Cigarettes and blood

River

The foliage crackle and snap beneath your feet, breathing heavy with every stride, it feels like you're going to collapse any second. The hair on your neck stands up as the growls and snarls behind you pick up again, you turn your head over your shoulder, 'shit.. three more walkers.' you think to yourself as you pick up the pace, your eyes scanning everywhere for a place to hide. Your heart skips a beat when you see a shallow river. Crossing it will slow the walkers down just enough for you to slip away. You breathe in sharply and charge for the river, the cold water splashes wildly from your strides. The world starts whirling forward, your foot got snagged on a branch causing you to fall, panicked you thrash around to get your hands on the bed of the river. Pushing yourself up you make a dash to the other side just in time as the five walkers start touching the water hissing and reaching for you, hungry for your flesh "Try another day ass clowns." you snap at the walking rotting flesh chasing you.

...

It's been a few hours since your last close call, you tread through the forest searching for a somewhat safe place to stay the night, as the sun is going down casting long dark shadows across the forest. It's been roughly about a year since the outbreak, originally you had a group, just a small one but your camp was overrun and you have been on the move ever since, you can't really trust people now in this world. By the time you find a small cabin your feet are screaming at you, you don't even remember when the last time you stopped for a rest. You grab your machete from its sheathe, and yank it out, creating a small swish. You reach for the handle, your hands shaking from the unknown behind that door, before this whole apocalypse you wouldn't think twice before opening a door, but now, it can be the difference between life or death for you. You grip the handle and take a deep breathe, with a swift twist and a yank you whip the door open holding your machete upwards in a ready position to kill anything that moves. Thankfully all that was in there was a worn down small cabin, probably used to be some families retreat, or maybe even one of those old guys who are obsessed with hunting, you laughed at the thought. Sliding your machete back into its sheathe, you sling your heavy backpack on the ground and slide your boots off. Walking across the wooden floor to the very very worn down couch, flopping yourself on it. The cushion, well what's left of it, hugs your beaten body. Scoring a couch is a major win in this world, at least for you it is. You close your eyes and slowly drift to sleep.

...

Waking up you sit up and start grabbing your things, 'Back on the move.' you thought to yourself sighing. To be quite honest you don't even know what you're looking for. Shutting the door behind you, you start your journey across the forest once again.

...

After a few hours of walking you decided to sit for a while. Sitting at the base of a tree you slump your backpack off your sore shoulders and open it, grabbing the last of your food, ripping open the crinkly package and taking bites of it. As you start finally relaxing, a twig snaps from beside you, your head whirls to your right, jumping to your feet your machete is already in your hands ready for blood. As you inch closer you see a soft brown doe grazing on grass and leaves. You put away your weapon and grab your backpack and admire the creature from afar, slowly getting closer to get a better look, you've never seen one so close before! Just as you get roughly a meter or so away from it a whoosh pierces the quiet air, and the deer drops to the ground. A long black arrow sticks up from the deers head. Not even having enough time to react to the arrow shot, a brawny man with dark hair and a crossbow appears to retrieve his arrow and well I guess his kill too.