CHAPTER 1: FATE IN A STRANGER

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"Another day of hell." Shawn whispers as he scoops out some beans from a can that's been laying around in this trailer for the pass 4 years. Slowly he walks over to the window where he saw a dead body lying beside a tree.

"Guess that's a walker." Emptying the can in his mouth, the teen grab his bagpack and gun ready to go out. Slowly and quietly he opens the door, he then slides his gun in his pouch and reach to his boot, pulling out his knife. Arriving beside the dead body he stoop down and ask...

"Your dead, right?"

The body slowly began to move and groan, stretching it's hand towards him.

"Wrong move." He comments jamming his knife into it's head. As the blood splashes and began running down his hand he smiles. Then got to his feet and look around.

"Okay, I think this is gonna be a good day...." he continues slipping the knife back in his shoe. "....To an extent atleast."

Now feeling confident, he put on his black hat with the front plate red then threw his hood over it. He then plants his hands in his pocket as he walks down the path. Further down he saw his car. A black mustang. He opens the door and throws his bag over to the back of the car then got in. Feeling the wind blow on his skin, he could tell walkers were in the area. At this point it's like his spidey sense. Entering the key into the car, it made a loud but shudding noise to his ear.

"This car won't last, I need to hurry and get to Richmond."

Pressing on gas, the car sped off then took a quick turn to the right to the main road. For a quick minute he took his eyes off the road to wine down the car window. Nothing is better than a car moving at 125 Miles per hour with the wind hitting his face he always thought. Driving at nearly top speed he was really suprise to not see any walkers or abandon vehicles in the way. It peaked his curiousity. With his hand on the steering he glismped a symbol that was burned into his right arm when this apocalypse all started. It was a marking resembling a sun, it brought back a lot of bad memories for a quick minute. Focusing back on the road he noticed a gas tank symbol further down a path to his right. He imediately slow down the car and slowly parked it on the side of the road.

"Haaaa." He exhaled with relieve. No walker was in sight.

"Another mile and this thing is gonna be screaming for gas. Gotta refill and stack up." Exiting the car he murmured.

He checked his gun for ammo then look at his boot where he saw his knife, with a smile on his face he turned his hat backwards. Emptying his bagpack in the back seat then began walking. Strolling down the path he made it to the gas station with no difficulty. He slowly open the door. Silence plague the insides, which made him feel uneasy. The door was in between two huge glass windows, with one completely shattered. There was hardly any food but he found enough to pack his back for one trip. Inside was a mess, like some type of hurricane came through here. Now all that's left was gas, he began to search for a huge tank to store the fuel in. Without realising it, he accidently kicked an empty can. Just by rolling it cause a lot of noise before Shawn quickly caught it rendering the store quiet again. Instantly he began to hear growling from a room behind the cashier counter.

"Not the time...." he mumbled ignoring it. Eventually he found a huge tank to store the gas in, it was red and a little bigger than a brief case. Turning his focus back to the room, he notice he's hearing the walker but not seeing it. Sure to him that was a good thing but he still felt uneasy. He slowly entered the room only to see a walker in chains.

"Guessing your a raider that got betrayed, huh?" He says inspecting the walker, feeling alittle sympathetic. "I know the feeling."

Further inspecting the walker he realised it had a tattoo on it's neck, the same symbol as his.

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