You're Too Young To Be So Broken

One In The Same

What the hell is this place

She thought to herself. Hesitantly she took some steps forward remembering that there were indeed people after her. Her ankle was on fire, the limp in her leg making her injury obvious. The blood from her ankle soaked her sock turning the white cloth a deep red. There were crates in front of her perfect for hiding behind to get her bearings. She fell to her knees leaning her back against one of the heavy crates. It was then she had the time to look at her ankle, at least a quick glance.

She struggled to get her breathing together knowing she could most likely be heard. Forcing herself to breathe through her nose she took a quick moment to look down. A slash in her ankle was evident, blood pooling from the wound. It wasn't deep enough to give stitches, but it would require a good cleaning and bandaging.

All of which is impossible to get done now. She inched a bit to her right peeking from behind the crate. She just needed to get one of them in her sights, then she could figure out what the hell she was going to do. Ever since that goddamn bounty was put on her head her life had been ten times harder than what it was.

When the right side had nothing to offer she shuffled to her left. She had to admit the lingering thought that Cocoa might make a sound made her stomach turn. There would be no way for her to tell, but it was still a valid fear she felt.

"Stay quiet." She signed to her cat, who's head then retreated back into the bag. Clem smiled, smart kitty.

Her vision would prove to be her best friend, spotting a lone shadow moving in front of her. From the way the shadow presented itself he was facing forward, walking toward her, sooner or later he'd reach her so she took steps back, circling around the crates, her eyes trained on his shadow. Reaching behind her she pulled a knife from her sheath, her gun placed safely in the back of her pants. No noise.

Her backpack was holding precious cargo so she sat it down hoping Cocoa would stay inside while she took care of the guy. Softly her footsteps trekked behind him, her grip on the knife steady as she propelled herself forward jumping on the man's back and sliding the knife across his throat. It was a clean cut, straight from one end of his neck to the other.

He didn't get a chance to scream, barely had any time to react before he was choking laying flat on his back in a puddle of his own blood. He was dead within seconds, and Clem was already picking up her bag and gun when she spotted another figure in her peripheral. They were coming up the stairs, in pairs maybe. Quickly she made her way back to her backpack strapping it around her shoulders.

Think. Be Smart.

The walkers reached for her, their hands lightly brushing against her arms as she made her way to the third floor. She thought maybe she'd get a better look from up above. Sinks with dried blood was the first thing she noticed, stains she was sure would be hard to get out. It stunk of death, body parts laying abandoned on the ground and counters. But unlike what she had seen before, these parts were human, not walker bits.

The pain in her ankle raged causing her to wince something awful. The longer she stood on it the worse it seemed to get. She took cover behind one of the tall sinks, her hand sliding against fresh blood.

Ew.

She headed toward the balcony looking between the gaps spotting one man down below. The same floor she had come from. Apparently he had just found his friend screaming for the others she was sure would come running. She circled around them from the upper floor keeping her eyes trained on them. She reached inside her bag remembering she had those same knives Carver had trained her with.