Down by the water • TWD

That's a Big One.

Avery slowed in the middle of the street, her brow furrowing as she turned slightly, trying to place it. This was uneven and sharp. A scream cut through the air somewhere down the block, then another. Her chest tightened instantly, her body going still as her hand drifted toward the knife at her hip.

Only the wind brushed through the houses, carrying with it a feeling she couldn't quite shake, something wrong, something slipping. Then she heard footsteps. They were ragging, off-beat, and getting closer. Her head snapped toward the sound.

Two figures stepped into view from between the houses ahead of her, emerging slowly like they weren't in any kind of hurry at all. Avery didn't understand what she was looking at.

Then her stomach dropped.

Their clothes hung off them in torn, filthy strips, skin smeared with dirt and streaked with something darker. And across each of their foreheads, carved or painted in something thick and uneven, was a single letter...a W.

They were smiling but not normal smiles. Not anything close. Like their faces had forgotten how to do anything else.

One of them held a machete loosely at his side, the tip dragging against the pavement with a faint scraping sound. The other gripped an axe, his fingers twitching restlessly around the handle as if he couldn't keep them still.

Avery's feet wouldn't move. Her pulse slammed hard against her ribs, her body caught somewhere between freezing and running, neither one winning out.

"Hi," one of them said, his voice light, almost playful.

The other let out a quiet, breathy laugh, tilting his head as he looked at her like she was something interesting he'd just found.

"Look at this one," he murmured. "Just standing there."

Avery forced herself to take a step back, then another. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her knife. I should've brought my gun, she thought.

"Don't," she said, though it came out softer than she wanted.

They didn't stop. If anything, they slowed even more, like they were enjoying it.

"Where you going?" the one with the machete asked, the blade scraping along the ground as he walked. "We just got here."

Avery's eyes flicked behind her, searching for something, an open path, a person, anything. But there was nothing, and when she looked back, they were closer.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, trying to steady her voice, trying to sound like she wasn't terrified.

The one with the axe grinned wider, if that was even possible. "Neither should you." The other one laughed, louder this time, the sound sharp and wrong in the quiet street.

Avery took another step back, her heel catching slightly against the edge of the curb. She faltered for half a second. That was all it took, because they saw it.

"Careful," the machete one said, his tone almost amused. "Wouldn't want you falling'."

Without saying anything to each other, they shifted. Spreading out to cut her off.

Her grip on her knife tightened until her knuckles ached. Her breathing came quicker now, uneven, her chest rising and falling too fast.

"Look at her," the one with the axe murmured, circling slightly, just enough to block any escape. "She thinks she's going to fight."

"Maybe she will," the other said, tilting his head again. "Maybe she won't."

Avery swallowed hard, her throat dry.