Inexorable • d.dixon

[001] VALIANT

"We're setting fire
To our insides
Just for fun."

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Chapter One: Valiant

I CAN'T EXACTLY describe what happened. One moment, I was with my old camp then suddenly, I was alone. You always end up alone in this world now, one way or another. My feet ached, my wounds burned and screamed with infections I couldn't even tell apart anymore. Days. Those moments that kept flashing in my mind, those short moments, happened to be days. A week even, but not months. I wasn't that hungry.

Even so, how could I be?

I can't say I'm not thirsty. I ran out of water a while ago--clean water at least. I would give a time, but I wasn't keeping track. This Georgia heat doesn't help either, and the horrid fact it hardly rains. Just a little shade would be great. My bag that slung over my shoulder was practically empty, with nothing but an empty gun, granola bar wrappers, empty water bottles, some small gauze pads I found, and a box of matches. My knife had broken such a long while ago, it would've been a blessing to use anything but this old rusty screwdriver I found in the trunk of a car.

I walked closer and closer to the sight of train tracks. "There could be a pond or river below it." I muttered to myself. Any water was better than no water. I dragged my aching body over and trailed my eyes over the railings. No water. But looking further out, I saw a prison. The side was burned down, walkers freely trotting and skulking around the area.

"This place could be a gold mine.." I whispered softly, looking at the large building. "But look at all those walkers.."

My eyes slowly trailed to my 'weapon' and I could just imagine the feeling of getting surrounded and dozens of walker teeth ripping layers of my skin off. It made my arms and shoulders ache, as if I'd felt such a tragedy before. I haven't felt it, but I've seen it. Close enough, I suppose. I plucked my screwdriver from its spot, looped around a little belt loop on my jeans. 'Don't break on me now, trusty fella.' I uttered softly to myself—well, to my weapon. I swallowed all discourage in my mind, and began to cross the dried creek path. If the walkers could easily get in, I could too.

I grunted, hoisting myself up the steep hill and sneakily creeping up to the broken fence. The burned area was completely shallow of walkers, maybe three or four just freely sauntering around. I could take them, or I could just run past them. It's not like there's much of a third option, is there. I decided to go with both. If killing them didn't work, I'd make a run for it. Find a closed off area or room, and wait until they eventually lose interest.

"Deep breaths, Emerson." I whispered to myself, almost wanting to jog in place as a small push. Stupid. "Just run your ass off."