The Ruins

Chapter 3

She raised her gun, cocking the hammer but he immediately scurries out of her distance. She then full-on fledge chased him, leaving Edward behind. With her training of endurance from the Flyer Frontiers, she was the fastest trainee in their community, no one can catch her up.

The adrenaline increased her blood to boil up to her whole body, the long thick wavy dirty blonde hair flowed out of her face, and the pounded of her feet travelled throughout her tone muscles as she enjoys running and trying to catch him as prey.

He stops for a second- his mistake, she grinned. Looking back, he chose to sprint to the right, which made her smirk more of his failure as an escapee. She turns the corner of a small corner alleyway with Fitzgerald cursing, aggressively shaking the metal fence. He jumps in fright to see Mal stand there smirking devilishly with her hand above her holster. He is so petrified she could laugh his idiotic blubber face. What makes it better for her, he starts to sprint when Edward finally catches up, swinging a crowbar at his fat leg and he lands forehead first.

Slowly stalking up, her leather boot lifts off some strands of grimy brown hair then pushes a pinch into the cheek, getting a growl. She kneels down to stare down at his eyes: anger shown through his face although his eyes are scared, Mal accommodates. "Fitzgerald..." She says in a innocent tone, "I thought that you'll be in better shape since you been a pretty sneak on the Tradepost." She said.

"...I-I didn't do anything-" Said Fitzgerald. She flicks her eyebrows, pursing her lips together, signaling Edward to do his job. His job is he kneels down, grabbing Fitzgerald's arm and bending it outward, earning a despair scream. Mal cocks her head more and gives an cold stare.

"Didn't do anything?" She breathes in and exhales heavily, slowly drawing out her red machete, lifting it cautiously, tempting to make Fitzgerald squirm away her grasp. "You know what you did! I know you were a Flyer Frontiers; surprised you have lived a lot longer. Can't imagine you have such luck of meeting Bounty Hunters or survivors, they wouldn't hesitate to kill you. You will still be them. No. Matter. What.

"You'll always lie, corrupt everyone's outpost into rumble. So you come to the Tradepost, a valuable place where the Eleven Towns, the Famous Infected people including the Bounty Hunters, and survivors come, deal, sell, and trade on reasonable accounts. And what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO!"

She threw the machete down on the ground, a tinning sound echoed Fitzgerald ears and he screamed in fright, desperate for Mal to show some mercy and Mal just in delight on the inside. She couldn't believe how pathetic he is, stealing something is pretty sneaky but how can he be so smart. He's so weak . . . vulnerable.

He quivered at Mal's fury and she becomes more furies that he hasn't answered so she takes a step notch and slams the machete repeatedly at a steady rhythm, gaining him to be more scarce. Pretty ugly tears poured out, whines of a little puppy came out into a blubbering cry.

God, Mal was getting to enjoy this.

"TELL ME!" She yells in a authoritative tone.

"I STOLE IT! I STOLE THEM ALL!" He cries, hiding his face into the ground.

She sighs in desire to finally hear his pleads. "That's right, you stole our medicine, stole some livestock. And when you ran away, you almost let a fire burn our pig farm which that is a big mistakes." Grabbing his hair forcefully, she pulls his head up and she leans in close to his ear. "If I ever you see back there, I won't spare your life this time. Got it?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Mal..."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

They get to the highway of an old quarantine gate where straight forward leads into the middle of the lush, disoriented city. He gives her a bunch of gas for her home trip back to Tradepost. She felt too embarrassed to have these supplies since everything they have is scarce. And she didn't want to be too rude amongst Edward's appreciation of her fixing the problem between the scraps and Tradepost. "I can't, you need it more. I have lots."

He lowers his head; she couldn't help it. "It's a great gratitude of dealing our problems." He smiles, not a happy smile, more of an insisting smile so she takes the can. "You sure no wants to come along?"

Head lowers in grief, shaking slowly. "These people are not themselves. They rather face death than to live another life. Others can face life but..." He stopped himself.

"What?" she replied.

He leans in close; Mal takes a step back, her heart started to beat a bit faster. Her body shivered as those horrors came back, making her want to hurl. No, no, he's not like him. He's... different. He can't think of her like that. But all men are the same, came a sinister voice inside her head. She hoped he hasn't notice and Edward didn't occur her reactions.

"The Tradepost isn't exactly a secured place. Rumors of the men working in different sections are joining in a different group, leaving the Tradepost at a thin needle, and the leader is avoiding it all. It might crumble-"

"I won't let that happen. The Eleven Towns and other communities is important to have the Tradepost, it's the center for supplies and sanctuary. If you heard these rumors, I'll put a stop to them." He raises his hand and as the touch of his hand holds hers, Mal tries her best to stay calm.

She was too busy focusing on the hard grip on his hand and then an arm wrapped around her waist forcing her against a hard body of a hug, but Mal didn't think of it as a hug. Her heart pounding, a cold sweat dragged over her as she struggled to get out of the grip, her breath crushed out of her with the force of a punch. Fear slammed into her body, muffled voice surrounded her but the only one she could hear was the dark voice whispering in her head. The grip on his arm turned punishing, nails digging in deep, the sharp pain that had nothing on the terrifying grip on her heart. Her body screamed for air that she couldn't drag into her lungs. Her own voice cried out amongst the rest, pleading for a mercy she knew wouldn't come.

She took her moment when the grip eased, pushing the man away from her. Mal almost tripped and stumbled on the ground as she made her escape, she didn't stop until she was away from him. She tried to claw breath back into her lungs.

Hesnothimhesnothimhesnothim she tried to remind herself. The mantra did nothing to quell the fear roaring inside of her. She could feel him, feel the digging grip; she dragged up her jacket sleeves and was shocked to see nothing there. Just pale skin made slightly red where the man had gripped her. Edward.

He's not him.

At this point, she walks away, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. She wanted to deny the overwhelming relief that shuddered through her. Embarrassment warred with that relief; she'd much such an idiot out of himself. Good he hasn't notice and didn't have to face him again and even explain after freaking out like that?

When she looks back, her breathing finally calmed down, heart in normal rate and her mind was clear although, change into a different subject as she look at the streets.

Still disheartens Mal to see people in this state of physicality. Weak and disabled, no set of mind to work themselves to eat, drink, or work for survival. The eyes read of sorrow and loss; Mal hated every single person who ever believed in the Flyer Frontiers.

Mal continues walking into the deep part of the ruined city.