RETROUVAILLES - R.G.

chapter 1

"jesus fucking christ!"

the words left my mouth quickly as another wave of crawlers made their way towards me. my sweaty palm gripped the small axe i held, which was slowly becoming blunt the more i used it. useless. the first crawler reached me, and i buried the blade into its soft skull. i didn't have time to watch it fall to the ground, as the next three creatures stumbled closer to me. the sight was overwhelmingly disgusting. parts of their faces had decayed, filled with maggots and rot. you smell them before you see them, most of the time. when i first encountered a crawler, the smell was enough to take me out. i remember almost accepting death that day. but, i didn't. i quickly killed them, letting out a shriek as i did. the final one presented itself in front of me. i scanned it's apperance - a blue flannel shirt, with a graphic t-shirt underneath which faintly read 'i love my daughter'. the arrow pointed to its left.

i started to sob. the thing in front of me only moved closer, it's only intention to eat me alive. i thought about the monsters daughter, and where she was. i could hear its teeth clicking together as it snapped its mouth at me, and i unwillingly raised my axe to finish the job. someone's father.

before i could lodge my axe into the crawler's brain, an arrow pierced its head, splattering small drops of blood onto my face. i stumbled back, falling on my ass, wiping my face rapidly. the creature fell at my feet, a lifeless, rotting face staring up at me.

"oh god, oh fuck.." i muttered, making sure the blood wasn't in my eyes or mouth.

"get up."  a rough voice sounded in my ears from above me. i squinted in the sun as i looked up. a man, with shaggy, chestnut coloured hair and a crossbow stood towering over me. he dressed himself in a leather waiscoat, and a dark shirt and jeans. his boots were worn, signs of the past life. i didn't get up, i only stared. the first time i've seen another human in days. another man stormed past him.

he was tall; that was the first thing i noticed as he looked down at me from above. he clenched his jaw, observing me, his eyes catching the sunlight. he raised a tanned forearm to shield his eyes. his beige button up was covered in a layer of dirt, blood, and sweat. it hung loosely on his frame, the buttons beginning to detatch from wear.
"get up." he repeated, stretching out his hand. i grabbed it tentatively, stumbling upwards. he began to pull me forwards hastily, and i wriggled out of his grip, whistling loudly. the man jerked his head towards me, confused.

humphrey, my dog, came limping from behind a tree. he had hurt his leg a while back, while i fought off a pack of crawlers. i got him before, when i was younger and he was just a puppy. his golden coat reflected softly in the evening sun as he made his way towards me, whimpering as he did so.

"how did you manage..." the man trailed off. his accent was thick, every word laced with a twang of his southern state. both of them stared at humphrey and his wagging tail, delighted to see someone who was actually alive. the taller one resumed his act of dragging me towards the car they had driven here. i was thrown in the backseat, along with humphrey, and blindfolded.

the car journey seemed to take days.

"she can't stay. daryl, we can't trust anyone. we don't know anything about her."
"i know, but she has her dog and she's injured. don't you think-"
"no, i don't."
"you didn't let me finish."
"i don't wanna hear it. she. isn't. staying. final." there was a pause. "we're fine as we are. don't need anymore people in the prison." he mumbled quietly.

they seemed to forget i was sat in the back of the car as they continued to debate whether i was allowed into the safety of their camp or thrown back out there to inevitably be killed. i became frustrated, as the pretty man continued to interrupt the man with the wings on the back of his leather waistcoat - 'daryl'. it seemed to be unspoken that the first guy had all the authority - some type of leadership.