It had been a long week for Kerri Fowler. It seemed like no matter which direction she went hordes of the dead blocked her way. The countryside had been relatively safe in the beginning, right after the outbreak, but now it was as if the walkers were leaving the larger cities in search of food. It had become so bad that at night she had taken to sleeping in trees and tying herself to large branches just to catch one or two hours of sleep.
She was exhausted, dehydrated, and completely overwhelmed by the stifling Georgian heat and humidity. At this particular moment she was wandering down a dirt road that was thankfully shaded by thick trees and brush on either side. Her current goal was to find water and refill each bottle she carried her pack. Sighing, Kerri paused for a moment, using the back of her hand to wipe her sweat-soaked hair off her forehead. She was tempted to sit on the side of the road and rest awhile but she quickly decided against that, knowing she should use whatever daylight was left to find water.
She moved forward, following the same dirt road and it rose ahead of her into a sloping hill. Climbing the hill was a struggle in her current state and by the time she reached the top she was bent over with her hands grasping her kneecaps as she huffed and puffed, trying to pull valuable oxygen into her lungs. When she finally caught her breath, she straightened up, using her hand to shield her eyes from the bright afternoon sunlight. And what she saw at the bottom of the hill instantly improved her mood a hundred percent.
There was a bridge! It was rickety and quite dilapidated, but a bridge none the less. And bridges meant water, something Kerri desperately needed. A smile crossed her face, something that hadn't happened in what felt like forever and she quickened her pace to a half-jog until she reached the bridge. Peering down, Kerri saw a small river flowing gently along. The water looked clean enough and the thirst that she had been pushing to the back of her mind flared up, prickling angrily in her throat.
Kerri turned and looked around, checking her entire surrounding ensuring that none of the dead had wandered too close while she had been distracted by the prospect of something to drink. Surprisingly, there wasn't a single rotting creature in sight and Kerri breathed a sigh of relief. She slowly lowered herself down the embankment, until she was standing right beside the water. Swinging her pack from her shoulder, she dug around until she found several empty plastic water bottles and the silver canteen she had swiped from a camping store. She squatted down and filled each of her containers before taking a swig of the chilly water.
Immediately, the stinging in her throat subsided and her body seemed to relax. However, the relief was short lived. Moans of the dead began in the brush behind her and several rotting corpses lumbered out, their skin hanging limply from their arms as they reached for Kerri. Her position crouched down by the river had put her at a disadvantage and in her rush to get to her feet, Kerri's boots slipped in the soft mud of the riverbank. She fell hard on her backside and looked up in terror as the first walker closed in.
Kerri fumbled around her waist, her fingers searching for the large hunting knife she knew was there, but by the time she grabbed it the large corpse had grabbed the toe of her boot and was pulling itself towards her.
Knife in hand, Kerri launched forward, avoiding the walker's open jaws and stabbing it in the skull. The body immediately went limp and she kicked it away from her vigorously as she heard more groaning coming from the other three walkers. Kerri leapt to her feet; she slid in the mud slightly, but managed to remain upright this time and clutched her knife in front of her body.
These walkers were large and Kerri knew she was in a poor spot to kill them all using only her knife. She had her pistol tucked in the back of jeans, but thought twice about using it, knowing that the gunfire would only bring out more of the dead. She darted forward to the walker on her left, stabbing it through the skull. Yanking her knife free she turned to stab the next walker, only to notice that four more corpse had stumbled from the tree line.
Dread filled Kerri's chest, there was no way she could fight six more of them hand to hand. She would have to use her pistol and make a run for it before any more walkers came her way. The smell of rot filled her nose as she backpedaled from the dead. Two of the corpses closed in on her and she raised her knife, stabbing the first in the eye. The second, however, was too quick, and it stumbled forward pushing Kerri to the ground with the entire weight of its body.
The force of them hitting the ground knocked Kerri's knife from her hand and she let out a scream she had been holding in as she struggled to avoid the walker's gaping mouth and long, dirty fingernails. It was in that moment that Kerri accepted her fate. She knew that even if she managed to free herself from this walker's body that there were four more right behind in that were all ready to take a bite out of her. Even though she knew death was probably seconds away, she continued to struggle. Her hands were weakly pushing the dead man's chest and torso.
And just as the walker forced itself down, mouth wide and ready to end her life, Kerri heard a whizzing noise and felt decaying, brown blood splash across her face. The whizzing noise happened four more times and Kerri heard the sounds of bodies hitting the ground. She struggled to lift the heavy body off of herself and when she finally did she sat up, her eyes searching for what had killed the walkers.
It was arrows, there was one stuck in each corpse's forehead. And the man who had shot those arrows was standing several feet away. He was tall and wearing a sleeveless vest, shaggy brown hair hanging in his face. He stared at Kerri for a moment before stepping forward to retrieve his arrows from the walkers closest to him.
"Thank you," Kerri said, still in total disbelief that she had survived. The man's eyes snapped up, their bright blue color standing out against the dirt coating his cheeks and forehead.
"Welcome," he grunted in response, ducking his head back down, pulling another arrow free.
Kerri stood up and grabbed her hunting knife, placing it back in its sheath before reaching around and making sure her pistol was still in place.
"I'm Kerrigan Fowler," she began, taking a tentative step forward and extending her hand for him to shake.
The man just looked at her hand before grabbing his last arrow, "What 'cha doing out here by ya'self?" he asked gruffly in his thick southern accent, straightening up and looking at her.
Kerri let her hand drop awkwardly by her side, "I've been alone since the beginning," she said, "The rest of my family was on vacation in Florida when everything happened and most people I run into these days aren't friendly so I keep to myself."
"I don't think tha's working out for ya," he responded, glancing down at the bodies littering the riverbank.
Kerri scoffed, "Thanks for the advice, but I don't really have that much of a fucking choice these days," she was irritated that he felt the need to critique her.
"How many walkers you killed?" he asked suddenly, his tone changing and his voice more clear.
"I don't know. I haven't really been keeping track, but if I had to guess I'd say at least two dozen, probably more," Kerri was confused by his random question, but tried to answer honestly.
"How many people ya kill?" he asked, still making eye contact, his clear blue eyes piercing into her hazel ones.
"Just two," she replied softly, breaking the eye contact and glancing down at her boots.
"Why?"
"Because they tried to kill me," she answered simply, looking back up at his face. The man seemed satisfied by her answers and shouldered his crossbow.
"M'name's Daryl," he said, "I got a camp a few miles north of 'ere in an abandoned prison. We got people, food, an' shelter."
Kerri's interest was piqued by his statement. For the longest time she had thought that all the things he mentioned were unattainable in an apocalypse and he claimed to have within a short distance. It all seemed too good to be true and Kerri's mind flashed to her previous experiences with other people in this world. None of them were good or fond memories.
"How do I know I can trust you?" she questioned, narrowing her eyebrows and folding her arms.
"Nothin' I can say is gonna make ya trust me, but I'm tellin' ya, it's better than the life ya got going for ya now," he said, once again looking at the bodies lying among the leaves.
"Alright," Kerri responded, unsure of why she believed she could trust him. She walked back to the riverside and grabbed her belonging, slinging her pack over her shoulder. When she turned, Daryl seemed surprised that she had been so accepting, but he didn't question it.
"If we leave now, we should be back 'fore dark," Daryl grunted, turning in the direction of the prison. He silently took the lead, weaving through the thick brush and trees. From time to time he would glance behind him to make sure that Kerri was still there.
Right around the time the sun was setting Daryl pushed his way through some especially thick bushes and saplings. As he did this, Kerri looked over his shoulder, gasping quietly when she finally saw the large chain link fences and the dark prison looming in the distance.
