Newt imagines 2

Biter

Your boyfriend grabs your wrist pulling you away, you look behind and dig your heals into the grit. "Get off of me." You scream drawing deadly biting attention to you.

"No! We are not gonna go in there to look for some stupid dead girl!" He yells pulling your face close to his to make his point, spit covers your face.

"My sister!" You snap back. He lets go of you and slaps you across the face. You stagger back clasping your stinging cheek.
"Open your eyes! Your sister is dead! No one can survive that." He gestures to the city.

You look behind again, the city had fallen, fire ravages the remains of houses and cars, yet dead civilians aimlessly wandered round and somewhere in there was Emilie, your five year old sister. You turn to your boyfriend behind him are the lonely moans of a biter, it's a woman, she stumbles forwards one arm outstretched. Your boyfriend, Troy, draws his hunting knife silencing the biter with a swift stab in the head. The biter falls lifeless to the ground, you bite your lip and look away. That wouldn't be your sister, she was still alive somehow, you knew it.
"Well I'm going anyway, I don't need you. Good luck getting out without me." You say trying to keep a straight face. You saw the panic in his eyes and had to turn away to hide a smile, you don't need him, but, oh boy, did he need you, he wouldn't survive a day without your brains. You adjust the string on your bow, sling it over your shoulder, double check the two hunting knives strapped to your waist belt and the emergency one in your boot. "No guns, no noise, we go in, get her and come back out." You state.
You run up the hillside above the city staying low, travelling like a mouse, you end a couple of stray biters in your path. At the top of the hill is a newly built housing estate which probably holds around a hundred 'what once were people'. Just below lies the boarding school your sister belonged too. You crouch by the edge of the first house, peeping around the corner are about ten, maybe more, biters all walking down the hill into the city. Troy scurries to your side. "Ok, she's dead, let's go." He whispers, but you shake your head and move to the next house. You do this slowly making a zigzag pattern darting across the road, house to house, staying behind the pack of biters. The less confronting them, the better the chances of survival.

Your getting near the bottom of the hill when the biters all seem to be held back, you check round the corner of the current house your behind. "Shit!" You hiss. The biters have all stopped because there is nowhere to go, the entrance gate is padlocked shut. Think of the situation like being caged by a pack of lions suffering from starvation and the only way out is behind them.

"What's wrong?" Troy whispers in your ear, his broad frame pressing down on you as he looks round, his face switches to white and sweat forms on his brow. "I'm not going through that." He shakes his head.

"Fine stay here, I'll go." You say, God he is a coward.

"No your not leaving me!" He grabs you digging his nails into your wrist.

You tighten the hold on your bow. "I'm going stay if you want." You eye him up amazed that he could be so chicken. "It will only take me a minute or two to pick that lock,OK? You need to stop me being eaten alive."

He drops his hold and nods his head gulping. You nock up an arrow, draw the string and take down the nearest biter, the bow was so quiet the others didn't notice their companion fall down dead, like he should be. You shoot down as many as possible until your out of arrows. You face Troy one more time, staring him in the eye telling him somehow he needs to be a man. Drawing a small hunting knife, with a blade of at least 15cm, you run plucking your arrows out of lifeless bodies.
Like a pack of dogs they sniff you coming slowly turning in hope of a fresh meal, you feel Troy's heavy footsteps as he runs right behind you. Stab, stab, slash, splat. It was like a dance weaving in and out getting near their heads and ending their life like it should have. You fall to your knees, slipping a pin from your hair and starting on the lock. "Y/n." Troy hisses.