Elena was always composed and methodical. She knew how to survive the world way before it finished. She wasn't looking for attachments, for people to call a family. Because attachments are liability, make you weak especially in this new world where...
I sat on the ground between Daryl and T-Dog, having a quiet conversation with the latter. Andrea sharpened her knife while the rest of us sat around the campfire and ate breakfast. Carol cooked some eggs and bacon, and now we enjoyed it before we planned where to search today.
Yesterday was another bust. Daryl decided he couldn't stay cramped up in the house, so he moved back to his tent. It took me nearly an hour to convince him to stay back and not look for Sophia. In the end, I had to threaten him and take his crossbow. Let me tell you, he wasn't thrilled at all.
We went to have gun training, finally. Carl was quite the shot, and so was Andrea. Seeing her smug face, I nearly exploded. Because she was fucking natural, and the only reason Daryl's alive was that she had the sun in her eyes when she took the shot.
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T and I spent five hours after the training searching another part of the forest, and it was another fucking close call for me. We trekked for hours, exchanging only necessary words when we got to the creek. T-Dog wanted to freshen up, and even though I didn't like the idea very much, I allowed him. He needed a moment to breathe, and honestly, so did I.
I have been sleeping for no longer than four hours for the past few days. Sophia was always on my mind, and I kept making plans in my head. Where to look for her next, thinking about what we missed.
So when I saw T happily splashing in the creek, I couldn't stop smiling. Water was shallow, up to his waist, and he waved at me to come. I took off my shoes and socks, just as he did, and went over to him. I washed my face and arms, enjoying the cold water on my skin. It was another hot day in Georgia, and the splash made a nice change.
Soft groans from the shore cut short our splashing exchange, and as I reached for my machete, I realized I had left it with my shoes. Not very far away from us, two walkers were coming our way. Steep hill made their pace quicker than usual. I still had my knives and took two out, throwing one of them almost instantly. T started trekking through the water to get to his weapon, and I began to follow him when something pulled hard on my ankle.
I fell facedown, swallowing some water, and tried to turn around. A burning sensation filled my lungs, and pain stung behind my eyes. I was kicking at whatever was holding me, using my fingers to get a grip on muddy sand to push myself away.
Somewhere in all that commotion, I lost my knife, but at the moment, the only thing I could think of was breathing. In the last act of desperation, I kicked again, and the pressure on my leg stopped. I pushed myself upwards, resurfacing, spitting water, and gulping the air. I couldn't hear anything around; the only sound was blood pumping through my body. I moved back as quickly as possible, reaching for another knife, when the walker launched himself at me again.
I was still barely catching my breath, terrified and disoriented. I was under the water again, holding onto the geek's shoulders as it lay on me.
