I'd been stalking this damn dear for the past day, why can't it just give up, I screamed inside my head. My name is Emily Ross and I am a hunter. Ever since my mom died when I was 4 and my daddy was nothing but an alcoholic all the time that got enough money to pays bills instead of my food, I learned to hunt. Now here I was in the middle of a freaking zombie apocalypse, tracking a freaking deer. I looked at the fact tracks skittering themselves to the left and made my way to follow it whenever I heard a man shouting, but not loud enough to know he was in danger.
"Stupid, motherless, poxy bastard!" The man screamed. I silently walked upon the group but still hidden in the bushes out of sight and saw my deer laying on the ground with a huge ass tear into its hind leg. Dammit, I thought. That was my deer!
The group continued bickering and I couldn't help myself but think I wanted to join the group. I hadn't seen people since my old group. Granted, I hated the people in that group. They were nothing but a bunch of 'high class' men that gave women working jobs. Sorry, apocalypse or no apocalypse, I wasn't doing no other man's dirty clothes. He had hands, he could do it himself. The group continued arguing while I stood there watching in the distance. Seems like there was a fair amount of people here. The group broke in their ways and headed off to do whatever the hell they were doing. I could tell half weren't bad, but others were a different story. From the way the curly black headed man was standing, I didn't like him one bit, and it seemed like he ran the show around here.
All of a sudden I heard a twig snap and as soon as I turned around there was a pair of icy blue orbs stating into mine. Holy shit, this is bad, this is real bad!
"Who the hell are you?!" the man with a southern accent said. Georgia, I'd say. Must be a native.
"Emily Ross. 29 years old. You're the first people I've seen in weeks. Sorry if I was intrudin'. I'll be on my way now." I spouted off.
The man looked shocked, but it was quickly replaced with a emotion I couldn't quite tell. But then he got closer and closer to my face. I didn't know what to do so I matched his face with a gaze of venom. He looked momentarily shocked for a second and then asked what I was doing in the forest.
"Been trackin' that deer for miles," I said. Oh wow, didn't expect my accent to come out. Tennessean accents come out at the worst of times sometimes. I personally hate my accent, makes me sound like a damn fool sometimes.
"You, seriously?" He scoffed. "You look like one of them barbie girl types that don't even know what the hell the difference in bat shit and coffee grains are." What the hell did he just say to me?! Oh hell, no, he better take that back, and it better be fast
I threw a glare at him which he easily dodged and matched with his own. "Oh really? Well I can tell that you need to clean your Horton Scout on your back. Getting a little dirty don't you think? Well if you'd let me move, I'll just be on my way to find my supper for tonight. Not to mention I gotta find somewhere to bunker down. Sorry, I ain't the barbie you thought I was."
I turned on my heel and made my way past him picked up my pistol and my compound boy and started treking back whenever I heard the man say, "My name's Daryl. If that's your bow, I think me and you'll get along just fine." I smirked and walked back towards him.