Little Max

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Max... was abandoned by his own damn mother in the apocalypse.
Now, he's sitting in his old treehouse, ready to be eaten.
For once, Max was afraid. He's small and frail, he's just a snack to those things. Max was only 9 years old. He almost started to cry, but the fact that noise attracts the walkers, he didn't. Max also had a large cut on his arm, but he bandaged it pretty good. Did Max have food? Yes, but he couldn't bring himself to eat.

"Hello?" A voice came from the little walkie talkie that Max had.

"D-dad?!" Max said loudly in the radio.

"Sorry kid, I'm not your dad,"

"Oh God damn it!" Max said very embarrassed.

"MAX?!" The other end spoke.

"You have got to be shitting me, DAVID?!"

"Yeah Im david, are you safe?! Are you hurt?!"

"I'm fine!"

"That's good"

"Where are your parents?!"

"My mom was out with her friends and my dad was on a business trip."

There was a moment of silence.

"BEHIND YOU!"

David gets tackled by the walker and he kicks the walker off of him. Max runs to david and clings a hammer to his chest.

David grabs the hammer out of Max's hands and hits the walker in the head over and over. Blood spatters everywhere. Max's jaw dropped.

"That was.... badass..."

"Hi there..."

"Did you kill it?"

"I don't know."

"David! Look at all of the supplies I fo- Max?!"

"Gwen?!"

"Poor thing, you look starving"

"I have food in my tree house, but I want to come with you guys. I- I don't wanna be a-alone."

Max said, shaking.

"I was gonna make you come with us anyway." Gwen said.

"Let's go to the tree house." Max said.

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