I could hear the soft growls of the biters through the darkness that enfolded me. I know that they're pretty far away, and besides, they wouldn't be able to reach me on my high perch in this tree where I decided to make camp for the night.

You'd think that after almost two months of sleeping practically every night on a tree branch your back and neck would get used to it, but the constant pain every time I move my body begs to differ. The six-inch long cut in my side doesn't help much either, and I'm seriously doubting the staples and gauze are helping it heal.

I close my eyes, attempting to get some sort of rest during the few hours left of darkness…

Snap

My eyes fly open as I haul myself quickly into a sitting position, ignoring the sudden pain in my right side. The sounds continue as I reach down quietly into my boot, grabbing the small knife I keep stored in there—not risking the potential ruckus I'd make reaching for my bow and arrows.

Heavy breathing became more apparent as the minutes wore on; there was only one biter as far as I could tell. Its clumsy foot steeps got closer and I gripped my knife tighter, preparing to kill it the second I could get a clear view.

I peeked through the leaves, trying to see anything with only the aid of the light given off by the moon. But then I saw it; its back was to me, their short blond hair catching the little light out tonight. Then I jumped, sending a jolt of pain to my stomach the second my right foot hit the hard ground.

The biter turned around, quicker than usual, sending out a high pitched scream.

My knife stopped midway…biters don't scream…they can't scream.

The young girl before me crashed to the ground, curling into a fetal position, sobs pouring from her mouth.

"Hey hey hey, stop screaming." I whispered to the girl, kneeling down close to her, my hands moving in some sort of way to get her to quiet down. "The biters are going to hear you and then we're both dead."

The girl looked up, revealing the one of a child a few years younger than me. Tears were streaming down her dirt covered face which she didn't even bother wiping away. "I want my mommy." She hiccuped quietly.

"Your mum? Do you know where she is?" I almost hit myself right then and there—her mum's most likely dead, so I prepared myself for another round of hysteria.

"She's on the high way." She said through heaving sobs, "I got lost and now I can't find her."

I breathed a sigh of relief, the highway; I knew exactly where that was. But I knew we couldn't go now, the sun has yet to rise and traveling with a hysterical girl wouldn't be the wisest move.

"What's your name?"

"Sophia." She said, wiping her face with her arm, smearing the dirt that was coating her.

"Okay, Sophia" I sighed. "I'm Liz, and if you'll stop crying, I'll get you back to the highway. Alright?"