Moment

I couldn't keep track of how far I ran or how many steps I took. All I knew was survive. I had to. The feeling of abandoning all other instincts until there's nothing left but survival is one I'm quite familiar with. My curls bounced around my shoulders and some stuck to the sweat on my forehead. I wondered if I was still holding the gun I owned or if, in my panic, I had dropped it.

Behind me the moans and growls of the undead stalked me like some sort of sick parade. Only, instead of leading it, I was escaping it. My blood pounded in my ears, temples and chest. One big pulse that was pushing me along, keeping me going. Survive. The word pounded across the backs of my eyes and once again all thoughts ceased. I ran faster, I feared nothing.

There! Ahead of me, a small abandoned country railway station. The windows and front door were boarded up and I couldn't see any quick entrance into the building. Between pants, I must've taken a deep breath because I needed all the courage I could get.

I braved a peek over my shoulder. They looked like a faceless mass of eight, but sounded like sixty. They were slow though and years of running had strengthened my thin legs to stay at least fifteen steps ahead. Fifteen walker steps could buy me about forty seconds upon arrival. That's all I would have to get into the building. It would have to do. I veered slightly to the right and pushed further. My legs felt like rubber. Come on, not much farther. Almost there.

In the blink of an eye my hands felt the hot, splintered wood, rotting in the Atlanta sun. It happened so quick it took me a moment to process what I needed to do in the next thirty-eight seconds. Three boards blocking my way.

In my belt was a small hatchet. I reached for it and immediately struck the first board blocking the door. Luckily, it came away easily, chipping away and falling to my feet. I moved onto the second board. Simultaneously, in my head, I counted. Thirty-five, thirty-four, one hit to the second board, thirty-three. It was stubborn but I was forceful and, two hits later, it feel free.

I wondered if maybe I should've looked behind me but there was not time. I was so close to solace.

My desperation hit and I attacked the last board with frantic ferocity. I had lost count now and the sound of the approaching bodies and the blood in my ears combined to become the soundtrack to my panic. This board, naturally, had to be the most stubborn and I felt tiny blisters forming on my sweaty hands. Were the walkers closer? Could they be right behind me? I feared I was out of time.

"Come on!" I shouted at my seemingly mechanical hacking via my hatchet, as if it would do anything good.

Almost there. One last strike-

Hands grasped my shoulders, my waist, and my hair and pulled me backwards. Immediately I sprang into action. I gripped my hatchet differently now. It was a weapon. It was my lifeline.

I plunged it, sharp side first, into the head of the walker over my shoulder. It sunk through rotted flesh, soft flaky bone and into brain. A pair of hands immediately fell limp and the corpse returned to being dead. The reaction spurred me further and in a blur three more walkers were immobilised behind me. I had turned around now and I could see the last thing I wanted to.

I must've cried out at some point because I could see a whole new group of walkers approaching. From first glance it looked like about thirty. Too many for me to handle alone. Okay, now I really needed to get inside. But my heart was still sinking. What then?

I tried not to panic. What would Lee do? What would anyone else in this situation do? Was I frozen? Oh no, I had to move. There was no time anymore.

"Hey!" a voice? No, I must've imagined it. My panicked mind wasn't letting me think rationally.

The world slowed and I turned back to the door. Which, in a strange turn of events, was… open?

The silhouetted figure in the doorway was tall yet his face was hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat. His hair stuck down in awkward spikes.

"Hey! Come here, come in, QUICK!" he shouted. Dazed and numb, I did as he said. Finally free form the hordes.

Immediately the thick layer of dust coating everything choked me and I coughed violently. A hand rested gently on my back and patted shortly. Reflexively, I sprang away as if touched by fire. I re-positioned the gun in my sweaty grasp and pointed it into the darkness.

"Who are you?" I said. I didn't shout nor whisper but I forced as much threat into my voice for it to matter.

"That's not important right now" from his voice he was definitely a white guy. That explained the hat, "Are you hurt?" He spoke with genuine concern. His voice was young, like mine.

Mentally, I checked myself. I could feel no pain or, after a quick pat down, could feel any blood. I realised that the stranger wouldn't be able to see me nod in the darkness so I muttered a breathy "no."

He seemed to exhale a sigh of relief that disrupted the dust in the train station. I clenched the gun tighter. For some reason, I didn't trust him. He seemed too kind, too concerned.

I heard him move in the darkness but couldn't see where to. I heard rough hands across wood and considered whether he would open the door and push me out of it. But no light returned and I remained frozen in place.

"Looks pretty crazy out there" he said to me.

"How can you tell?" I took a step forward.

"There's a crack in the door but we have to be quiet" he reduced his voice down to a whisper. The dust parried again as he breathed a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I asked him. If this stranger could've seen me, he would've seen my brow furrow in frustration at his strange demeanour.

"If we're quiet enough they'll go away. They're out there and we're in here. It's like hide and seek."

I had never considered it that way. This guy was weird but he had actually made me feel a little better about the messed up situation we were literally stuck in.

I touched the cap on my forehead absent-mindedly. It had become loose from running so I adjusted it to contain some of my outrageous curls. For me, the gesture indicated a level of safety I didn't realise I felt. I took a step forward in the darkness, hands outstretched, reaching.

I felt a body there and prayed that, in my awkwardness, I hadn't touched an all-too-personal part of this stranger. He immediately moved aside.

"Can I see?" I whispered.

His hand rested on my shoulder and led me to where he was previously standing. I could see the tiny crack in the door and leant forward to look through.

There were walkers surrounding the station but they were wandering aimlessly, the two of us seemingly forgotten. I could see no efficient escape but for now, we were safe. I leant back and was awkwardly silent. I didn't know where the boy was.

Suddenly, but not forcefully, a hand grasped mine. It was sweaty and calloused and completely enveloped mine but I found comfort in it.

"I'm Carl" he said quietly.

I paused for a moment and then replied.

"Clementine" I offered in return.