Save each other // Joel Miller

Thank you

Sofie's head fell back, hard, against the bark of an old oak tree as she slid her back down the rough bark. Her butt hit the ground with a thump and her chest heaved in an out. She was exhausted, traveling to the train station was a long journey on horseback, let alone on bare feet. She lifted her foot and swiped at the debris caught along the bottom. Small cuts bled a bit and throbbed with the touch. She did the same thing to the other one and then wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them up to her chest.

Silently, she cursed herself for being so hasty. She was so afraid and determined that she didn't think about what she was doing before acting on her impulses. Let go of her legs and leaned forward, tying her hair up with a pointy tail she had around her wrist. Her curls were damp with sweat and her hands rubbed dirt into it, but it felt so good to Sophie to finally have it off her neck. She had been running for too long, she needed to cool herself down and catch her breath. The adrenaline was wearing off and her body was sore.

After a few deep breaths, Sophie looked around. She recognized where she was based off of the  faded memories of living on her own. Everything looked slightly different in the winter, but not enough to make Sophie feel lost at all. She was grateful for the years of Girl Scouts she took to try and impress her dad and brother, as useless as they seemed at the time.

Sophie slowly pulled herself up and leaned on hand on the tree. If she was as right as she was confident about her whereabouts, the station was just over the hill in front of her and down the tracks a bit. She made her way to the top of the hill and looked down, smiling to herself when she saw the tracks in the distance. She took one last deep breath and set down the hill.

Sophie got to the tracks and took another look around, doing a 360 to take in her whole environment. She saw open fields and the wooded area she came from. As much as she was determined to find this message on the wall, she knew being in the wide open like this was not smart for so long. She turned on her heels and set a fairly quick pace down the rail, ignoring her bodies warnings of weariness and exhaustion.

Sophie had no problems walking down the path, from people or infected. The world was so quiet and peaceful it almost made her feel at ease. Her time abandoned was horrible but she also missed the quiet in a way. She knew it in her core that she was a solitary human, really only bonding with few. Even as a kid, she had a hard time making friends. Her brother used to tease her with his friends, telling her she was an old grandma in a babies body. Sophie smiled and shook off the memory as she approached a set of train cars on the tracks.

As of now, she could look past the cars and see the station, like a small beacon of light, but, although eager to get there, she was desperate for water or shoes. She walked along the car and found the door, slightly open. Quietly, she peeked through, making sure she showed nothing through the crack besides the slight side of her face. The light was dim but bright enough to reveal not a single person, or infected, in it. She, very carefully, squeezed her way through the crack, making sure not to move it and make any noise.

Sophie found a few crates stacked on each other. She pried the first one open, finding it asking peanuts filled to the brim. She dug around and came across a cast iron skillet, a very large mixing bowl, and other industrial kitchen equipment. She pulled the skillet out and tucked the handle into her waistband. It was bulky and uncomfortable but she needed bother her hands to search.

She went through countless crates, in the first and second boxcars before setting foot into the third and final one. She didn't find anything else useful to her travels so she leaped into it was just the skillet on hand. She let her guard down, after searching the first two, and let out a short, high pitched squeak when she laid eyes on the skeletal body propped in the corner of the car. Next to it, lay a note.