Big Bad Wolf

Draft: Part 1

A/N: This is a draft, meaning everything is unpolished and unofficial. This includes character's and their design, the story and setting. I intend to develop it further for I love the idea of writing it, though that is what I have so far. I hope you enjoy it! The word red was used about 24 times, so there's some trivia for you.

Red. Red. Red. We were used to seeing new the colour everywhere along with stacks of bodies. The bodies of humans, the bodies of the undead. Red. In the streets, up the walls, in my mind, in my body. They wander alone, they wander alone. We bring our shotguns everywhere we go. We never sleep. We never stop.
Red. Red was the colour of agony. It was the colour of anger. It was the rage written in the creatures eyes, it was the cuts and wounds on their bodies. It was the bullet holes in their chests. Red was the colour of negativity, the pessimism on our lips, the guns to our head. Then red became a different colour. It because the hand that pulled the gun away, screaming positivity so we knew we were to listen. Screaming.
Red was the colour of hope, of faith, of murder to the killers. It was the colour of her hood. It was the colour of the hood that she kept up all the time, every time I saw her.

"You are a sad bunch."
"His wife is dead."
"And 'e's just lettin' them win?"
"His wife is dead."
"And 'e's not even gettin' 'er what she wanted?!"
"His wife is dead!" I didn't want to shout at a time like this. A few days had passed since we had to kill Rachel. She was infected. We didn't exactly have a choice. Of course it was going to hurt Adam. They had been married for 3 years and I could tell that they were in love. He understood the process and he understood that she had wished to protect the group, but he couldn't cope with her death. He was fine when it happened, only a little saddened. No one knew he'd breakdown. He was almost bitten himself.
"Ahm sorry, Adam... But you 'ave to-"
"Jo!" I couldn't help but interrupt her. Yes, she was the glimmer of hope for us and, yes, she wore the red hoodie, though she was annoying. She didn't know when to shut up. "The man lost someone he loved! You can be so selfish sometimes."
"Ahm not! I just wanna keep everyone else alive! One person can't slack off just because-"
I stood. I was taller, more muscular than her. I clearly overpowered her in that area. "What about your sister, Joanne?"
"Don't call me Joanne!"
"Don't bring her sister into this..." Adam murmured. He was right, I should've stopped there. Instead, I stepped closer to her, our faces inches apart.
"Guys, break it up." Another person is our group said, Mags. She tried to push me and Jo apart though her attempts failed.
"I'll call you what I want." I began. "And I'll call your sister dead."
Everyone's mouths dropped. Jo's eyes formed a fresh layer of tears. She tried to sniff them away, only partially succeeding.
Then pain struck my stomach. Her knee. I don't know why I didn't just stop there. The shouts of others were blocked out and muffled as I swung my hand towards her face. A single clapping sound filled the room for a split second. Jo's mouth had dropped, hand to her cheek. Only then I knew I'd gone too far earlier, that I was the only one to disagree with in this argument.
"Jo, I'm so so-"
"No you're not." Her head was angled towards the floor, though eyes painted with rage looked at me. "You're never sorry. An' my sister's only dead because of you."
Mags looked at me, annoyance and shock lacing her expression. Hands on Jo's shoulders, she guided the her upstairs. "Beware of the big bad wolves, Ry."

Jo was the youngest, 17. There were 6 in our group. Adam, 27, Mags, 31, me, 22. The two others were on a supply run at the time of the argument. When they returned, they had got plenty of supplies that could be useful, along with some food, though they were confused by the silence.
"Heeeey, chaps! What's going down." The female began, Patty, age 24. Charlie (Charles but that doesn't suit him), 23, can basically take nothing seriously. It's good for cheering up when it's necessary, though they like poking fun or just generally being idiots.
"What happened down here? Y'all seem down." Charlie said, glancing at Adam and I's faces.
"Did Jo die? Did Mags die? I know you got the hots for Mags, Ry, but she's 9 years older than you."
"Did they both die?" Charlie interrupted.
"Nothing's dead." Adam said when the two finally stopped wittering. "Except Jo and Mags' faith in Ry."
"Oh." The two said in unison, before turning each other to yell jinx.
"Don't!" Adam lifted a hand. It was almost like he was pushing the word away.
Adam sat on a wooden crate by the wall. His head was almost always in his hands. He was the strongest of all of use mentally, aside from Mags. Though he had lost his wife, he had still been working as hard as any other member. I could hardly believe that he could still function, knowing that he'd never see his wife in person again. He just knew what was right for the team.