The Archer and The Airship » 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 «

Chapter One

1. Human Again

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."
-Norman Cousins

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Rays of light warmed her face and stroked her hair, illuminating the yellow and green leaves all around her. She absentmindedly stroked the pages of her book, trying to pay attention but growing distracted by the grandeur around her. She took a deep breath and smiled at the smell of the moonflowers and wisteria. Her grandmother's garden was a massive jungle of native wildflowers, twisting over the covered porch and strong Georgia trees. It was a safe place from the harsh reality of the world; that to survive is to be on your own. A shadow fell over Zepp's shoulder. She froze, knowing she would only be so lucky if the sun had swallowed itself.
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ZEPPELIN jumped awake, cold sweat coating her skin. She stretched her shaking limbs and rubbed the ache building in her chest as she caught her breath. More often than not, nightmares haunted her sleep, hanging over her shoulder, whispering in her ear. Truthfully, even her waking moments were haunted by them. Momentary peace came when biters were around, when her body went into survival mode and her brain could turn off.

  The few supplies Zeppelin had left in her pack kept her from the verge of desperation; an extra pistol, two boxes of ammo, a pocket knife, bandana, rope, and a few wrappers from granola bars gone by. The last of her perishables vanished with that can of peaches she devoured the night before, and she'd have to resort to hunting, something she'd never truly cared for. But she found she was good at it, that she excelled at the quiet patience hunting other creatures required.

She touched the small V tattoo on her wrist as she did every morning, nimble fingers grazing the faded black lines, and then scooted in the tall grass, inching herself from underneath the fallen tree. The field around her was empty, an early morning fog dusting the tips of the overgrown ocean of green.

Today, her only goal was to find food. She snagged a large stick from her hide out just before she walked away and began sharpening the end with her knife. She could set a trap, use her knife, but some times a critter will skitter but and she could be quick enough with a spear. 

  Zepp carefully wove around the natural debris of the forest, walking heel to toe to stifle the sound of her steps. She had always been good at this, quiet and unnoticeable, but the last few months of being alone in this new world, a world were quiet can mean survival, honed her skills. She had successfully made it through without interacting with another soul, always catching the tell tale signs of people around, watching them long before they knew she existed. She wouldn't risk taking a chance on people for them to turn on her or be ripped away.

Figuratively and literally.

  The forest was calm this morning. Even the birds only hummed softly. But something else hung in the air, something cold and heavy. After a mile or two, she understood why her skin crawled. She dropped to the ground, catching her breath in her throat as she spotted the arrow sticking out of a tree, the bright plastic fletching prominent against the muted greens and browns of the forest. The bolt pointed East, straight ahead of her. Whoever shot it must be close by.