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A LOUD CRASH rang in my ears. Immediately I awoke from my slumber upon hearing the sudden bang. It sounded like a plate falling onto the hardwood floor. My first thought was that walkers somehow managed to get inside. I drew my knife from my pocket and stood on high alert.
Listening for the sounds of low groans. It was strange, I didn't hear anything like that. No more loud thuds, no more anything. The house was dead silent, a plate couldn't just magically fall and shatter on its own. I crept soundlessly from the large untouched room. My knife guided my path, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Who the hell was in the house? Could it have been walkers that have evolved to not growl mindlessly? That thought was washed away quickly. "Get anything good on your little run." I froze, unable to move a muscle. I was wrong, so wrong. It wasn't dead people, but people who had survived, and that was scarier than any walker out there.
I didn't recognize the voices so I concluded they weren't from the prison. The three deep masculine voices that came from downstairs were a dead giveaway that they were all men. Probably out scavenging for any reminding loot they could find whilst the others stayed back at camp. My heartbeat grew heavy as I attempted to calm my breathing.
I was nowhere close to fully healed, every point in my body ached with its type of throbbing pain. My legs are sore from walking. My stomach was upset from the berries and the lack of food. A throbbing head ached like a migraine that just refused to go away. And of course my ankle, from the place that Daryl had struck earlier. I was in no shape to fight.
Assuming they were all armed with assault rifles and other various artillery, I would be no match with my small pistol and a hunting knife. The creaking of boots against the wooden floor got louder and more clear. "I'll go check upstairs, and see if there's anything useful we could take back with us."
One of the men began climbing the stairs sending my heart into a frenzy. Shit shit shit shit shit! I ran into the nearest room to my right and pressed my back firmly against the back of the door. My heart thumped rapidly, it got to a point where I feared that the gathers would hear it pounding in my chest.
My stomach, furious that it hadn't gotten a meal randomly rawred a mighty cry every so often. If it decided to do that now I wasn't going to be getting a last meal. I began to feel my stomach acid eating away at the stored fat that had been building up throughout the past few years. Chips sounded good right about now, even if they were stale.
Soon enough he reached the top, my eyes peeked ever so slightly past the crack in between the door and the wall. He was armed with a large gun swinging by his side. God damnit! If he came to this room I was dead no questions asked. Luckily he chose one of the other bedrooms for now. I had to get out of here before he came to this room.
I ran over to a nearby window that was completely sealed off. Boards were placed strategically to keep anyone from getting in, or in my case from getting out. My fingers scraped against the nail, desperately trying to get it unstuck from the wood. I pulled and pulled but it wouldn't move a centimeter.
There was the sound of whistling coming from the guy. Why was he whistling, did he know I was there? I became a paranoid mess. The next door down the line creaked open and I knew my room was next on his list. My eyes swiftly scanned the room, I needed something, anything I could use.
The room used to be a kid's bedroom. Filled with stuffed unicorns and princess clothes. A wave of sadness hit me as I looked out over the sea of kids' toys. They were just children forced to live in this cruel unforgiving world. Focus, I told myself. My eyes landed on a rideable unicorn with a large pointy horn protruding from its head.
There I found my weapon. The white paint that covered the wooden part of the unicorn chipped off. And somehow water managed to infiltrate the wooden layer since it was rotting from the inside out. I used this to my advantage. With the decaying wood, it was easy to tear the horn off. I took out my hunting knife and quickly began carving away at the tip.
Sliver by sliver the wood was exposed, cutting off the bit that had been rotting away. Once I was able to get a sharp enough point I went back to my previous position against the door. The element of surprise was on my side, but that alone wouldn't be enough to defend against a guy armed with a gun.
There it was, the sound I dreaded hearing. The door of the room next to mine closed shut and he was on to the next. With every thump of his shoes against the wooden floor, I gripped the horn harder. I've never killed anyone before. I can't be much different than killing a walker, I assured myself.
As soon as he was inside the door I made my move. Leaping from behind the door I charged at him with my horn drawn. I had a clear shot right to his organs, and with his back turned to me there wasn't much he could do to stop this from happening. Or so that was what I thought.
The plan was supposed to go, I stabbed him with the carved spear he ends up dropping his weapon and I slit his throat with the knife. A quick and seemingly painless death. But of course, that wasn't how it went down. After hearing the door squeak he quickly spun around only to see me bolting towards him with a weapon in hand.
He managed to dodge my primary attack but wasn't able to fend me off for long. By the time his gun was up against my heart, I had my knife against his throat. It was a stalemate. "I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't want to hurt you." My voice went into a hushed whisper, fearing what might happen if the others came up and saw us like this.
"That's a shame." He said. "When wielding a blade with an intent to protect yourself you should always aim to kill." Was he lecturing me at a time like this? I didn't need a lesson on how to kill, I've killed plenty of walkers before. But this was different. The look in his eyes wasn't soulless, they were filled with emotions.
I can't do it. I knew already that I wasn't going to put up much of a fight. My weapon lowered to my side and the expression on his face softened. "Do what you need to," I said, aligning the barrel of the gun with my heart. I was foolish to think I could survive without another person, without Daryl. I hated him but he was the only thing keeping me alive.
My vision blurred. I stood there, hand on his gun that aimed to kill until I was unable to see past the static. My ears rang with this obnoxious buzzing sound, like a fly that just won't leave me alone. Spiraling around my head like I was a rotting corpse. This was it. This is where I died. My body became weaker the longer I stood. My legs gave out beneath me and I hit the floor with a thud. How pathetic I must have looked.
With my sunken cheekbones and deathly pale skin. I must have looked like one of them, a walker. My eyes blinked repeatedly, trying to see what was happening. I accepted, the fact that this would be my last day. I wouldn't be able to see the next sunrise. My eyes fluttered shut and I could feel my consciousness slipping away. That was when I heard the sound of a gun and everything went black.
