The End Of My World

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I walked and walked.

Who was Blade?

Am I Blade?

I couldn't think straight, nor walk straight. I was surviving by myself again, I was on my own and I was gonna own it. "Fuck this bitch ass world" I scream while looking up and into the sky. I trip and fall flat on my face. I could almost feel the world telling me "thats karma for you bitch". I pushed myself up, wiping the dirt from my face, and scanned my surroundings. The remnants of the prison fight still lingered in my mind, and the weight of everything seemed to crush me.

As I stumbled through the underbrush, a glint of metal caught my eye. My heart raced as I approached and found an old, rusted railroad track, half-buried in the overgrown vegetation. The sight of the tracks was a small beacon of familiarity in this desolate world, a symbol of a path that might lead somewhere—anywhere but here. I followed the tracks, each step feeling heavier than the last. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. I needed a direction, a purpose, something to keep me moving forward. The first night on the road was the hardest. I found a small clearing away from the railroad tracks, shrouded in the dense forest. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The shadows of the trees seemed to press in on me, and the distant howls of walkers were a constant reminder that I was far from safe. I had no campfire, no warmth, only the cold bite of the night air and the rustling of leaves.

As I lay on the ground, using my pack as a pillow, I stared up at the dark sky, trying to find some comfort in the stars. But they only served to remind me of how alone I was. Sleep was elusive. Every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig, set my heart racing. I had to stay alert, knowing that the night could bring danger at any moment.

By the second night, I had managed to find a slightly better place to camp—a small, rocky outcrop that offered some protection from the elements and a better view of the surrounding area. I'd scavenged some supplies from abandoned vehicles I had passed, including a broken flashlight and a few cans of food. I tried to make a fire with what little dry wood I could find, but it barely warmed me. The cold and the dampness of the ground made it hard to find any comfort. I ate a small portion of canned beans and tried to ignore the gnawing hunger in my stomach. The solitude was heavy, and my thoughts constantly drifted back to the prison and the people I'd fought alongside. I wondered if they had found safety or if they were still struggling.

The third night was a bit better, but only slightly. I had managed to find a small, abandoned cabin off the beaten path. It was barely standing, but it offered some shelter from the wind and rain that had started to fall. I was still using the railroad tracks as a guide, but I had to be cautious, knowing that walkers might be drawn to the sound of my footsteps or the sight of my light. Inside the cabin, I made a makeshift bed from old blankets and a pile of straw. It wasn't much, but it was a significant improvement over the cold, damp ground. I used the broken flashlight sparingly to conserve its battery and tried to get some rest, though the noises outside kept me on edge. The constant need to remain vigilant was exhausting, but I knew I had to keep moving forward.

I got up that morning and walked for what felt like hours before something interesting happened. Birds fleeing from the trees and the sound of a gun going off rings in the distance. My head automatically picks up and scans the woods for danger. When I find nothing I quickly get up and head towards the sound.

Minutes later I come to a clearing, a little girl lying dead in the middle. A flower sits right above her head. I move closer, staying low and quiet. I get to the girl and see a small bullet hole sitting right in between her eyes. She seems familiar, Lizzie. The crazy kid, she would talk to the walkers and say they were her friends and that they were talking to her. I couldn't understand her obsession but I always kept my distance. I looked around and found her sister dead in the dirt too. I just turned and walked away. This was fresh.

On the fourth night, I felt a small sense of progress. I was getting used to the routine of setting up camp and staying alert. I had become more adept at scavenging for supplies and had even managed to find a small stash of bottled water. My spirits were slightly lifted, but the isolation was beginning to wear on me. I kept thinking about Lizzie.

That night, as I sat by the dying embers of my fire, I heard a noise that made my blood run cold. The distinct shuffling of walkers was closer than I had ever heard before. I quickly extinguished the fire and pressed myself into the shadows, trying to stay as silent as possible. The noises faded after a tense wait, but the fear remained, a constant companion.

By the fifth night, I had grown more accustomed to the rhythm of the road. My nights were still filled with uncertainty, but I was learning to manage my fear and exhaustion. I had found a small, dry cave that provided better shelter and warmth. I still felt the sting of loneliness, but it was tempered by a growing determination.

As I lay in the cave, wrapped in my blanket, I recall the sigh I passed by on my way down the railroad tracks today.

A wooden sign, barely visible through the tangled mess of overgrowth. I pushed through the foliage and read the faded letters: "Terminus—Sanctuary for All." My pulse quickened. Terminus. The promise of safety, of something resembling normalcy in a world gone mad. The name felt like a cruel twist of fate, like it was daring me to hope for something better.

I crouched beside the sign, my mind racing. Was this a real sanctuary, or just another trap? After everything we'd been through, I couldn't afford to trust easily, but the idea of a place offering safety was too tempting to ignore. I glanced down the tracks, which seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. What would Rick's group of hooligans do?

Taking a deep breath, I made a decision. If there was even the slightest chance that Terminus could offer something better, then it was worth investigating. I followed the tracks with renewed determination, the last rays of sunlight fading behind me. This time when it turned night I didn't stop, I kept trekking.