Prologue: The Hunt

It was a chilly morning in Dahlonega, Georgia as a young woman named Niya softly ran through the forest following a fresh trail of a deer whose hoofprints were heavily read through the mud. The trail was long-legged as though the deer was running, and soon the footprints became closer together. A sign the deer was slowing down. The young woman did the same and began to track carefully through the foliage. Any broken trig, any parting of the leaves, was a clue for her to follow. Soon she came upon an opening where what she was hunting was standing only a few feet away from her. Steadying her breathing, she slowly crouches down as she carefully retrieves the bow off her back. Looking at her target in front of her, she makes a soft whistling sound as she retrieves the arrow and begins to place its shaft on the arrow rest. The deer turns its head at the sound, as it moves its ears around to determine which way the sound came from. The deer takes a step forward opening up its body so that the woman could get a clearer shot at its lungs and heart.

When she takes aim, she hears a slight rustling in the distance, but she can't identify where it is coming from, but from the sounds of it, it sounds like someone isn't trailing far behind her. Looking back at her hunt, she draws back her bow and takes a deep breath as she releases her arrow. It whistles through the air as a hard thud is heard not far after the arrow has left it's resting place. The dear begins to run with its tail hung down. A sign that it has been hit. As she follows where the deer went, the rustling she heard from earlier is louder, and it seems to be moving at a very fast pace. There seemed to be a race going on, and she was determined to be the first.

When she arrived at the deer's resting place she was met with a crossbow in her face. Instinctively her hands went up to show she came in peace as she looked at the man whose face was mostly covered by his dark hair.

"My arrow was the first fatal; Lethal shot. It's mine."

The guy just stared at her, his crossbow still aimed at her head. She could hear him mumble under his breath as he stormed over to the deer and retrieved his arrow from the deer's high quarter. From what she could gather, they were trailing the same deer. They were probably even taking aim at the same time, and when she took her shot, he took his not far after. His arrow caught the deer on the run.

Taking a deep breath, the woman could tell how frustrated the man was before her. It made her think that he had more to feed than just him. How many more she couldn't be certain, but enough to cause her to worry.

"Hey."

Calling out to him, the man didn't even hesitate at the sound of her voice addressing him as he kept trucking along through the brush.

"Hey!"

She yelled in a commanding voice which seemed to get his attention. He stopped, juggling his arrow in his hand in deliberation before he finally turned his head to look over his shoulder at her. Sighing, Niya had only one question to ask him as she couldn't help but muse over the angel wings he had embroidered on the back of the black leather vest he was wearing.

"You have people?"

The man didn't say anything, but when his gaze fell from hers as soon as she asked, it let her know all she needed to know. Walking up to the deer she worked so hard to get, she pulled out her arrow and wiped the blood contents off it in the brush.

"Take it."

Niya says as she puts the arrow back in her quiver. The man turned fully towards her with a bewildered expression on his face. The only question she could read on him was, "Why?" and without skipping a beat she answered his unasked question.

"From the look on your face. You have a lot more to feed than I do. Consider it a peace offering. A gift. An I owe you. Whatever makes you feel better about taking it."

The man seemed to be skeptical at first, as though this was some sort of trap. A test maybe. Whatever it was she wasn't going to stick around to find out what questions he wanted to be answered. She began to head in the opposite direction he was going, but she didn't even make it five feet away from him before she heard his voice.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

The question caused her to stop in her tracks, but unlike him, she didn't turn around to face him. Lost in memories that will always haunt her mind as her hand tightened around her bow's grip. A tactic she uses to help her subdue her true emotions.

Clearing her throat, she answers his question as though she was answering it to herself.

"Not enough."

After she answered, she kept walking, but that didn't seem to stop the man from pursuing her. He caught up to her to the point where she was in earshot, and again he asked her another question.

"How many people?"

Niya couldn't help but swallow hard before answering him.

"I don't keep count. Don't need to."

When she heard him start to come closer, she knew she had to think of a way to get rid of him. So she stopped and turned slightly toward him.

"You best get back to that deer before the dead men come for it. Would hate to see it go to waste."

She knew feeding his people was more important than following some stranger into the woods who could be leading you down the path of the unknown. Besides, if he really wanted to find her, he could come back and track her down. Something he was clearly good at.

The further she got away from the man, the quieter his footsteps became. It made her let out a breath of relief as she did all she could to cover up her trail, but even she knew she couldn't cover up her trail completely. Just enough to slow em' down so that by the time they find their camp, they would be long gone.

When Niya arrived back, she couldn't help but notice her father sitting on a rotting out log by a small fire. He must have built it while she was away. It was an achievement all in itself. Her father was more of a man to put them out than starting them. His eyes seemed fixated at the flames to the point where he didn't even realize she had entered in their lined out parameter of hanging cans. Her father looked tired as his grays around his head made it seem like he wore a black crown atop his head. Putting her bow down along with the quiver on her back, she stopped in mid-motion as her father finally spoke.

"You get it?"

She was quiet for a moment. Wondering if she should tell him what really happened or lie. The man she came in contact with seemed harmless enough, but if her dad found out about him there is no telling what he may do.

"No. Lost her at the river."

When he didn't respond with some sort of inquiry of how or some reassurance that there is always the next time, Niya looked over to her father who seemed to have his mind on other things. It was almost like he wasn't listening to her at all.

"Dad?"

She kept calling out to him while she slowly moved in closer so not to startle him before she crouched down beside him, and slowly places a hand on his knee.

"Colt?"

He began to blink his eyes frantically as he looked over at his daughter with a masked smile of reassurance that he was alright, but she could see through his facade. All she had to do was look down at his trembling hands.

"Can't you just call me dad?"

He chuckled as she took a seat beside him and smiled.

"I would. If you responded to it."

Niya's smile slowly faded as a look of concern took over her face.

"Is everything alright?"

When she asked the question, Colt couldn't help but look at his trembling hands before trying to cover them up by rubbing them together.

"Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind is all. We have a lot of ground to cover, and a lot of work ahead of us. If we're lucky, your grandfather will be alive. Would make everything a whole lot easier if we had his help."

Niya grew quiet as she threw some random brush into the fire. Her grandfather missed the old ways of living. So he bought himself some land away from everyone and everything. Was going to build an old town where people could come together and be one with nature. Where the only light you got was either from sunlight, the moon, the stars, and flames you created by using nature's gifts and your own two hands.

"You think the trading post will work?"

She asked as she looked over at her father over her shoulder.

"I think so, " he answered with a simple nod of his head. "It's human nature to want to help others. It's something that's been embedded in us. Right now people don't know what to do or what to think. What they had before is gone but, we can give some of that back to them. We can provide them with jobs that pay with hot meals. Some place they can sleep, and be protected. We can give them normalcy. Help them rediscover their humility."

When she grew quiet he looked over at her in worry. He didn't want her to lose hope in what they could do.

"You have that much doubt in our humanity?"

She sort of shrugs like she was uncomfortable with the subject. Unsure on how to really respond.

"It's not that I have doubts. It's just the reality of the situation. Things are different now. Everything is scarce and people are looking at each other like they're the enemy. They aren't looking at each other for help. People pose a threat. More of a threat than the dead men."

"Why can't you be optimistic? Have a little faith. I know you saw a lot of shit when you were in the military, but you know as well as I do, all it takes is one."

Colt holds up his index finger to his daughter.

"One person to stand up, offer their hand, and do something to turn things around. Even if it's just one person. Your mom was that one person for me. You were that person for Mia."

The sound of her little sister's name caused Niya to tense up. Her jaw clenched as her eyes began to water before she looked into the flame before her and spoke firmly and yet softly.

"Don't say her name."

Colt's face saddens as he goes to reach out to Niya. To offer some sort of comfort.

"Niya-"

Moving her shoulder away from him, she holds up her hand.

"Don't. Just... Don't."

Standing up, Niya walks into the woods leaving her father alone. He knew she was very close to her sister, and that she blames herself for her death, but she shouldn't take all the responsibility. The blame. He was just as much at fault as she was if not more. Just the thought of Mia, and all who they have lost to get where they were now caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably.