She heard them long before she saw them huddled around their tiny campfire. A woman, and a boy burrowing his face into her chest, a dark haired college aged boy with his arm around a frightened looking girl, an old man hugging a teenaged girl who looked like she had been crying, a woman with short hair and a scowl on her face, a large black fellow who looked friendly enough, albeit concerned, and another man, standing in front of them, looking irate. Nine people, in total. Their group was somewhat hidden inside what looked to be what was left of an old house. The stone walls encased them for the most part, except for a few gaps, and a wide hole where a tree had begun to grow. A good hiding spot, she thought, but only for a short time. They didn't seem to realize how loud they were being, that they were making themselves easy targets for any wandering zombie that might have been near. If they didn't quiet down they would be hiding there for a lot less time than they had probably planned.
"I killed my best friend for you people!" The irate looking man was yelling to the others.
The leader? She thought. He looks like a crazy person. And who yells like that in the middle of the night out in the open? Does he wantto be eaten?
The decision to approach them was becoming increasingly difficult. They clearly weren't in the mood for visitors, and might even be the type to shoot her on sight. But they were eating and she was starving, so much so that she was almost willing to risk being shot for one small bite of whatever was in those tin cans. The woman with the child was the only thing really keeping her from walking away from them right then.
No one would shoot an innocent person in front of a child, would they?
But she just couldn't be sure because she didn't know these people. And she had already seen her fair share of desperate people doing terrible things. Terrible, unspeakable things that she wished she could erase from her memory already.
She shook her head, it was too risky. Starving to death in the woods or being eaten alive couldn't be much worse than what she had already witness. Those choices seemed almost lavish compared to being shot on the spot, or worse, being invited to stay only to be betrayed again.
She gripped her hatchet tight and turned to the forest behind her. It was dark and freezing cold but she would have to make do. Find a tree or something to hide in. Try to sleep.
"…NOT A DEMOCRACY…" She heard the man yell.
Sighing, she turned for one last look at the warm fire, the real living people, and the food. But instead of firelight dancing on the stone walls she was met with the barrel of a gun.