I clasp my hands together and blow on them in attempt to get warmth, but my body lacks the ability of producing heat. My muscles are stiff and tight against the cold, motionless as the ground beneath me. I try to persuade myself to move, that if a pack of biters appear at any minute I will only be able to live long enough to suffer the feeling of having them feed on my flesh. I know I should get up, work the stiffness and get moving to find shelter before the sun goes down. But instead I stay on the ground.
The sky begins to get dimmer and I only watch as the darkness drags me into the time of day that tormented me the most. My chest tightens at the thought of how dark it's getting and having biters crawl all over me in the dead of the night, it all flashes through my head in an instant as the pale moonlight bore me into threat.
A guttural animal sound comes from behind one of the trees near me, I stand up almost too quickly and my head starts to spin for a few seconds. I point my weapon towards the source of the sound. I know for sure that a pair of scissors won't do the job if it's a herd, but I can't risk wasting another bullet and the sound will only bring more of them.
The biter began to creep towards me slower than a usual one does. My nose wrinkles in disgust at the sight of its missing arm and blood-soaked clothing. I watch as the biter crosses to the tree where I stand, and when its only two feet away I stab my scissor into its skull, killing it instantly
It falls face forward, his head could've fell straight onto my boots and poured its brains all over them but I step back before it does. I kneel forward a little bit in attempt to get my scissor back, but it's stabbed too deep into its brains that the thought of even touching it makes me sick to my stomach.
I turn around and scan the area, it's too early to go to sleep and too late to go on a scavenging trip so I walk a few yards away from the biter that's lying next to last night's campfire and settle in for the night.
The place is quiet so I start another fire as the night approaches; I count the number of matches left in the matchbox before making a final decision. Five matches left for five nights, and then I'm going to have to look for more supplies or else I might die freezing. I use the pile of firewood and rocks I collected the night before to create a new hearth, I slip a small piece of cloth in between the wood to guarantee the fire will start and then throw a match in and start a fire. I sit before the hearth and warm myself.
My stomach growls, consequently I grab my backpack that's filled with supplies; one change of clothes, canned food, a bottle of water and an empty flask along with my handgun and the twelve bullets I have left. I get the flask out first, then pour water into it and place it on top of the fire; I sit there staring gloomily into the fire as I wait for the water to boil
I pour some into an empty soup can that I recycled and now pretend it's a legitimate mug; I usually have it hanging by a thread that is wrapped around my backpack's zipper. I drink the hot water, trying to remember the taste of hot tea in my mouth. Then using a knife I open one of the soup cans and gulp it all in less than a minute.
After I'm done feeding and warming myself, I stash all my things into my backpack, leaving the empty can on the ground, if I'm lucky enough I'll wake up in the morning to a squirrel feeding on what's left of the soup and I'll be able to have a much more nutritious dinner.
Worried a biter might overrun my little camp and feed on me; I put out the fire and choose the nearest tree to climb, I know for sure they can't climb or jump so I'm safe for the night. I make my way up, staying close to the trunk; I picked the widest branch to lie on and cling on the trunk and test the branch's weight capacity, my judgments are confirmed and I'm good for the night. I hang my backpack on the nearest branch and secure it and myself with a rope.
After clearing my doubts, I adjust my resting position and stare up at the sky until my body shuts down and it does momentarily.
I wake up after what feels like an hour later to a mildly loud noise, I don't know whether I'm hallucinating or just desperate. But it doesn't stop for a couple of minutes and I know there's someone out there. The crunching hits my ear and before I can untie the rope to check it out, they're standing right below me, and when I look downwards I realize that they're only less than four feet apart from the branch where I sit so I force myself to hold my ground.
"What are you doing?" I hear someone sputter. I swallow nervously as I try to get a glimpse.
"You told me to go check it out." A rough voice responds and I haul into a sitting position, I watch the two men as they both contemplate over the fire that is still belching white smoke.
"What?" The other's voice gets as low as a whisper.
"This was your idea, to go check it out, the campfire, that one over there." One points at last nights fire and they both head to check it out. They are both far enough for me to climb down without being seen. "This one's older than that one. That one has been put out only a couple of hours ago." He points.
I sit up and untangle the rope that's securing my supplies and keeping my stuff and myself from falling. I look around hoping that these people won't see me. You can't trust anyone or be sure that people won't kill you for food and supplies.
The two men start to get closer to my tree and they surround it, examining the place and searching for tracks. I look closely with my eyes-wide open as one of them crouches before my hearth and the other goes to see the dead biter. I glare at them when they near enough for me to see what they look like. They both have dark hair; one of them wears a baseball hat and looks scrawny and young. The other –the one who's crouched before the fire– is wearing a biker's jacket and has a crossbow slung over his shoulder. They have flashlights and heavy weaponry dangling on their shoulders. I'm guessing they have a camp and plenty of supplies.
They look intimidating and I made the decision not to approach them. But one of them suddenly held the flash light up near my tree. I curl along with my things and try to hide, but the branch I lie on starts to shake and screeches, the guy with the biker's jacket points his crossbow at my direction.
"Could be a squirrel." The guy with the hat proposes. "Or maybe it's Sophia. Let's just make sure she isn't up there."
The other guy lets out a sigh, "Sophia!" He calls out and waits. I try to remain silent. "I don't think Sophia's up there, the tree is too high, there aren't enough branches to support her weight." He drops his cross bow and walks closer to the tree and holds up a flashlight. "Sophia!" He hollers again.
"There's someone up there?" The scrawny one asks in a delighted tone.
The bowman doesn't respond and instead holds the flashlight in his mouth and start climbing up the tree. I quickly untie the rope and try to jump down the tree but he grabs my ankles and prevents me from getting away so I hit him square in the jaw with my free foot and we both fall. I let out a groan when my back hits the ground with a jolt of pain that goes right up my spine and as I struggle to get up the heavy bag falls on my head creating a small gash on the side of my face. I push it aside and scramble to my feet and when I look up I see a crossbow and a gun pointed at my direction.
I pull out a knife and extend my arm in a threatening manner as I back away slowly to get a hold of my bag, when I get to it I see that all of its contents are thrown onto the ground including the handgun. I get a hold of the gun and then look up to find the tip of an arrow inches away from my face.
"Put down the pistol." the bowman orders.
The man with the hat looks uncertain and puts down his rifle, but doesn't try to talk his friend out of it. I shake my head, declining.
"Daryl, just ask her if she's seen Sophia. That's what we came out here for." The skinny Asian guy says.
I glance sideways and start to plan my escape, it's dark and the woods are covered in heavy greenery but I don't know what these people are capable of. "I don't know who Sophia is." I say.
They exchange glances and I run a split second after they take their eyes off of me. I leave my bag and only get away with the gun, my knife and jacket and disappear into the woods. Even though it's dark and I'm running as fast as I can, the two are right behind me and only within a shooting distance, but they don't shoot.
"Stop!" They yell as they chase me across the woods. "Stop or we'll shoot!" I don't stop and continue running deeper into the woods. I don't hesitate to pause so to catch a breath and run until I end up in the middle of nowhere.