The Survivalists

-Chapter 7-

"Tahlia? Tahlia, where did you go yesterday evening? I saw you run out the gate." 

Tahlia turned to be met with the pixie faced girl, Olidia. Her long blonde hair and caramel brown eyes both moved rapidly as though they were suddenly disturbed deeply by her actions. 

"What?" Tahlia questioned back, moving a stray piece of hair from her eyes as she moved her hand upwards to feel the messy bun was still in place. 

"Yesterday. Where had you gone? It was in the evening." 

Tahlia looked downwards at the thick snow. 

"Oh, it was nothing. I went out to fetch some water. I was chased in the forest..by an Infected." 

Olidia gasped, eyes wide and mouth ajar. "Now, you're leaving again?" She whispered sharply with a scolding expression on her face. "What makes you so ignorant?" 

Tahlia stiffened, glaring a hole into the snow. If her expression had been any more heated, she might have melted the entire winter wonderland. 

Tahlia shook her head and let out a hot sigh into the frigid air, earning a large puff of steam. 

Tahlia grabbed the other girls arm and pulled her out of the main walk-way briskly, pulling her inbetween two buildings. "Don't tell my mother or my father, understand?" 

"You didn't tell them?" 

"No, and you won't either. The Village will become worried about the population of them in the forest. There isn't a reason to be though..I was simply unarmed." 

"Unarmed?" 

"Olidia! Promise me, please.." 

Olidia looked deeply into her eyes, turning away in frustration. "What makes this so important? Maybe we should stock up on water and food, then close the gates. Maybe we should." 

"No, we musn't!" Tahlia replied quickly, pressing a hand against the other female's shoulder quickly. "Olidia, believe me when I say that there is no reason to frightened." Tahlia replied softly befor exiting the space between the brick buildings and exited into the street, and then out into the thick forest of a winter's morning. 

Tahlia pushed leaves from around her, the frozen tips stinging her gloveless hands, but she didn't mind any. She continued on, looking about, hoping, praying perhaps, that someone would come. Someone in a black hood..

A black cloak.

"Cloaked man?" She murmured, feeling the words on her tongue and decided it sounded too dehumanizing, even if it did contain man in the phrase. It seemed rude to call someone that, when obviously they would have a name.

She traveled to the left of where she decided was about where she had begun to run from the Infected. She continued on quickly but soon slowed down to nothing but a crawl. 

What if, perhaps, this building or village she dreamed of didn't even exist? What would happen if perhaps this man killed her for being too curious? Her mother had warned her that other, less understanding and more violent villages, would kill others they didn't recognize on the spot. Wether Infected or not.

They had no mercy or apathy.

She bit her bottom lip, looking longingly at the forest brush set out before her, and with a questioning heart, she continued. 

Until suddenly. A rustle.

A rustle of some leaves and a soft groan.

She turned and her eyes widened, remembering with a bit too much of vividness at the chase scene and close encounter with death that she had. 

It's eyes were suddenly visible, and once more. 

She ran. 

Heart thumping, adrenaline shooting. That horrible screeching. It all become real again. She exposed her gun and looked for trees in her way possibly. None. 

She turned sharply, the gun outstretched. 

It roared again, teeth sharp and full of flesh. It came at her even faster, turning into a full hearted sprint, wanting to sink it's teeth within her youthful flesh. 

She pulled the trigger and a shot rang out, piercing it's arm. 

It slowed it, but did not kill it. She turned and moved away form the trees, turning, shot again. 

It's nose. 

She looked feverently at the gun, turned, shot again. 

So close..it's ear. 

A flash of black. A flash of silver. A piercing slash of metal through bone. 

Him again. 

She stopped and took a breath, her head pounding from the flashes crossing her gaze throughout her small battle. She could almost taste death..that rotting feeling in her heart melted away with the comfort that black cloaked figure brought her. 

"You again." She whispered coming forward forcefully with a small quirky smile on her face, but it dropped just as quickly upon seeing his bowie knife dipped in blood. 

He turned his head only slightly before bending over the body, decapitating the already dead Infected with his bowie knife. 

She blinked momentarily, letting out a soft breath of air. "What're you doing?" 

He said nothing, allowing silence to continue the conversation, and then set to cutting open the top of the skull. 

"He's dead." 

"It's dead." He corrected, allowing the two words to fall out from his lips. 

Her eyes widened slightly. It was a start. "What do you mean?" 

"It's not a human, you need to use the word it. Not he." 

She gave him a bewildered look but said nothing as she watched him rip the brain from his head with ease, setting it in the damp grass and then quickly removed his shirt with a single slice of the knife down the side hem. 

Then wrapped it up as though it were a present. 

"What're you going to do with that brain?" 

"That's none of your concern. Go home, don't come into the forest again. It's too dangerous for you." 

"I could have killed it." 

He turned and walked slowly, the crunch of leaves beneath his feet echoing through the forest like the large central church in her village. 

She shook her head and stepped forward, "What's your name?" 

He didn't respond. 

"You're not from my village, are you? Where are you from?" 

He once more, said nothing in return and suddenly, as though seized with urgency, sprinted through the forest. 

She didn't move. 

She had a feeling, that the forest wasn't big enough to conceal both of them forever. At some point..he would be there again. Then that time, surely, she would persuade him to talk. 

Another village might lie somewhere..?

It could very well be her chance. Her chance to move on somewhere new. Somewhere fresh. Somewhere, anywhere, but here.