Prologue
Her two small hands clung to the dirt and moss bracing her body as she shook with silent dry heaves. She had already vomited up her last meal, the mushroom soup chunks laying before her was evidence of that. Her body wasn't finished yet, the heaves continued to ripple through her, even though she was empty. She had been sick since she had escaped three days ago and now she wasn't even keeping water down. She was beginning to think she would die soon and the thought of death was becoming more appealing as time went by.
Finally her stomach stopped lurching and she allowed herself to collapse next to her puddle of mushroom soup and bile. She would just rest here for awhile, she told herself as she shut her eyes to the world around her giving herself over to oblivion. The girls tiny sleeping body was covered in a mixture of sweat, dirt, and gore. Each of her thin wrists were raw and caked with dry blood. Her pouty mouth was swollen and a yellow bruise had formed on the left corner of her lips. Her left eye was black. She had a series of shallow scraps and scratches on both her arms, neck, and cheeks. More lasting injuries were hidden beneath her clothes and skin.
Her sleep was not peaceful, but its grip on the girl was strong. Her deep slumber prevented her from hearing the stumbling and staggered approach of the walker. His one arm out stretched as he dragged his decaying legs towards her sleeping body. He had a gaping hole in his cheek that showed his snapping teeth as he anticipated his next meal. He moved steadily towards his meal, moaning and growling as he approached her.
With a loud snap of a twig, the girls good eye snapped open looking for the source of the sound. The walker lounged at her, covering her body with his, teeth snapping at her face. Her tiny hands struggled to keep his mouth off her, pushing up on the bottom of his chin. She grunted with the strain of his weight. She could feel her weakened arms wobbled as her snapped down at her. She knew she could not hold him off like this for long. She mustered all her energy and thrusted her hips out towards him and pushed his face off to the side. It worked, his body shifted off her and she was able to rolled away from him.
He lunged at her again, his one arm pulling her leg towards face. She screamed as she kick her legs widely in his direction. He had a strong hold of her right leg, so she kicked with her left hitting the walker square in the jaw, with a sickening snap and the walkers jaw disconnected from his face. She kicked his face again and again, his face turning turning to a dark bloody mush. Eventually his body went limp, but she continued to kick until she could no longer.
Her weakened body collapsed against the cold forrest floor once more, but she did not rest long. Spotting her bag and weapons, she crawled towards them. She stopped when she reached her knife, clutching it in her bloody hand. Holding it tightly she allowed herself to rest again, but not like before. She knew now she wanted to live, she would not give into the oblivion.
As she rested she recalled the questions.
How many walkers have you killed.
Nine te... Twenty
How many people have you killed?
Four
Why?
She recalled the events leading her to this point. She had lost her father, her sister, and her people. She had been taken from Daryl, her last friend. She had been locked in a cage. She had been raped.
"So I could live" she whispered to the forrest, in response to its silent questions.
