Crossbows// Daryl Dixon The Walking Dead

Chapter 1

  'Living easy, living free
Season ticket on a one-way ride
Asking nothing, leave me be
Taking everything in my stride' 

Grey. The depressing colour swarmed the sky, blocking out all traces of light. It was supposed to be a normal day on the camp. The walkers haven't entered in months, so people assumed they would be safe there. Blake knew they weren't safe. She anticipated the walkers moves. Every one, she tracked. 

The leaves brushed against each other and rustled in the light breeze. Blake could hear the grunts and moans coming from the geeks down by the stream. Holding a pistol in both hands, she trudged through the undergrowth, looking for a bag of food and guns she packed months ago. 

"It's time to put up or shut up," she spoke to herself. She showed no emotion whilst replenishing the bullets in her pistol. She tried to repent any emotions she had left. Blake had always been taught to never be afraid or show sorrow in battle, this was an ever lasting war.  

While pulling the bag onto her back, she turned and was faced by a walker. In one swift movement she held up a knife and pushed it straight through the undead eyeball that was staring at her. She paused, realizing what she had done, helped her remember the events from when the epidemic started.

Night was falling. 

Panic stretched across her face. 

"I have to find shelter," she whispered under her breath. 

Her eyes scourged the scenery around her, searching for a path to safety. She herd a distant growl behind her, which forced her to quickly duck into the bushes behind her, waiting for the hoard of zombies to pass. 

"This won't do."

Blake herd the crackle of dying flames and turned to see that she happened upon an abandoned camp. 

To her surprise, she found an old van, whose doors had been flung open as if people were escaping something. Upon further investigation, she found frantic claw marks near the handle of the door.

She climbed inside, looking carefully for walkers. Instead, she found nothing but blood stained walls. Looking in the corner of the van, Blake noticed a camouflaged crossbow, sat with three quivers. Blake forced two of the arrow bags into her back pack, leaving one to hang on her shoulder. 

With her crossbow, locked and loaded, she pulled her coat over her knees to keep warm. She got comfy in the corner, facing the closed doors. Blake listened to the muffled moans coming from the walkers out side the metal doors. The slight echos helped her drift into an uneasy sleep.