Chapter 3

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“I was alone in the beginning

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“I was alone in the beginning.” She informs me. “Got the gist of what’s goin’ on from the radio.” She fidgets with her fingers. “When people still cared.” She grumbles to herself. “It was a virus that’s spread through contamination.” She shrugs, remembering how that information didn’t help explain shit. People dying and coming back as bloodthirsty monsters? No shit it was a virus. “Everything else I figured out on my own.” She sighs. “Noise attracts them; they only go down with a head shot and some other neat tricks.” She sums up.



“What then.?” Deanne coaxes, genuinely interested in the woman’s story.



“I tried looking for my sister…” she trails off, her face void of any emotion. “…Gathered some supplies and kept moving.” She swiftly changes the subject. “Pulled over for the night to catch up on a couple of hours of sleep.” She closes her eyes, visualizing waking up with a gun in her face. “I was carjacked.” She snickers bitterly. “A man screaming for me to get out of the car and that he needed everything I had.” She breaths. “He was so scared and desperate... dumb bastard didn’t even know that the safety was still on.” She chuckles to herself.



“What did you do?”



“I gave him everything.” She answered without hesitation.



“Why?”



“It was dark, but I heard children crying a few paces away.” She answers. “I watched him and Three little ones load up in my car.” She lets out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “What’s a car, a few dozen cans, a couple of knives, and a handgun worth to me, right?” she shrugs.

“What did you do?”

“Walked.”

“Where?”

“There was one place I could go to.”

~.~

She marched up the steep hill, resting her hands on her knees and wiping her sweat-covered face with her arm. Continuing her walk again, her eyes trailed to a fenced-in lot that was all too familiar. Muertos shuffling about the open plain of grass. Reaching the fence, she threw the jacket that covered her head over the barbed wire up top. Up the chain links, throwing her leg over with the protection of her jacket.



Lowering herself to the other side and focusing on the Muertos who caught sight of her. She nicked her arm on the way down, falling ass first onto the gravel.



“Shit!” she hisses, holding her arm decorated with ribbons of red. “Fuck you!” she hissed at the snarling beings who pulled at the fence to get to her. Getting to her foot, thankful for the inner lining with chain links, she held her arm while walking to the entrance gate and unhooking the latch.

Taking a few breaths, sliding it open quickly, and making a run from the nearest guard tower. Bandaging herself up. Tearing off her t-shirt tearing off a strip tying it to her forearm with her teeth helping from the pain bolting up her arm. Balling up the little remains of her dirty t-shirt into a makeshift pillow. She laid her head down, cradling her arm, as the memories of that night awaited her.





                                                                                                                             ~.~



“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice shook her to the core.

LEAVING! She wanted to scream. RUNNING AWAY! Her lungs burned to get out, but all that came out from her mouth were frightened whimpers. Clutching the keys, metal digging into her palm. His face went red as he marched over and backhanded her to the floor. Shrieking, she held her head where it hit the hardwood.

“You think you could leave me?” He seethes, kicking and stomping her into dust. The pain was everywhere, blanketed in the warmth of blood that puddled around her. The last thing she saw was his bloodied face.

 The last thing she saw was his bloodied face

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~.~


Shooting up for the floor. Heart pounding from the momentary daymare. Glaring at the building where most of the prisoners resided.

Was he alive?

Was he dead?

Was he one of them? She asked herself Looking to the field of wandering dead.

Did he get out?

Her mind wandered, pulling a map from the wall flipping it over grabbing a marker drawing the layout of the prison. The field of Infected she decided to leave as a precaution against outsiders wanting to take her stuff. First needing a weapon. The guard station is near the main entrance. She would have to venture out for food and water, not wanting to rely on finding the cafeteria, which was in the back of the prison. With step one of her plan laid out once that was in order it was off to step two.





Finding her ex-husband

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