𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗 𝙾𝚏 𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚝𝚝𝚘 𐂃

Chapter 13

Thirty minutes. One hour. Two. Maybe even more. The adrenaline mixed with hopelessness and despair played a large part in one's sense of time. The march of the dead felt drawn out and seemed to go on and on. However long the stampede of the army lasted, it didn't feel as if it would end. But it did and that's when everything went still. The silence returned to the woods and even with the quiet hanging on goose bump covered skin, the maddening feel of the terrifying horde that raged like a plague through pores and bones.

Blue eyes dazedly stared at nothing in particular. His wide chest undulated in up and down movements from heavy breathing. All the reason for setting off this catastrophic beast of death and despair came flooding in and Ben's body chemistry frayed. He felt his chest grow heavier from the invisible weight of his actions.

"I-" Ben's thoughts were stuck and for a long while he slowly, but shakily twisted his head. The movement was stiff and a bit spastic when his cheek hit the soft soil and his glossy eyes tried to map out the mushed and crushed earth where the hundreds, maybe thousand of feet trampled on the earth. "I fucking made that." Ben swallowed and flinched from the scratchy feel of his dried up throat. Slowly, his muscles unclenched and his limbs twitch into action as he stiffly rolled halfway on his side, hidden underneath the frame of the derelict vehicle. Crawling out from under the abandoned construct Ben sought refuge for when the herd passed, the strength almost zapped from out of Ben's hips and legs.

"Fuck," Ben grunted under his breath feeling his stomach unclench as he forced himself up his feet. His face was pale and wet with liquids he didn't even want to guess. Finally, Ben raised his head, peeking in the area that was devoid of life-no pun intended. Now that he led those son's of bitches into chaos and off his trail, Ben could go back to the cabin and leave with the truck.

His hope of finding Joey and Dan, those pricks, fully dwindled and Ben wouldn't bother himself trying to look for them. If they were still alive, good for them, but he wasn't going to shed any tears if they were dead. Those two were the worst people he ever came across. They acted as if they owned anything and anyone under the sun, in particular women.

Whilst regaining his balance on his legs again after not using them for what felt like hours, Ben thought back to those uniform-wearing goons. Whatever they wanted, he had the uncanny sense it had to do with his partners and to that extent him. "That woman... she looked injured." Rolling his shoulders to shake down the rigidity of his muscles, Ben aggressively chewed the inside of his cheek, drawing blood. "Must've come across Joey and Dan and they- shit!" Now, Ben was positive he was being tracked which meant his life was at risk. With a severe expression he silently prayed to whatever creature still existed that the horde of walkers took them down.

-

No one says anything for a while, each person lost in their own mind. The facial expressions varied from dazed or incredulous, to shaking of the head while voicing shock and snorts of disbelief.

Cristine covered and uncovered her palms by moving her fingers up and down, as she tried to shake off the tingling. She couldn't get up yet since that same sensation of a thousand needles puncturing her nerves set in her legs. It wasn't her first time coming across a horde, but Cristine never ever did something as crazily ingenuous as what Troy suggested.

Speaking off-

Cristine finally looked up from her hands, and very slowly, very wearily stared at Troy's back. He was the first already up on his feet, full attention in the direction where the herd took off. His body tilted toward the source to aid in his observation as he cast a long focused stare at the thing that caught his interest. Just by having seen his face before the horde and times out testing with the dead, Cristine could make a drawing of Troy's expression. Cringing  at the mismatching reaction to the long-lasting madness, Cristine looked away. Her eyebrows lowered together into a tight knit as her mind replayed the teeth chattering experience.