Allison Owen was 13 when she had no choice but to take a desperate deal with the Governor, a choice she made for the safety of her friends. Three years later, still haunted by those memories, she finds herself on the run, seeking refuge within the w...
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~ Allison's POV ~
The air had finally cooled down a bit as the sun was beginning to set. Jackson had found some berries growing in the woods for us to eat while Nina rested her leg on a fallen log. I know they needed me to make a decision before we were out in the open all night, but I just couldn't shake this feeling. Something about this place spiked a fear inside me that I can't quite place.
"Allison, we need to make a decision. We've been sat here all day, if we wait any longer to move..." Nina had trailed off at the end. No one wanted to remember why we're out here in the first place, but she's right. If we didn't move now, we'd be trapped moving in the pitch-black night.
"Okay, I go." I jumped up from the spot I was sitting at and wrapped my pack around my shoulders. "If anything happens, if I'm not back in 30 minutes, you run."
"What? Are you crazy! No- No way, you are not going down there alone." Nina darted her eyes between me and Jackson. "Jackson tell her she's insane. Were those berries poisonous; are you feeling, okay?" I let out an audible sigh and rolled my eyes at the panicked Nina standing in front of me.
"Oh my god, I am fine Nina. I am not risking bringing you two down there if its potentially dangerous. I mean look at your condition, fighting off a roamer here and there is one thing, but the living? You're not strong enough Nina and I won't leave you here alone. I'm going, that's my decision." I picked up my machete and made my way towards the clearing.
The fields were overrun by roamers, way too many for me to fight off alone. I'd have to be smart if I wanted to make it even a quarter of the way there. I slowly made my way through the tall grass, staying as low to the ground as possible. I grabbed clumps of mud and leaves as I made my way and coated my body with as much of it as I could. Growing up hunting taught me that a predator will always smell its prey. I was just praying this was enough to mask the scent of the living.
Their soft murmurs grew louder as I approached the prison. Sometimes at night in Woodbury id listen to the ones beyond the wall, every now and then I thought I heard a whisper. Almost as if it wasn't them groaning, rather them saying something, pleading to be let in. But these roamers were not whispering, they were loud, and damn were they close. I had been so lost in thought I didn't realize how close I had gotten. I was standing 5 yards away from the gate, the only thing between me and prison, was a group of 20 or more roamers.
"Fantastic" I mumbled under my breath. There was no way around them and with the noise they were making; they were bound to attract more. Just as I went to take a step, I felt it, a hand on my shoulder. I let out a yelp and fell to the ground. The roamer that had grabbed me was now on top of me. Struggling to reach for my machete, I used my hand to push his head away. Feeling the cool handle reach the palm of my hand and I swung as hard as I could. The roamer falling to the side with the force of the swing. I only allowed myself to lay there for a couple seconds before getting up and brushing myself off. The roamers had lost all interest in the fence, the sound of my struggling had attracted them to me.
