Oblivion {n.h.}

Chapter 56.

PERRIE'S POINT OF VIEW: (this is annoying yes I know.)

Thomas and I venture out, only the two of us and our weapons while we tire our feet along the wide open highway.

No vehicles available to us, Thomas had suggested we stay on foot until we find something that actually works, only if for a few hours.

No sign of anyone let alone our group, only a few lonely walkers and crows.

The cold wind blows on my back as we venture south, arriving to a town soon, and my head still throbs with pain as Thomas supports my weight, slowing us down just a bit more than needed.

My hair pulled up in a messy ponytail the ice on the ground disappears reluctantly, and my hair is wet with snow that once used to be frozen.

Thomas goes on and on about himself and Lewes and things I didn't think mattered anymore.

"You are probably the most positive person I've ever met." I look at him, my mouth slightly open as my blue eyes stare at his face, and he smiles charismatically.

"Well how do you think I've survived this long?" He chuckles, looking at me just as I did him.

"True, your face is too ugly to be eaten, probably scared everyone away– especially the walkers." I joke, knowing very well that the guy with his arm around my neck is very very far from ugly.

"Wow," he chuckles boyishly, his smile not fading one bit, "ouch."

"You love me." I push off his chest a little bit playfully, yet still needing his arm to support my fragile and wounded body.

Even with my playful tone, Zayn lurks in the back of my mind and the flirty words I use toward Thomas hurt my heart.

"Yeah I think–" He spoke before being interrupted by the vroom of a car coming toward us from around the corner of the small town before us.

Quickly, Thomas gets to the side, pulling me along with him, diving behind the barrier of the highway, only to peek over at our first visitors ever since we'd left London.

The car screeches to a stop, just a few feet away from where we just stood seconds before, and a door slams, revealing a tall and lean woman holding a megaphone at her side.

I was relieved to see the middle-aged woman instead of one of Reed's people, although this may still be a trick.

"You can stop hiding, we aren't going to hurt you." The woman calls through the megaphone, echoing the plains around us for miles. "But I can't trust that you won't hurt me, put your weapons down please."

Thomas slowly stands up from where we hide behind the concrete, and I tug on his shirt, trying to pull him back down to safety, but he stands too strong for my petite hands and his toned body.

He raises his hands as she commanded, and takes out his gun along with a few knives from his back pocket, placing them in the road just over the barrier, before looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to do the same.

Releasing the machine gun from around my neck and setting it by his weapons quickly, I become very annoyed at our situation.

"Thank you." The tall brunette calls at us and removes the megaphone from in front of her mouth, letting it fall to her side where it hangs on a chain.

"I'm Brandy Stetson, former police officer and retiree from the British Air Force." She raises her hands in the air, giving us her trust.

My eyes flick to Thomas, who is staring at her just as I, and an awkward silence just sits upon us like fog.

"You wanna tell me your names?" Brandy asks, removing the megaphone from her lips and raising an eyebrow or two at both Thomas and I.

I glance to Thomas again, but this time he glances at me also.

"Perrie, Perrie Edwards." I speak loudly, giving Brandy my information to push out the conversation.

"Thomas Ameen." The boy states from beside me, his American accent strong in tone with both Brandy and I's British accents, and he's obviously still unsure of who Brandy is and why she's still trying to speak with us; the same things I wouldn't mind knowing either.

"You may be wondering why I've stopped to take the time to talk to you," Brandy starts, and I nod my head at her first sentence, "I'm from a community down South, the gatherer is what they call me."

Thomas straightens from beside me, and my ears perk up just a bit more at the woman's words.

"I go out and gather people for the community."

"I know what a gatherer is." I interrupt the woman's speech, thinking about Allison and how she does the exact same thing Brandy is trying to explain me. "And how do you trust us? We could be totally insane people and you just start up a conversation with them?" I ask her, wanting ever so eagerly to cross my arms, although I know how that'd look like pure ignorance.

"I think if you were one of the bad guys I'd already be shot dead by now." The woman chuckles, "Besides, I'm not alone." She looks to the driver's seat window of her vehicle, and it rolls down slowly, revealing an older man, somewhere around her age, he doesn't say a word, just sits there with his hand on his chin, and looks to Brandy for her to speak once again.

"May I ask where your community is?" Thomas changes the subject, and the twinkle of hope in his eye still sparks in my chest.

And with those two words, Brandy speaks "Lewes, England."

With that we left with her, no doubt in our minds that this was our chance, the others already on the way there, this is where we needed to be.

Brandy cleaned me up on the way there, because apparently that fall was nastier than we thought, but the one thing I couldn't help but notice was that Thomas's eyes never left me, not once for the whole ride home.