Rachel had been alone for about a week at a guess. She hadn't eaten in three days, and had run out of water the previous night. What had made it worse, was she had found some water and gotten sick, what with no means to start a fire and boil it. And to top it off, she was lost. She wanted to fall down and sleep, but she knew if she did that, she wouldn't get back up again. So she wandered aimlessly through the woods, hoping she would come across someone, or at least make her way out.
Rachel hears a gunshot in the distance. She turns her head, not sure which direction it came from. "Hello?" She croaks, her throat dry. Rachel sways on her feet. She stumbles over to a nearby tree, leaning against it. She hears a branch snap to her left. Her first thought is the dead. "Shit!" She frowns, realising that she has no weapons of any kind, not that she'd have the strength to use any kind of weapon right now. Rachel prepares herself to run, or at least walk very fast, when she hears voices. She looks over to her left, still clinging to the tree. Two men come out of the trees. "Hello."
They stand side by side, quite obviously surprised to see anything other than the dead out here. "You lost?" One of them smiles.
Rachel nods. "Yeah."
"You don't look too good," the other one says.
Rachel shakes her head. "I'm not. I haven't eaten in days. You haven't got any water, have you?"
"Yeah, you thirsty?" He asks.
"My throat feels like sandpaper," Rachel half smiles. Her head stops spinning for a moment, and she has time to take them in. If it wasn't for the way they carried themselves, she would swear they were worse off than her. They were filthy, and had a W carved on their foreheads. "What's with the W? You in some sort of club or something?" She jests.
"Or something," one of them says. "You have anything on you?"
Rachel holds her arms out to her sides. She almost loses her balance, so resumes leaning back against the tree. "Sorry, i've got nothing."
"That's not true, everyone has something. Especially someone as pretty as yourself," one of them sneers.
Rachel stares at them both. Her heart pounds against her chest, as she realises there are other dangers in this world than just the dead. "Well, i'm sorry. I.. i don't have anything," she stutters.
"We'll just see about that," one of them smiles, making his way over to her. He pulls at her arm, and his friend comes up behind her.
"What are you doing? Get off me!" Rachel yells. She squirms in his grip, attempting to kick out at him, but it's useless. One of them pins her wrists to the ground, as the other straddles her. Rachel wriggles beneath him. "Please don't," she pleads. But he just laughs at her.
He takes out his knife, holding it up to her face. "This'll be so much easier if you don't fight."
Rachel feels the cold blade against her skin. He lowers the blade to just below her vest, then he cuts it off, tossing what's left of her vest to one side. He runs the blade down her thigh, and then up underneath her skirt.
"Noo!" Rachel screams. She squirms beneath him, her energy slowly ebbing away with every movement. She winces as he he nicks her inner thigh. "Please!" She begs.
He laughs in her face, not one ounce of sympathy in his expression. Rachel closes her eyes, not wanting his face to be the last thing she sees before she dies. The sound of a gunshot rings in her ears, and suddenly the guy straddling her collapses in a heap above her. She opens her eyes just in time to see the other W guy take a shot to the head. Rachel looks over at a pair of feet coming towards her. She flinches as he pulls the dead body off her.
"Hey," he holds his hands up. Although that's not strictly true, as she notices he only has the one. "Don't worry, sugar. I'm a lotta things, but i ain't like that." He takes off his shirt, leaving himself in just a vest. "It's alright," he assures her, holding out his shirt.
Rachel takes it and slowly puts it on, every movement a struggle.
"What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here?" He asks.
"I.. i'm lost," she croaks.
"Well no shit," he smiles. "You're lucky i was out here."
Rachel nods, then tears begin to stream down her cheeks.
He looks away from her uncomfortably. "Did you know these assholes?"
Rachel shakes her head. "No, i just met them. They're the first people i've seen in a week."
"Not much of a damn welcome wagon, is it? Makes you wonder whether there's anyone worth a shit left," he says. "Name's Merle."
She looks up at him. "Rachel. Do you have any water?"
"I don't, sugar," Merle glances down at her leg, the blood from the nick on her thigh catching his eye. He grimaces. "Are you.. hurt? Did they hurt you?"
"No. Thanks to you," she smiles. "I don't feel so good though. My stomach hurts. I drank some water, and it made me sick i think."
Merle nods. "There's a town not too far from here. Woodbury. We have a lot of people there, it's safe. You think you can walk?"
Rachel lifts herself up. "I think so," she smiles. But she speaks too soon.
Merle watches as her eyes roll to the back of her head. He catches her before she falls to the ground. "Damn," he frowns, laying her on the ground. He makes his way over to one of the W guys, stabbing them through the head. He checks their pockets, but comes up empty. Merle stands over Rachel. He shakes his head. "You gotta toughen up, sugar," he says. He kneels down, throws her arm over his shoulder and carries her through the woods.