In the Dead of Autumn

The turtle stared at her in apprehension.

The woman stared back.

Finally, the woman spoke.

"I'm not really sure how you've survived this long. Did somebody take care of you last winter or something?"

The turtle did not respond. It was a turtle.

Together they sat in the grass of a central courtyard. A slight chill was in the air, and the courtyard's lonely maple tree was just beginning to change in color. The courtyard was very simple, and the only other feature besides the maple tree was a wooden picnic table that had seen better days.

"Somebody must have moved you here from one of the classrooms. You must've been a class pet or something. I really doubt this was your original home."

The turtle did not respond.

The woman stared at him pensively for a few more moments, before reaching over to pick him up. On instinct, the turtle scrunched his head back into his shell. She turned the turtle over in her hands and inspected him.

"You are one hardy fucking turtle. Somebody tried to chew on you! I guess they must've given up though. Didn't know they can do that, but hey, I've seen bigger surprises."

The turtle didn't understand or care what the woman was saying. He just wanted to be let go now, please.

Placing him back on the ground in front of her, the woman stood up.

"Then again, they might've just been interrupted. There's a zumble corpse inside near the door. Maybe that's the one that was trying to getcha."

She walked over to the picnic table, where an army backpack sat on one of the seats. It was worn and stained. A couple of the stains looked to just be dirt, but most of the stains were clearly from blood. Around the zippers there were streaks of bloodstains from when bloody hands had reached inside the backpack, and on the whole face of the back were irregular spatters. The woman opened the backpack with clean, bare hands, and fumbled around inside. It seemed as though she was trying to move things aside.

"I'm going to bring you back to the settlement with me. I bet Abby and the kids will get a kick out of you. And you'll have a place to be when winter comes around."

Pausing, the woman looked up from the backpack. She gazed unseeing at a point in front of her.

"Hmm. I haven't finished checking out the obvious places around here yet, though. And that is what I came here to do. Plus, if there's trouble around, I'd prefer to scout it out before traipsing through the high school with a turtle in my backpack."

Slowly, the woman turned to look at the turtle, which had come out of his shell. She considered him for a bit.

"You've been okay for months. I don't see any problem with leaving you here for an hour or two."

The turtle did not respond. He was busy making his way over to a patch of crabgrass nearby.

Turning back to the backpack, the woman took out a utility knife and a pair of gloves. While the knife was pretty battered, the gloves looked as though they might be the woman's prized possession. In comparison to her belongings and the clothes she was wearing, which were all practical but in a state of disrepair, the gloves looked brand-new. They were black, made of some sort of microfiber polyester material, and had metal studs embedded in the knuckles. The woman stuck the knife into a makeshift sheath attached to her belt, and put on the gloves. Zipping up the backpack and slinging it over her shoulder, the woman turned to the turtle with a smile.