Unbreakable threads

Chapter two : the journey to find rick

Alyssa tightened her grip on the hunting knife, the cold steel a poor but comforting substitute for the warmth she'd just lost. She glanced back at the house one last time, her mother's image lingering in her mind. Then, with a heavy breath, she steeled herself and stepped onto the cracked pavement, the air thick with the stench of rot.

The neighborhood she'd once known felt foreign, like something ripped from a nightmare. Walkers, those shambling, hollow-eyed corpses, drifted in the streets, their groans filling the quiet. Some staggered aimlessly, others sniffed at the air, as if they could sense the warmth of fresh blood. Her heart hammered, but she forced herself forward, staying low as she crept along the sidewalk, careful to avoid broken glass and debris that would give her away.

Ahead, the street was a mess of crashed cars, doors hanging open, belongings spilling onto the asphalt. Alyssa crouched behind a dilapidated SUV, peeking around the side. She'd have to go through the maze of vehicles to reach the main road to the hospital. There was no other way.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, glancing at the knife in her hand. "Guess we're getting up close and personal today."

As she started moving, the growling of the dead grew louder. Her eyes darted around, spotting a walker stumbling close to the car beside her. She froze, breath caught, watching as it lurched past her, its rotting face turned away. She waited until it was out of sight, then crept around the next car, keeping her movements silent and controlled.

One walker, two, then three—she dodged and weaved through the maze of metal and flesh, each encounter making her blood pound louder in her ears. But her luck didn't last. She was halfway through when her foot caught on a fallen purse, and she stumbled, landing hard on the asphalt with a gasp.

Her hand stung from the scrape, but she didn't have time to check it. The sound of her fall had attracted nearby walkers, their heads snapping in her direction, dead eyes narrowing in on her like predators locking onto prey. She scrambled to her feet, clutching her knife tighter, trying to steady her shaking hands.

"Okay, Alyssa," she whispered to herself, forcing a grin. "Time to make Mom proud."

A walker lunged at her, its arms outstretched, teeth gnashing. Alyssa ducked under its swing, thrusting the knife into its head. The impact jolted up her arm, and for a split second, she felt sick, watching the light fade from its eyes. But there was no time to process it. She yanked the knife free, barely dodging another walker that stumbled toward her.

She sidestepped, slashing its throat, though she knew it wouldn't stop it. The creature staggered, off-balance, and Alyssa took her chance, driving the knife into the base of its skull. She jerked it free again, her arm trembling as she watched the walker collapse.

Breathless, she scanned the area, her mind racing. More were coming, drawn by the sounds of the struggle. She didn't have much time. She took off, weaving through the cars, her legs burning as she sprinted down the road.

Ahead, she saw the hospital looming in the distance, a grim structure against the horizon, its once-bright lights now darkened. She quickened her pace, ignoring the strain in her legs, her eyes locked on her goal. She didn't know if Rick was there, or if he was even alive, but she wasn't going to stop now.

The dead flooded the streets, shambling toward her from every side, their moans growing louder. Alyssa's chest tightened, but she pushed forward, darting between the wrecked cars, dodging reaching arms and rotting faces. Her knife was her only lifeline, and she used it whenever she had to, stabbing, slicing, anything to keep them at bay.

Finally, she broke through the mass of walkers, skidding to a halt in front of the hospital entrance. The doors were shattered, glass littering the floor.