Oh, God oh God oh God. . . .
This was not how I pictured my death.
Not at all. Most certainly not.
The sound of hissing and growling just inches behind me made a tingle shoot up my spine as I lurched forward with a squeal, cursing to myself. I just had to make noise. I was like a mouse in a snake's cage, but there were many snakes, and I was a very small, defenseless mouse with no guns and no knife.
"Jesus fuck," I hissed as I stared at the zombies who looked like they were starving, and I was their dinner. There were five. Five! I was so dead.
I tripped over a branch and cursed, my body sinking into the moist dirt and grass underneath me as I gripped the branch off of the floor. Zombies had weak, deteriorating skulls. Maybe this would be enough to stab them in the brain.
I flipped my arm up as the branch sliced through one of the zombie's skulls, blood squirting out and spurting all over my neck as I scrunched my nose up, groaning as the branch snapped after impaling the dead.
I turned to look at the tree next to me as adrenaline kicked in. I kicked a low branch off of the tree and stabbed another zombie in the eye, punching the one next to it directly in the face. I nearly got bit, but I managed to crack their skull open. I landed another punch and felt the squish of brains slather on my fist. I internally shuddered. Three down, two to go.
Scchwiip!
I jumped as a bow sliced through the eye of one of the last remaining zombies, then through the eye of the last one, knocking them both down in a matter of seconds. I whipped around, finding a man with a greying, short beard and brown, curly wavy hair. He wore a tan long-sleeved button up that cut off at the elbows, along with dark blue jeans. He had piercing blue eyes, but those weren't the eyes I was focused on. I was focused on his friend's eyes, whose were just a shade lighter. This man had messy, brown hair down to his shoulders. He wore a black vest, and black jeans.
I noticed these two men had clean clothes, despite the stains of sweat, as it was a hot day, and I felt almost primitive and out of place with my ripped tank top, caked in mud, sweat and blood and my shorts, that used to be a nice baby blue color.
I stopped admiring the two men for a moment to realize that I was standing in front of two men. I shuddered, realizing I could either be in total danger, or completely saved.
Knowing me, and this damned world, I was in total danger.
I started to back up, but the man with the greying beard stopped me.
"Woah, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you."
I eyed them nervously. "How am I to know that?"
"We just saved your life," the other man spoke sharply. Him and I locked eyes for a moment before I ripped my gaze from him, looking back at his friend.
"I know what men do in this new world. With all the rape and murder going around, I'd rather be on my way." I was nervously tapping my fingers on the edge of my shorts, force of habit since I used to carry my knife there. I swallowed hard.
"We just saw you make do with tree branches, and you're scared of us," the man chuckled. His friend, the cute one, glanced at the both of us silently, observing the conversation as if I was going to all of a sudden whip a gun out of the small amount of clothes I was currently wearing and shoot them both with it.
I blinked, then folded my arms over my chest. "It's a cruel world out there."
"How many walkers have you killed?" the man asked me. I frowned. His cute friend seemed to become alarmed by this question, as if it was something more than I thought it was.
