last had contact with other people, who the hell knows.
The rapid decrease in interaction with others, or a simpler way to put it, none, has left you in a self-manufactured set of walls. Blocking the hard truths of life out, leaving you hollow.
It has taken no toll, or so you believe. For its easier this way, not having the constant fear of heartbreak, that seems to come intertwined with this new world. Or feeling the pain incredibly worse than any walker bite, once somebody you have cared for and loved so dearly... is gone, taken away.
Yet part of you still earns for the comfort and affection of another person. Part of you knows this, but the other does not, resulting in the hollow, unaccepting mindset. There is a crack in the walls, a breach.
And as you sit by the creek, staring at the stars, the fire filling the night with crackling sounds, you cannot help but long for someone on the other side of the bonfire. Somebody to kick walker ass with, wake you up in the morning, just be there.
Due to fear of falling into an even more upsetting train of thought, you quickly shake these common ideas from your mind and stand up.
You go around your campsite and check the security systems you've created. Twine and tin cans string from tree to tree, alerting me if a walker is attracted to the flames and decides to stumble through.
But like the previous three checks, the system is fine, and you slip back in to a sleeping bag.
Dazing off, your eyes catch the last glimpse of today, and open to enter a new morning of the same loneliness.
-
Packed up and ready to head out, you consult the map. The prison you've been searching for is closer than ever, and the, what's seemed like years, of traveling will finally come to an end.
You slosh through the creek and stare upwards towards the ridge needed to climb in order to reach the destination. The ground is coated in vines and leaves, and the terrifying ascent seems to look down at you in disgust and disapproval.
For hours, you move, up, down, and across the mountainous terrain, finally reaching the top.
And after catching you breath and drinking some much appreciated water, you notice the dirt path ahead.
Overcome with joy, you bolt through the last 20 feet of woods and step foot on the road. Back on the path to the prison. Back on the path to possible shelter, food, and supplies.
Just thinking of it causes an immediate smile, much to your surprise. For you automatically scold yourself, in this shithole of a world, hope easily leads to disappointment, and it sadly escapes your mind for a second. This leads to a crash, a sudden epiphany that this idea you've had in my head for so long, could just be one wild goose chase.
But this is a risk you sure as hell am willing to take.
According to the directions, it should be only a mile or so's walk down this path.
So with a mixed sense of confidence and sadness, you continue on the route.
-
The small game which you have recently hunted hangs on a string attached to your bag. It sways with the motion of your stride, and causes a slight gag every time it nears your face.
"This better be damn worth it," you can't help but mutter to yourself while turning a corner.
You pause. Tears of happiness begin to roll down your cheeks at the sight.
The prison. The possible safe haven.
Salt reaches your lips and you come to the sudden realization of the tears falling down your face. Shocked at this show of such emotion, your hope begins to heighten, hope for survival, hope for yourself.
Wanting to skip the last 30 yards, you are restricted by your injured leg. For you broke something evading a walker while scavenging in a house off of the road, and now walk with a limp.
But despite the injury, you pick up pace and trot to the prison.
At about 10 feet from the two sets of gates, you notice something. For among the growls of nearby walkers, movement attracts your eyes to the Eastern guard tower.
A human.
The tears in your eyes flow heavier as the silhouette of the real, live, human being becomes more distinctive against the sunset dyed sky.
For a while you forget the situation and begin to yell and jump, trying to gain their attention.
"HEY!!"
You forget what the world is now -
"HEY OPEN THE GATES!"
You forget the people you've encountered-
"PLEASE, OPEN THE GATES!"
And as you continue to scream towards them, you gain some thing else's interest. Walkers.
Around a dozen are alerted and made aware of the fresh meat. As they surround you, you hobble to the gates. 2 are impaled by the wooden pegs but the rest continue to advance.
You easily take down 3 by stabbing them in the skull before loosing your knife, and you begin to shoot at the others. The gunshots alert more walkers of my presence and they shuffle over as well.
"Shit."
• Carl's POV:
At first I thought that she was a walker, because of her limp and messed up clothes, so I didn't think anything of her.
But the gunshots got my attention and I quickly located her using the scope on my rifle. I rush down, out of the guard tower, meeting up with my dad and Daryl, who are also running towards the entrance.
I jump on the pulleys, and with help from dad, open the gates. Daryl runs in, scooping the girl up in his arms, as Carol, Beth, and Maggie pick off any walkers that get too close. Daryl hurries back in and we immediately shut the gates behind him.
"She passed out before I could get to her," he lays her down lightly in the grass and I go over. "There's a scar on her face and her leg seems be broke, but didn't see no bites."
I thought I noticed her eyes fluttering a bit so I lean over, looking down on her. I smile at her.
"Do you think she has a group?" Carol joins us all crowded around her.
"I don't think so," my dad motions towards the squirrels and picks her up, as we head back to the prison.
I grin, looking down at my feet dragging in the gravel. She looked about my age. Well I hope she is, she's real pretty and seems badass.
• Rain's POV:
The last thing I remember before passing out is the man with a crossbow running out of the gates.
I also faintly remember a young boy, 'round my age I hope. I saw him smile down at me.
Hope I get to stay.
