TWD: When angels meet, a walking dead fanfic

[The following story is a colaborative project between Acid Rain2345 and myself. It is a story that chronicles what could happen if the protagonist (Angel Hellfire) from Acid Rain's story 'Would you die for what you believe in?' would happen upon the protagonist (Hakima Gunay) from my stories 'TWD:Hakima' and 'TWD: Hakima 2; Angel of Death', and how that would play out. This is a stand-alone story and there's no need to have read our earlier stories to understand what is going on in this one. That does not mean that both Acid Rain and I wouldn't enjoy you reading our prior works after reading this story. In fact, we are excited to invite you to do just that and we hope that you'll enjoy reading our stories as much as Acid Rain and I enjoy writing them. I won't keep you any longer and let you at the story. Enjoy it for what it is, and thank you in advance for reading.]

TWD: When angels meet.

By:

Javamonsoon, creator of Hakima Gunay;

Acid Rain2345, creator of Angel Hellfire.

Dedicated to me. Gotcha! Dedicated to all readers.

Angel Hellfire tried. She tried real hard. But fleeing from a group of walkers while dragging a little nine year old girl along wasn't all that easy. Especially if that little nine year old girl was scared witless and wailing loudly. Angel almost regretted that she had rescued the girl when the outbreak was fresh. Almost. Yet, Angel had to do it, she could not just leave a little girl behind to get eaten by walkers and maybe even worse, leave a little girl to die only so she would turn and be a pre-teen walker for all eternity to follow.

In Angel's life, there had been enough violence, enough death. Early on in her life, when everything was black and empty, she got recruited by a semi-official secret agency who gave her a new purpose. At the behest of that rogue-agency, Angel received rigorous training to become a ruthless assassin and was injected into a small team of professional murderers. Carrying out black-ops allover the world, Angel had seen, and caused, more than her share of death. She had visited death upon the deserving and the innocent alike with the ruthless calculus of war.

Angel did not take particular pleasure in her work. She carried out the missions as well as could be expected, but it took her ever more effort to retain her sanity. She would either hit the bottle or the next person within reach after a mission. The darkness that had been present since her early teens was never far away. Always waiting for her to return, just like a wifebeater does who knows that his abused spouse will always return to him for another beating.

Angel oftenly considered suicide, but something intangible kept her on her feet. Always bouncing back, always coming back for more punishment. Her last true friend to fall in the early days of the outbreak, Sunny, had compared Angel to a Slinky once. No matter how forcefully one would compact her, Angel would always return to her original form.

One could see it as her most admirable trait, if it didn't hurt Angel so much.

Depending on her emotional state, Angel's eyes would shift coloring. It was a condition a lot of medical eggheads had broken their minds over. It was unlike anything they had heard or seen of before, nor was the condition ever recorded in medical journals prior. One prominent ocular-specialist had called Angel's condition 'Mutatio Fulgeo', but that was as far as the man had gotten.

Desperately trying to stay ahead of the walkers with the wailing little girl in tow, Angel's eyes were turning red with angry desperation. At this rate, the walkers would overtake them soon, Angel feared. Angel herself was okay with that. The prospect of dying did not fear Angel and she would not go down alone against the walkers. It was the little girl that she wanted to keep safe and alive, more than anything else. Almost as if the little girl was Angel's last chance to do right by the world, her ultimate redemption.

Angel and the little girl were hurrying along a two-lane blacktop winding through rural Georgia. The road was flanked by fields on one side; trees and low growth on the other. Angel thought fleetingly about letting go of the little girl and to make for the treeline. It would be stupendously easy to break free from the walkers between the trees. Angel would just disappear in the undergrowth, seemingly from existance, and leave the walkers dumbfounded. For as far it was possible to leave walkers dumbfounded of course. The little girl would be a perfect distraction for the walkers while Angel made her escape...

Angel glanced over her shoulder to see how far behind the walkers were and made a decision. She halted and dropped on a knee next to the little girl.

"Jewel, sweetie, please stop yer whining.", Angel urged the little girl in her thick irish accent. It was an accent that threw many people off, as Angel was a midwestern girl with none of the western-european features one might expect to see on an irish girl. Apart from that, Angel's accent was strong enough to cut steel, causing people to frequently ask 'what?'. Angel had adopted the irish accent during an extended stay in Ireland and was tired of it herself, but returning to speaking US-english (or any english that would be understandable to mortals), had proven troublesome. The little girl, addressed to as Jewel, by some weird reason could understand her perfectly.

Some things are better not to question.., they just are the way they are.

Jewel, however, just put extra effort in her wailing...

Hakima Gunay, for once one with Allah and the cosmos, was laying on her back in the grass, hands interlocked behind her head and just looking at the sky and the clouds that were in it. Beside her in the grass lay her weekender and her sniper-rifle. Near Hakima's head lay her Clint Eastwood-hat. She could take it easy, afterall she and the walkers had an understanding. Hakima wouldn't kill them and the walkers wouldn't kill her. That's not to say the walkers always honored the truce, but that was corrected quickly enough.

The arabic-american girl figured it was a good day. A boring one, but still good. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her brain she missed Emily, and a part of her wished that the girl would be with her right now, so that they could enjoy the sky and the clouds together.

They would point out shapes that the clouds were morphing into, talk about things that interested girls only, make inside jokes... But Emily was dead now. Murdered by bandits. As pointless a death as one could make it. Just got her brains blown out because the bandits had become tired of violating her, infront of her very father who had let it happen.

Emily's father was dead too, Hakima had seen to that. The sweetest vengeance ever. Almost perfect. One for the books. And she got a nice Clint Eastwood-hat out of it, that looked awesome on her.

Hakima tried talking to Emily as if the girl was indeed next to her, but it was too corny. Hakima was not much of a dweller. She was a true Marine, always moving foreward. She had put herself past worse things in the past, so putting herself past Emily shouldn't be too hard.

Still...

Emily was the first person Hakima had truly loved in her own psychotic way. It wasn't supposed to end like it had.

Just before the outbreak, Hakima had served her four year contract with the USMC and had just arrived back home in Atlanta. She had an offer in her pocket to stay on for the long haul, in recognition of her stellar service as a scout sniper. A part of her wanted to stay on, as Hakima would never again get the chance to be so totally free to slaughter as she saw fit, another part of her wanted to return home and pick up where she had left off upon joining the USMC. A part of her wanted to return to being a petty-criminal gangbanger with a reputation of never being arrested for anything.

Though one might consider leaving the USMC behind to be a gangbanger as trading down, to Hakima the two choices were equal; both of them would offer her the freedom to do what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it.

Hakima sighed. Boring days dragged on and on... She hoped it would last forever. For once not going foreward, for once not worrying about the safety of others, for once not thinking about where to scrounge up some food next, for once not reminding walkers that they had a mutual understanding, for once not being looked to as the solution to a wide variety of problems involving the current state of America. Just lounging amidst the gifts Allah had bestowed upon the world. Or inflicted upon the world, depending on your particular brand of cynicism.

It was good. Almost... decadent.

"All that's missing is a pair of hot strippers doing the Nevada-grind and a fistful of one-dollar bills.", Hakima murmered. She giggled.

Slowly, Hakima became aware of noise coming from the road not too far away. It sounded like a wailing kid. Hakima didn't pay it much mind, the kid would be walkerlunch soon. And as long as Hakima would be laying here enjoying the sky and the clouds, the walkers would move on. They always did, so there was no need to fear that the walkers would do anything different this time.

Walkers were just not the types to switch tactics. It worked for Hakima. The wailing kid though, that was getting on Hakima's nerves. Hakima started to softly sing a song to put her mind off the wailing kid, "Angie, Angie, when will those clouds all disappear? Angie, Angie, where will we take it from here? With no loving in our souls, and no money in our co-", Hakima stopped singing.

The wailing was getting closer, without a doubt. A wailing kid would just remain where it was, because if it knew what to do or where to go, it wouldn't be wailing like it did in the first place. This wailing kid was getting closer at an alarming speed.

Hakima shrugged. Maybe the ultra-fast wailing kid would run right past. Hakima freed her right hand from under her head and made a fast, sweeping motion with it while going, "Woooosh!", picturing how the wailing kid would speed past with a mob of angry walkers following suit. Hakima giggled at the mental image.

The wailing on the road stopped moving, much to Hakima's chagrin. Was there no end to this? This was a perfect, boring day and some whiney douchebag kid had to go and spoil it. Hakima stuck a pointy index-finger in the sky to where she estimated Allah would be looking down at her and scolded, "Just once, Allah, just once. Is that too much too ask?"

Then Hakima brought her legs up and in one fluid motion she jumped to her feet. "Well..,", Hakima murmered while collecting her Clint Eastwood hat, weekender and sniper-rifle, "It looks like I'll have to kill the kid myself if I want some peace and quiet.", she sighed and set herself in motion, "I hope the walkers won't mind.., our truce is thin-ice enough as it is."

Angel did her best to the console Jewel, all the while shooting glances at the walkers. They were creeping ever closer and Jewel's wailing was like a lighthouse signaling them to port. Angel had to think of something soon.

"Can you possibly make more noise?", a melodious, if slightly annoyed, voice asked.

Angel's head shot towards the voice that had spoken and she saw a small woman standing in the middle of the road. Most of the woman's face was hidden behind a curtain of sleek raven hair and she was wearing a Clint Eastwood-hat that shadowed the rest of it. Angel felt like a deer trapped in the headlights of a speeding car. It was very difficult to sneak up on Angel, but there it was, the evidence that no matter how good you are, there will always be someone out there better than you.

The woman was totally at ease, it seemed. Angel guessed the woman was looking past what was in front of her towards the meandering walkers.

"Wot are ye standing there for, ye twat! Do sumthing!", Angel ordered.

The woman cocked her head, "Do something.., please."

"Fuck ye say?"

"Bye.", the woman spoke and started to turn away. Angel cursed and conceeded, "Do sumthing, please."

"That wasn't hard at all, was it?", spoke the woman as she closed the distance between herself and Angel, "I'll make it painless for the kid, don't worry.", from the weekender she was carrying with, the woman produced a mean looking bayonet. It had a pretty long, razor-sharp blade and it had a brass-knuckle grip with spikes on each knuckle.

"Are ye daft?", shouted Angel as she realised what the other woman had in mind. "Do sumthing 'bout the walkers, ye cunt!"

"Tsk, calling people cunt won't award you Miss Congeniality 2000, you know.", the woman dropped her weekender and unshouldered her sniper-rifle, carefully laying it next to her weekender, "Oh, allright. I'll go and kick the fear of Allah into your friends. Name's Hakima, by the way."

Hakima did not wait for Angel to say something. As Hakima closed the distance between herself and the walkers, she picked up speed. It looked like a light double-step, designed to be fast and soundless, a locomotion used to surprise sentries from behind. Angel recognized it for what it was instantly. This Hakima was military, or at least military trained, like Angel was. Angel had never thought of using the locomotion to close in on Walkers from the front. She had to remember that one.

It seemed out of place on the woman, who was wearing b-ball hightops, a sports-capri and a loose hensley, yet the ease with which she moved was a dead give-away of her expertise. Angel wasn't quite sure if she should be re-assured by the fact. Hakima behaved like she was a damage-case. A damage-case who knew of a thousand ways to kill.

Hakima dismissively pushed a walker out of balance and drove her bayonet into the forehead of another one. Then she switched hands on the bayonet, pulling it free from the walker. With a girly gesture she placed her right hand on the chest of a walker who had closed in on her and shook her head at it. "No flowers, no date.", Hakima said and she planted her knee forcefully in the walker's groin while at the same time pushing it back. As the walker landed on it's back, Hakima closed in and brought her right foot down on the walker's head. From there, Hakima moved on to the next walker, dispatching that one just as easy as the earlier ones. As she flowed through the mob, doing her thing, it appeared almost as if she was bored with it all.

Angel was sure she heard Hakima giggling as the woman went along her business with the walkers. Angel directed her attention to Jewel, "Please, sweetheart, quit yer crying. The lady was jes joking. Jes joking."

Jewel finally calmed down a bit and toned her wailing down to sobbing. Angel produced a handkerchief from a pocket on her cargo-slacks and gingerly dried Jewel's tears, "There, there, we'll be fine, jes ye watch."

"Oh good, you found the off-switch on your portable airraid-siren.", said Hakima who was returning since she had run out of walkers to put down, "I was getting a migraine."

"I would be obliged if ye would stop upsetting her, ye twat.", Angel returned bitingly, "Can't ye see she's scared?"

Hakima lowered herself into a crouch, casually playing with her bayonet, "I see a bundle of trouble that'll get you killed before long. What did you say your name was again?"

"Did na tell.", Angel said while still keeping herself busy with Jewel.

"Concentrate and make an effort."

Angel gritted her teeth. She was so close to punching Hakima in the face, it wasn't funny. Still, the small woman had taken the pressure off and that had to count for something, "Angel, Angel Hellfire. That were some fancy moves back there. Ye military?"

Hakima shifted her weight a little, but Angel could see that she wasn't doing it out of being uneasy, but just to get little bit more comfortable, "Scout sniper, USMC. I was told I could make it to Gunnery-Sergeant one day, but by the looks of it, I'll be a Corporal for the rest of my life. Oh, I'm not interested in whatever it is you did. Your scars and tattoos are telling enough. If it looks like a merc and talks like a merc, chances are pretty good it is a merc. So, the kid... you on a guilt-trip or something?"

Blindingly fast, Angel rose to her feet and grabbed Hakima, who accomodated and then with a few quick grabs turned the tables on Angel. Angel counter-grabbed, but Hakima was following through and had the point of her bayonet to Angel's chin.

"See your game and raise you one gruesome dead, Rosewood.", Hakima said.

"Look down, jarhead, Imma all-in", Angel retorted.

Hakima looked down and saw that Angel was holding a pistol to her stomach. Hakima shrugged, briefly giggled and asked, "Do you take IOU's?"

"Okay, that was slightly funny.", Angel said, "It's obvious we both know our business and a fight between us would jes go on forever. So, on three we let go and take a step back, okay?"

"Three.", Hakima said and pushed Angel away from her, "Gotcha!"

"Ye twat! Do ye want to die?", Angel shouted.

"Either you kill me or the walkers do, same difference. But no, I appreciate living, unlike you. Now where did my hat go?"

"Fuck ye say? Are ye saying I wanna die?"

"You're not schlepping through Georgia with a wailing kid because you value your life, and those scars everywhere? Either you're into self-mutilation or you're placing yourself in harm's way at every opportunity you get. More than me, you're bad news.", Hakima lowered herself to pick up her hat, "You're the type of crazy that gets people killed only to blame those that do the killing. I bet you got your team killed because of the kid."

Angel's eyes flared red and as she placed her pistol against Hakima's forehead Angel snarled, "The walkers got to Sunny, ye cunt! I had to put him out his suffering! Ye have no right to cheapen his death, ye bitch, so help me, I'll kill ye!"

"Who's Sunny? Nevermind. If I'm allowed to make an observation.., uhm.., bullseye?"

For moments the two women just stood there, as if frozen in time. Angel was seething with anger, but Hakima just stood there, as if she was waiting for the next bus to pull in. Hakima eventually spoke up again, "There's is a difference in our training though. When I pull my pistol out, the safety is off."

Angel's eyes widened. Impossible, she was trained to do that too. Angel levelled her gaze at Hakima, who had a little smile playing on her lips. Hakima leisurely looked upwards to the pistol against her forehead and then looked back into Angel's eyes. Angel tried to read those hazel eyes looking back at her. Hakima was clearly mocking Angel. God! What if...

The moment Angel glanced at her pistol, Hakima suddenly erupted into action. And Angel was going to the ground. Hakima grabbed Angel and stopped her fall, then gently let go when Angel was close to fully down.

"You know.., ", Hakima said as she lowered herself into a crouch next to Angel, "If you pull out a pistol, use it. I knew you weren't going to kill me, because you ignored at least three chances to snap my neck in the earlier scuffle. I know, I know, I was grandstanding, but still... Next time when someone plays a mindtrick on you, just pull the trigger. It's what I would've done.", Hakima playfully slapped Angel on the butt, "I'll be going now. I was lounging in the field overthere, enjoying the day and I want to return to that. You're boring anyway."

"Ye don't slap me on the arse and get to walk away, ye skank.", Angel hissed as she pushed Hakima out of her crouch. Hakima tried to break her fall, but was a little too slow. She ended flat on her butt on the hard tarmac.

"Outstanding.", Hakima sighed, "You're not going to let off, are you? Just as well. You haven't thanked me yet anyway."

Angel got to her feet while muttering choice curses and then asked, "Thank ye for wot?"

"For saving your ass from the walkers, who, by the look of your muscles, were discriminating gourmets."

"Those gourmets have sent out dinner-invitations...", said Angel. She quickly went over to Jewel, who had watched the two women fight eachother with horror in her eyes, and picked her up, "We have to go, now!"

From the treeline that flanked one side of the road, walkers appeared. As Angel collected Jewel and hoisted the little girl up, Hakima was still butt first on the tarmac. She was looking at the walkers, but was otherwise not showing any signs to start doing anything sensible soon.

"Ye coming with?", Angel asked impatiently.

"That's over twenty walkers there.", Hakima informed calmly, "A small herd."

Angel couldn't wait any longer and started to double-time. If that stupid arab bitch wanted to have a meet and greet with a bunch of zombies, so be it. Behind Angel, Hakima rose to her feet and collected her gear. She gave the walkers a tip of the hat and then pulled a short sprint to catch up with Angel and Jewel.

"I guess it was too much to hope for.", Angel grunted as Hakima slowed down and fell into Angel's tempo as if they had trained together for years.

"Sorry to disappoint.", Hakima returned, "But I follow any tight piece of ass that tries to hide the goodness in loose cargo-slacks. You're not doing your figure any favors here, you know."

"Wot?"

"It's a shame you're buff, you should've gone for lean, like me. You're too short to be buff."

Angel hoisted Jewel up a bit while shooting a sidelong glance at Hakima, who was comfortably double-timing along, "Yer about as short as I am, ye self-important flooz."

"You're short, I'm small.", Hakima said, "You know that for as long as you're buff, I'll be faster than you, right?"

"Keep dreaming.", Angel grunted. She couldn't resist it, "No matter wot, I'll always have more boob than ye, ye flattie."

Hakima giggled, "Outstanding.., Eh.., I think that the herd isn't as small as I first thought it was..."

Angel scanned the treeline and saw that Hakima was probably right. There were more walkers out there, or the group of walkers they had seen a little while back was somehow keeping up with them. Clenching Jewel tighter to her body, Angel upped her tempo.

"Running faster won't do us any good.", Hakima remarked as she matched Angel's tempo, "We need a whip."

"Wot are ye talking about?", Angel asked with some effort.

"Wheels, a ride, a car... whip."

"I knew that.", Angel grunted. Hakima was right, they needed to put distance between them and the walkers fast, "We're almost done, ye know. We can't gamble on finding a car before we run out of steam."

"I know.", Hakima agreed, "I've always known this day would come. You keep running and I'll keep them off your back, buy you some time."

"Wot? No! Are ye daft?", Angel shouted, "Ye canna decide to sacrifice yourself jes like that! I won't let ye!"

"Don't argue with me.", Hakima demanded. While still keeping up with Angel, Hakima unshouldered her sniper-rifle and simply threw it away from her, "You take care of the little banshee, Rosewood. Keep on go."

Angel briefly closed her eyes. Another good person to die for her... What if Hakima was right? The bitch was a damage-case, but what if she had the right of it? Angel threw a look over her shoulder and saw Hakima taking a pistol from her weekender and readying her bayonet. Then Hakima kicked the weekender aside and turned towards the walkers. As soon as the first shots were fired and Hakima drew more walkers to her, Angel looked away and tried to run faster for as much as she could while carrying Jewel. What if Hakima was right? Hakima was going to die for certain, to die for her and Jewel. Would her death be on Angel or on the walkers?

"Allright, ye cunt, yer right. That's what ye wanna hear me say, 'ight?", Angel grunted as if Hakima was still running along next to her. Then she saw it.

On the shoulder of the road, was a car. The driver-side door was loose and not far from the car lay a body on the tarmac. Angel halted next to the body and saw that the body was an older man who had commited suicide by sucking down on his pistol.

"Don't look, Jewel.", Angel said and Jewel quickly shut her eyes. Angel heard the occasional gunshot in the distance, "By the spriggans in the valley! She's still kicking! HAHAHA! The fucking bitch is still 'ere! Keep on fighting, ye crazy twat, a few more minutes, ye hear?"

Angel, normally very careful with Jewel, more or less threw the little girl into the car and ushered her onto the backseat, then she dove in herself, slammed the cardoor shut and realised that she hadn't checked the body for the carkeys. To her relief, the carkeys were still in the ignition.

"Okay... european clutch, I can do that.", Angel turned the carkeys and the car, a modern Shelby GT500, came roaringly to life. Angel deftly put the Shelby into gear and revved the engine.

"Show me what ye got, Eleanor. We're gonna change history before it happens."

The Shelby shot forward and the tires protested loudly as Angel forced the musclecar into a tight turn, letting the tail widely swing out. As the Shelby came to point into the right direction, Angel wrestled control back, worked the gearing like a racecar-driver and mashed the throttle. The engine roared, the tires squeeled loudly and the Shelby lunged forward as if it was shot from a catapult, leaving two long strips of rubber behind on the tarmac.

It didn't take long at all to reach Hakima. Angel stepped on the brakes and janked the steeringwheel to the left. The Shelby rear-ended, but Angel kept control. It was exactly what she had wanted the Shelby to do. Coming to a halt not far from Hakima, Angel managed not to stall the engine and she leaned over to open the passenger-door, "Get in, ye... Just get in!"

Hakima didn't need a second invitation. As soon as Hakima was in the car, Angel unleashed the Shelby.

Hakima was checking her pulse, she was shaking uncontrollably and heaving close to the point of hyperventilating. The adrenaline that was coursing through her body made it almost impossible for Hakima to even say something coherent, but she was trying.

Angel raised her hand to signal that Hakima needn't bother, "I know. Jes do yer breathing-routine." Angel knew what Hakima was doing. The routine was also good to avoid panicking. Some people could even regulate their heartbeat that way, though Angel guessed Hakima probably wouldn't be one of those people.

Still, Hakima recouperated extremely fast and visibly relaxed. Angel looked aside a few times to check, but piloting a modern Shelby GT500 is not an activity one approaches casually. Hakima was looking back at Angel and tears were streaming freely down her cheecks.

"Hey, don't ye cry.", Angel soothed, "Ye did it, ye crazy bitch. And I came back for ye."

"N-no... I... I can't drive stick.", Hakima stammered.

Angel couldn't help it. The absurdity of the moment was too much. Here's she was, in the company of a woman who had just held off a herd singlehandedly without even getting a scratch on her... and in tears because she couldn't drive stick and Angel could. Priceless. Angel laughed.

Hard.

The Shelby raced towards the horizon.

All good things come to an end. Angel sighed and rested her hands in her lap, "Well, that's all she wrote." From under the hood of the Shelby, dark smoke rose.

Hakima said nothing. She hadn't spoken for a while now, ever since she finally stopped being sad over the fact that there was something Angel was able do that she wasn't. Hakima had just sat there, staring into nothing and generally being unresponsive. Angel guessed that Hakima just wanted to be alone with her thoughts and let the woman be, but Angel kind of missed the bickering that Hakima had kept alive until she stayed behind to take one for the team. Angel was pretty sure she would go back to hating Hakima's guts as soon as the woman would pick her bravado up from the floor.

Angel couldn't decide on what to do next. When Hakima suddenly checked her wristwatch and turned towards her, Angel almost jumped out of her skin.

"A little ways back I spotted a little town. If we march, we can make it there before dark and get inside.", Hakima sounded as if the last hours hadn't happened.

"Jes like that? Ye say nothing for the longest time, do nothing, ye sit there breathing and now ye suddenly feel the need to scare the living daylights out a me?"

Hakima blinked a few times, "We can't spent the night in a car. That'll wreck us both and I need to stretch down to sleep. I can't sleep sittingly. Never could."

Angel looked in the backseat to check up on Jewel. The little girl was vast asleep. It broke Angel's heart to have to wake Jewel up. Then she turned to Hakima again, "Seriously, ye twat. What is that non-moving for hours thing about?"

Hakima shrugged, "I'm a scout sniper. It's what I do."

"And here I was thinking ye needed a time-out for yerself."

"I let Emily down again, you know. I promised her I would join her now, but I chickened out and got in the car with you.", Hakima spoke softly, "And now I don't even have her photo anymore... I left my weekender behind."

Angel waited for Hakima to open up more, but the woman suddenly got out of the car, "The town is a ways back, we have to go."

Angel got out of the car too, "Hakima, wait. Yer talking to me like I should know Emily, but I don't. I feel like yer blaming me for coming back for ye, but ye don't get to do that, ye hear. First ye lecture me on me getting my team killed and blaming the killers and now yer blaming me for preventing it."

"I don't get to do what? This is not some warzone you can choppa in and out of, Rosewood! My entire life was in that weekender! Did you even stop to think about that when you decided to be a heroine and go save the day? I can't just go and ask Emily for a new photo, now can I? I can't just open my footlocker at base and take her photo out, can I?"

"Look, miss-sorry- for-myself, ye choose to live. That's on ye."

Hakima snorted and made a girlish dismissive gesture, "Like you would have driven off."

"I would eventually have dragged ye into the car, I guess."

Hakima showed a smile and Angel took the opportunity, "Ye know, sometimes... choosing to live is the hardest choice."

"For someone with a stupid accent, that's actually pretty deep.", Hakima blurted and she facepalmed, "Okay, sorry, that was uncalled for. What I have to add to your feel-good organizer quote is this; sometimes, saving a person's life can do more harm than just letting it happen."

"Jes listen to yourself, do ye hold the congressional medal of drama? Why don't ye jes scavenge a new weekender and start a new life? Ha! Ye didn't think about that, now did ye, ye crybaby?"

Hakima blinked, "Seriously? Have you looked at the both of us? We're not regular people, Rosewood. When the shit hits the fan, it gets propelled into our faces. And we fight back and we survive and we do it allover again. How many times more until you roll the hard six? This thing, it isn't going to go away. If you hadn't come back for me earlier, I wouldn't even have a chance to see the sun come up on my 24th birthday soon. How do you mean, new life? Don't you see? This is it. This is motherfucking it, Rosewood. Humanity's extinction-cycle. So don't you get fresh and dismiss my moping over Emily's picture as drama-mongering."

Angel's eyes turned magenta as she listened to Hakima and realised the truth in the woman's words, "Yer right. I'm always wondering about why I get to live time and time again while people around me die. Why that kid? Why that man? It goes on and on and on... Hell, I don't know the answer, do ye?"

"No, but I do know that I won't see the end of this. With the shit I get into when I try my hardest to keep my nose clean, that's just not possible. And that's why little things like Emily's photo are so important to me. That's why I keep wearing this stupid Clint Eastwood-hat. I hate the dirty thing, you know that?"

Angel kept quiet. A supportive remark would cause Hakima to blow a piston and negative remark would accomplish the same. Angel reckoned it was best to wait Hakima out.

"The last bandit to violate Emily wore this hat. I came too late to do anything... I saw him pull up his pants, he spat on Emily and then he shot her in the head. I butchered the camp and took the hat as a trophy. I could have been there sooner, but I was going through an episode.", Hakima made a cuckoo-face.

"So, this is sane ye?", Angel asked looking at the face hidden behind a curtain of sleek hair.

Hakima laughed, "Yeah, take a good look, it might change at the drop of a hat. Look, this bonding stuff is cool, but we should really go, we're burning the last of daylight."

Angel nodded, "Aye, let me get Jewel and then we're underway.", she ducked into the car and gently took Jewel from the backseat. Jewel halfly woke, but the little girl was too groggy to react beyond that. As Angel straightened and Jewel sank back into her sleep again, Hakima was already ahead.

"Fucking bitch!", Angel cursed and followed. Yeah, Hakima truly was a better companion if she was doing nothing at all and kept her mouth shut.

When Angel finally catched up with Hakima, the woman was in a crouch, leaning against a building on the edges of the little rural town. She had driven her bayonet half-way in the ground, her pistol was tucked in the back of her sports-capri.

"Har-de-fucking-har, ye minger.", Angel said bitingly as she crouched next to Hakima, "Have you ever considered team-work?"

"We only met this morning.", Hakima said dismissively, "Dunno where you think this is going, but I'm not planning on staying for long. The little banshee will be the death of me."

"Her name is Jewel."

"Whatever. She's a fucking death-note if anything.", Hakima shrugged, "You seriously think we'll be a team and I'll let the same things happen tomorrow? If you want to hold on to your little banshee, you do so alone."

"I should've left ye, ye heartless bitch."

"Yes, you should have.", Hakima spoke with deliberation.

"Is this about yer lesbian lover again?", Angel softly rocked Jewel in an attempt to keep her asleep as the little girl stirred, "If we find ye a rubber sex-doll, will that help?"

"I... tried that once, I was so ashamed with myself and so scared my parents would hear me..."

Angel laughed.

"Yeah, laugh it up, why don't you.", Hakima said sourly.

"It's jes.., is there something stupid ye haven't done yet?"

Hakima looked Angel straight in the eyes and said, "Self-mutilation."

Angel's free hand shot forward and she slapped Hakima so hard in the face the woman had to support herself by hanging on to the wall they were hiding behind. Angel didn't regret doing it. Her hand stung like nobody's business and it was probably the first time in recorded history a flat handed slap almost knocked out a rigorously trained and fit individual, but it had been worth it.

Hakima was holding on the left side of her face and let her tears run free. The pain made it impossible for her to do anything else for a while.

"Aye, start crying. Only my tattoos are self-inflicted, ye miser. And my scars...", Angel paused and shook her head, "Ye have no right to insinuate that they are anything else than they are."

Hakima adjusted her crouch to a position more decent and wiped her tears. The flash-pain was receeding and she could deal with the lingering stinging in the left-side of her face. As if nothing had happened, she said, "I spotted three walkers in the street. And a shadow that looked humanoid, could be something, could be nothing."

"Right, this isn't where I'd expect ye to apologize anyway. Ye take care of Jewel for a while and I'll take care of the buggers.", before Hakima could object Angel handed Jewel over in Hakima's care. As Angel peeked around the wall to confirm Hakima's report, Hakima calmly tugged her left arm a few times.

"Wot?", Angel asked with a certain irritation.

"You seem to forget that I was of a mind to kill the little banshee this morning? Just saying."

"Look, yer going to take care of Jewel and I'm going to take care of a few walkers. If anything happens to Jewel, even as much as a split-end on one single hair on her head, I'll make sure ye will end up thinking the that the 7th ring of Hades is a vacation-resort, ye got that?"

Hakima looked at Jewel and sighed, "This day is getting better and better for the worse."

"And yer a whiney bitch that's angry about not being center-stage, and it's getting old.", Angel produced a slim dagger from her right boot, "And now ye listen, ye listen good and yer going to be a teamplayer.", Angel peeked around the wall again and continued, "When ye hear me whistle, ye follow. Jewel can walk by herself, just don't let go of her hand."

"I don't want to! She's scary!", Jewel whined. Somewhere during the scuffle between Angel and Hakima, she had woken up.

"That's nothing compared to what's going to happen if your mother buys the farm.", Hakima spoke with the friendliest voice. Angel hadn't thought about that.

"Are ye saying what I'm thinking yer saying?"

"Absolutely. Do I look like mum-material to you? Do you have some weird idea in your head that I will raise the little banshee when you slip up out there and die? She's your responsibility, Rosewood. Like it or not, but your commando-days are over."

Angel took a moment to think it over. From what she'd seen and heard from Hakima sofar, Angel knew that Hakima thought nothing about killing. Angel was different. The act of killing meant nothing to her, but the effect it had on her was vastly different from Hakima's. Somehow, the fact they were both military professionals had put Angel into believing that Hakima would have a warrior's code she would live by, much like Angel herself did. Angel hated the fact that because of her, many people weren't alive anymore. To Hakima, other people were just in the way on her travels from A to B and whether or not people would still be alive after she passed through was merely a die-roll that could go either way.

Angel realised that Hakima would not think twice about simply murdering Jewel if that meant survival. Hakima would probably giggle while doing it, at that. Angel cursed and put her dagger back in her boot, "Okay, fine. Ye do it then. Go on, prima donna."

"I wish I still had my nightshades.", Hakima said wistfully while she fished up a hairband from the only pocket her sports-capri had. She started to bind her hair together in a ponytail.

"Nightshades?", Angel echoed while shaking her head with a 'what the fuck'-expression in her eyes.

"A simple prescription to enhance contrast during twilight, the USMC likes to keep their snipers at 20/20. It's just light enough to avoid getting removed from the program, I was lucky, I guess.", Hakima turned to Angel who took a moment to study Hakima's face. Angel could not place the face on the woman. It was tell-tale arabic, with soft features and slightly angled hazel eyes. Hakima's face would almost be angelic, if not for the busted nose that had healed without medical attention. Hakima picked up on Angel's confusion and giggled, "Now you know why they call me the Angel of Death."

"Now I know why ye hide yer face, yer ugly.", Angel snarked.

Hakima didn't react to Angel. She freed her bayonet from the ground and got ready to sneak up on the walkers, "When I whistle-"

"-Jes go already, will ye?"

Hakima went. Angel watched Hakima flow around the wall and vanish. Then she turned towards Jewel who was giving her scared looks. Angel smiled at Jewel, in a bid to set the little girl's mind at ease, "Don't ye worry, I won't let that crazy hurt ye."

Jewel's underlip trembled and she said with a small voice, "She's scary... Not nice like you..."

"As long as I'm here to protect ye, Hakima won't hurt ye. And if she tries, I'll give her... the claw!", Angel joked while making her right-hand into a monster that appeared to attack Jewel. The little girl pretended to be scared and rushed in to embrace Angel.

"Can't you tell her to go?", Jewel asked. There was genuine fear for Hakima in her voice.

"She did something for us ye can't ask of anyone to do, Jewel. I don't like her much either, but sometimes ye can't choose the people yer with."

"Ain't that the truth.", a melodious voice spoke.

Angel cursed under her breath. Hakima had surprised her again, "Weren't ye killing walkers?"

"I whistled.", Hakima said matter of factly.

"Did na hear."

Hakima shrugged, "I'm gay."

Angel facepalmed with a resounding slap, "What does that have to do with anything, ye moron?"

"Apperently, we gays suck at whistling. Come on, the coast is seemingly clear, I saw a pharmacy and I want to check it out."

Angel took Jewel by the hand and together they trailed Hakima by a little bit. Jewel wanted to talk to Angel, but she kept quiet. The quaint and deserted rural town, darkening in the ever heavier twilight was spooky enough. Jewel tightened her grip on Angel's hand.

At the door that gave entry to the pharmacy, Hakima pointed at a plague that was taped to the glass in the door.

Please, take what you need. God Bless.

"Or, how to make looters feel guilty.", Hakima remarked as she entered the pharmacy.

"What is it yer looking for?", Angel wanted to know as she picked Jewel up and sat her down on a counter.

Hakima checked her wristwatch and seemed to do some calculations in her head, "Almost my period. I also left my female needs behind. And we need tranquilizers."

"I can see the female needs. But why do 'we' need tranquilizers?"

"To sedate the little banshee."

"Wot?", Angel took a few steps towards Hakima and grabbed her by the hensley, "Wot's yer problem?"

"Sheesh, level out. You let her sleep for hours and now she's wide awake. Are you of a mind to let her sit there while we sleep? I can think of a thousand things that can go wrong."

Angel pulled Hakima in close, but the woman just kept looking straight in Angel's eyes with that ever present mocking smile on her lips. Angel knew Hakima well enough by now to understand that the woman was willing to be manhandled a bit if it helped her making a point. But Hakima was also very willing to defend herself. The fact that she hadn't done so yet calmed Angel down a bit and she let go of Hakima.

"Aye, Jewel won't be sleepy for a while. And ye just blew ye cover. You care, don't ye?"

"Only because it will cause me problems if she decides to be a homing-beacon while we sleep.", Hakima said as she browsed the shelves, "They never stock small. Medium barely fits me. You look like the 'super' kind of woman to me."

Angel scratched her head uncomfortably, "Medium... I can't imagine what manner of woman would need super."

Hakima laughed, "Oh, I can think of a few... Hillary Clinton, Sara Palin... Tipper Gore? Yeah, she probably too."

"Oprah...", Angel mused.

"I like the way you think. What do you know... small.", Hakima triumphantly held up a box of female needs, "Now for horse-tranquilizers."

"Hold it.", Angel spoke decisively, "If there's sedating to be done, I'll take care of it. I don't trust ye with that kind of meds." Angel hopped over the counter and started to browse the shelves that held the medicine. Most of it was almost gone, but she found a box of mild sedatives for children, intended to be administered on long airline-flights.

Hakima took the long way around the counter and wanted to ruffle Jewel's hair along the way, but the little girl ducked away from her hand. Hakima gave Jewel a smile and rounded the counter. Grabbing a plastic bag to put her box of female needs in, her eyes went over the shelves.

"That's weird...", Hakima said with a trailing voice.

"Wot now, ye weirdo?"

"Look at the anti-conception section... All the Morning After pills are gone."

Angel looked and shrugged, "I think that someone wasn't too keen on being pregnant right now, wot of it?"

"All other prevention has been left alone for the most part, it's just the row for the Morning After pill that's empty... but you're right. It's a bad time to be pregnant.", Hakima turned away from the shelves and made for the door, "I'm going to look around a bit, I think I spotted a bar not far from here. I'm not looking forward to spending the night in here."

"Aye, I saw it too. Go on ahead, we'll catch... up...", Angel spoke as Hakima just left. Angel shot dirty glances at the door as it fell shut, "Bitch."

Jewel relaxed as soon as Hakima was gone, "She wanted to touch my hair..."

"Hakima wanted to be nice to ye, like so.", Angel said and ruffled Jewel's hair, "That isn't scary at all, right?"

"No, but you're nice.", Jewel said heartfelt.

"It means a lot to me to hear ye say that, little mouse.", Angel smiled while softly hugging the kid, "And that makes asking this so much harder. Sweetie, I need ye to do something for me..."

Hakima carefully stepped through the door of the bar, pistol at the ready. During her walk from the pharmacy to the bar, she had removed the hairband and her hair hung in her face again. Her Clint Eastwood-hat she had pushed back on her head. She felt a lot better with her hair in front of her eyes. That pony-tail experiment was not working out. She had not shown it to Angel, but Angel's remark that she thought Hakima was ugly stung. Okay, they hadn't started out on the right foot, nor did they find the right one over the course of the day.., but flat-out calling her ugly when Hakima tried to be appealing... it made Hakima sad.

"Yo, any walkers in here looking for dinner?", Hakima probed half-loud, "I'm ugly, you might as well eat me." Hakima actually waited for an answer, "Too ugly to get eaten, huh? That bad..."

Hakima stepped fully into the bar, that was decorated as an old-time western-saloon. It looked very authentic, but it was lost on Hakima who walked over to the counter and tossed her pistol on the top. Next to the pistol, she planted her bayonet tip down in the counter next to it. She let her plastic bag with female needs just drop on the floor. Hakima sighed, planted her elbows on the counter and rested her face in her hands. Some time passed in which nothing moved, including Hakima.

Hakima looked over her shoulder when the door was slowly opened, "It's safe.", she merely said. Angel stepped in, carrying Jewel, who had a droopy look on her face.

"And how are you going to get some food into the little banshee now, mother of the year?"

"Maybe we can find her some juice...", answered Angel, "I'm not Jewel's mother. I just couldn't leave her behind. I had to do sumthing."

Hakima did not have anything to say to that as she opened some doors that revealed small cooler-compartments holding beers and sodas. Angel gently lowered Jewel from her arms into a chair and tried her best to make the little girl comfortable.

"So...", Hakima started to say while Angel steeled herself for the inevitable buttkick, "You're as clueless as I am?"

"Don't drag me down to yer level, ye bitch.", Angel sighed and took a seat herself, "I'm not going to explain it, ye wouldn't understand."

"Yeah, I'm a major dullstone.", Hakima joked, coming up from behind the counter, "Reasonable bars usually have some long-life dairy hidden away. This bar is reasonable. The bottle is even still closed. You can drink this stuff even lukewarm... The USMC loves to overstock their deployed personell with it.", Hakima shuddered, "I'm already not a fan of dairy."

Angel accepted the bottle of long-life milk from Hakima, "Can ye find a mug to pour her some milk in, ye think?"

"We can do better than that.", Hakima said as she took her bayonet from the bar, "I'll be back."

Angel opened her mouth to ask where Hakima was going, but the woman flowed through the door to the outside as fast as quicksilver. Angel just sat there for a while, softly stroking Jewel's hair. Sedating Jewel was not something Angel would've suggested as quickly as Hakima had done. Angel cared too much for the little girl to just come up with it as the right thing to do. And the fact that Hakima was the one to remind her that the girl should've eaten something first was like a slap in the face. How could a total spotlight-queen like Hakima even bring herself to look after others like that? And have no qualms about killing them if they became a hint of trouble? You have to stand for something, have a moral compass, no matter what happens.., you must be able to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the day! It may be the end of the world, but that doesn't mean it is a one-man show!

"That's the defense of the inept.", Hakima remarked as she stepped in the bar with a bulging plastic bag in her left hand.

"I said that out loud...", Angel moaned.

"Don't worry, I murmur a lot. I won't judge you. The homies called me Whisper because of it."

"I was jes thinking about how ye favor going at it alone... I mean, ye can't do everything alone, you'll have to accept help once and again."

"Accepting help creates an obligation that usually is not in balance with the help you accepted in the first place. You know, ask for a tenner and paying two tenners back."

"It's not that black and white and ye know it."

Hakima took a deep breath, "I knew this guy, he led a group of destitutes in the first days after the outbreak. Honorable man, lived by a code and he stuck with it. He would not accept that people can't be trusted or reasoned with. He got his group killed eventually, because he thought he could deal with bandits."

"I can respect such a man.", Angel mused.

"I killed him and I hope he lives on as a walker for a thousand years.", Hakima said casually and raised her plastic bag, "Baby-plates, baby-spoons, oatmeal and a sip-cup. We can all eat something that actually tries to be substantial. If you don't mind eating from a plate that had fiendishly ugly teddybears all along the rim."

"Okay spoonfeeding a little girl, I can do that.", Angel smiled weakly, "I'm on to ye. All that super-girl posing ye do... it's jes ye throwing shadows."

"If you're going to keep the little banshee alive, at least don't starve her. I was never allowed a kitten because my parents already could predict what was going to happen to it.", Hakima giggled, "I would've called it Bigglesworth. Can't remember why."

Hakima spread out the baby-stuff and mixed oatmeal with the long-life milk on the plates, "It's a good thing I'm a little eater."

"I eat only when I get dizzy. It's not easy trying to find the time eating while under fire.", Angel looked at her plate. They greyish substance on it wasn't all that mouthwatering to her.

"Heh, always time for eating, regardless of what's going on. At least enough to keep the stone-in-stomach feeling away.", Hakima said and took a few spoonfulls of the drab she had mixed on her plate, "Yech. Oatmeal is still as foul as I remember it to be."

Angel tried to get Jewel's attention. The little girl was totally out of it and more or less automatically swallowed what she was fed. Angel spoke softly soothing words to Jewel as she spoonfed the little girl.

Hakima watched it for a while and then got up. Making her way behind the counter she started searching the coolers again.

"Looking for a drink? Shouldn't be too hard.", Angel joked.

"I don't drink on religious grounds...", Hakima answered absent mindedly, "Ah, ."

"I find it hard to believe yer religious.", Angel said disdainful.

"I'm not religious-religious. But I believe. Though I'm sure Allah sees it as a mixed blessing. My parents were alevit muslims and fled Turkey because of it. Father taught me how to worship, but he saw that as the absolute maximum. He believed that people should make up their own mind.", Hakima dropped her voice low as she impersonated her father, "You're not born religious, you're taught to be religious. Any teaching presented as the truth should be questioned.", Hakima paused and seemed to realise something, "I think that he was a bit disappointed that I loosely stayed with the Islam, I think he was afraid I would turn fundamentalist. Lose my way, you know."

"Yer father was a smart man."

"He was consistent, you don't need to be smart for that. How about you?"

Angel tried to get one more spoonful into Jewel, but the little girl weakly fought her attempts, "Possibly the best friend I ever had, Lunar, was like a mentor to me. He was a merc like me, but he wasn't the ruthless movie-merc. He could put anything into perspective, rowdy as he was.., he made sense of things. When he died, I promised him to never give up, to do right by the world because he believed that however shitty things became, the world would forever be worth saving. If I believe anything, I believe that...", Angel fell silent and Hakima studied her bottle of soda.

Angel drummed her fingers on the table, "And now, pour me a drink, unless yer Allah forbids that too."

Hakima giggled, "Well, I have a nice selection of quality booze here, so pick your poison."

"Step aside, yer useless with booze anyway.", Angel jested and checked the selection of booze available at the bar with the eye of a connaiseur. She took a bottle at random and grabbed a shotglass. Armed with bottle and glass she took a seat at the counter and filled her glas with a brisk hand. "To all that are dead and not here... fuck you.", Angel toasted and emptied her glas in one gulp. She shook her head and stomped her right foot as the liquor went down, "Wooh!"

Hakima did not deign it worthy of a snide remark. She kept opening drawers and doors around the counter area and generally was just rummaging. Angel didn't mind. It was actually better to her that Hakima kept herself busy like that. Angel silently cursed herself out for sharing her memory of Lunar. She was sure Hakima would at some point throw it in her face. That woman forgot nothing. Angel kept chucking back shots at a respectable tempo. She got a pleasantly warm feeling after each shot that lingered just long enough to last to the next shot.

"Itz all in the wrizt", Angel said slurredly.

Hakima looked up from her rummaging, "What is?"

"Drinkin', itz all in the wrizt."

"I believe that you believe that.", Hakima said with a mocking voice.

"Right, ye believe that ye believe.., err, ye did that on pur-purposh. Bitch.", Angel poured herself another shot.

Hakima was done rummaging and took a place next to Angel. She said nothing and nothing on her face was telling if she was disapproving or approving on Angel's drinking. She just looked at Angel with that little mocking smile.

"Dat zmile... iz dat yer trade-mark or zumthing?" Angel asked with a drunk-giggle, "Yer... calling-card? Friendly neighborhood murderer, iz dat it?"

"I smiled like this once when the belltower banged 12 o'clock. Had the smile ever since."

Angel laughed and turned to Hakima to look her in the face. Hakima reached out and took a strand of Angel's hair, twisting the strand between her fingers. Angel froze shortly, then poured herself another drink. If Hakima wanted to play with her hair, so what?

When she turned to Hakima again, the woman had closed in a bit and their faces were inches apart. Angel tried to focus on Hakima, not really sure what was happening. Hakima leaned in a bit closer, she looked to be a bit hot and bothered and breathed heavy.

"Yer awright? Ye loo-"

Hakima kissed her and in a drunken reflex, Angel kissed back. It was nice, but it felt wrong too. Angel wasn't sure what to do. Hakima burried her face in the nook between Angel's shoulder and neck while she softly caressed Angel's back with her fingertops. Angel had a feeling something was going wrong. She wasn't like that. Not with women, right?

"No!", Angel yelled and pushed Hakima away. Angel was acutely sober, "What do ye think yer doing?"

"I...", Hakima just stood there and blurted, "The kissing, the stroking... I thought you wanted this!"

Angel grabbed Hakima, shook her hard and then threw her backwards. Hakima fell, taking some barstools with her as she went. Angel closed in, kicking the barstools aside to get to Hakima, who tried to avoid her by pedaling frantically backwards. She backpedaled herself into the corner where the barcounter hooked itself. Angel hoisted Hakima on her feet.

"And then wot, ye stupid bitch? Ye think we go on being girlfriends?"

"Don't flatter yourself.", Hakima spat.

Angel threw Hakima away from her again. Hakima crashed into a table and chairs and cried out in pain. It didn't do anything to lessen Angel's anger. She closed in on Hakima again, but Hakima got to her feet and rose a waggling finger at Angel.

"You can only do that twice, Rosewood.", Hakima said in a tone of voice Angel hadn't heard her use before.

"Aye. Then explain what yer idea was."

"We could be warm, cosy and happy in the time we were fighting over this. Now we're just like always, miserable. Maybe you see that as a badge of honor something, being miserable while saving the live of a little girl. But I don't particularly see the appeal of being miserable all the time."

"That... actually makes sense in a weird way.", Angel concluded.

"Whatever, you ruined everything. Get drunk or whatever, I'm going to get some sleep.", Hakima turned away from Angel and reached over the counter, coming up with tablecloths. Angel watched Hakima fashion a makeshift bed out of the tablecloths and lay herself down.

Angel turned to her bottle and poured herself a fresh shot. The mood was destroyed, but the bottle was patient. It would be alright at the bottom.

Angel woke up to a nice hang-over. She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall and Jewel was in her arms. Angel could not remember how she had gotten there, but was glad that Jewel was alright.

"You're awake!", Jewel said genuinely happy, "You were funny!"

"Funny?", asked Angel, cringing at the happy voice of the little girl.

"You told jokes... Lim..limricks!"

'Oh no', Angel thought and closed her eyes, "Jewel, please forget those limmericks, promise me."

"Okay.", Jewel readily agreed, "I slept in your arms."

"Yes, ye did, sweetie. Are ye feeling alright? I'm sorry about yesterday."

"I'm a bit hungry."

"Okay, let's go see if scary girl is awake."

"She left."

"Did she now?"

"It was scary, she made no sounds..."

Angel let go of Jewel and struggled to her feet. Fighting the reflex to shake her head to clear it, Angel waited till it cleared without her getting sick. There was no sign of Hakima anywhere, her makeshift bed lay deserted and her gear was gone. Angel couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. On the one hand, having the woman out of her hair was a relief, on the other hand she felt a bit... alone. Jewel was a sweetheart, but having an adult to talk to, even if that adult was an egocentric maniac, was welcome too.

"We would've killed eachother eventually...", Angel mused.

"Don't say that!", Jewel urged, "You could never kill anyone!"

Angel smiled at Jewel, "Yer right, sweetie, only the creepy people that make the noises."

"Yeah, the walkers!", Jewel agreed with a knowing tone in her voice.

"Aye, those.", Angel opened her hand and Jewel eagerly took it, "Ready to walk? Let's see if there's a supermarket in this town."

Jewel practically took Angel in tow, "Let's go before she comes back?", Jewel stretched a bit to reach the doorknob and opened the door. Sunlight washed over them as they stepped onto the street. As the door closed behind them, Jewel said, "I don't want her to find us..."

A day later, feet stuck in b-ball hightops halted next to an abandoned weekender that was just laying there on the tarmac of the winding two-lane blacktop. It was surrounded by dead walker corpses and spent pistol-rounds.

Hakima lowered herself and opened her weekender. She stuck her pistol and a box of female needs in and closed the weekender. Swinging the weekender over her left shoulder, she started walking again. If her weekender was still where she had abandoned it, then the sniper-rifle couldn't be far away.

It lay just a few feet away from where Hakima had found her weekender. Trained hands inspected the rifle and satisfied that the rifle was in good condition, Hakima shouldered it over her right shoulder.

She looked at the sky. It was a cloudless day and the sky was just one big expanse of blue.

"An omen.", Hakima murmured and she resolutely turned to start walking back in the direction she had come from...

-The End.

[Credits]

Shelby&Shelby GT500 is trademarked by and the property of Shelby American Inc/Carrol Shelby.

Angel Hellfire and Jewel appear courtesey of and are the intellectual property of Acid Rain2345.

Hakima Gunay is the intellectual property of Javamonsoon.

Written by Javamonsoon and Acid Rain2345.