Moxie was alone. The being, only a child of fourteen was stranded in a city contained with the undead. Years ago this disease taken over Atlanta, years ago she was still so innocent, still so young. She was twelve then...didn't understand what the hell was happening. The child only knew that those...those things wanted to eat her. She hated the walkers. Hated them for what they've done.
The teenager leaned against the brick of a structure, holding her wounded arm close to her heaving chest. A sweat glistened on her skin, the hot summer sun beating down on the pavement, enveloping everything in a muggy haze. Moxie's green eyes momentarily shut. Damn...damn...god damn everything. Of course she just had to get hurt, of course. It was only for a can of food and that damn...old man pierced the skin of her left forearm with a knife. Ruby liquid poured down her epidermis, splattering the pavement with each step that she took. A pain electrified her body, the limb shaking and throbbing. She had to fix it. She had to mend the wound before the walkers smelt her blood, before they would be after her to consume her flesh.
The girl gritted her teeth, pushing up from the wall, blood coating her hand like a blanket. The hurt...the searing pain bounced off her nerves as she ran. The combat boots upon her feet pounding against the cement, her heart racing along with the beats. A pharmacy...her green eyes locked on the building. That was her only hope. The location could have everything she needed.
Though she heard them, the walkers' grunts and groans. They smelt her blood and they were coming after her. She had to be quick, or else the teen was road kill. Another meal for those freaks to feast upon. Hell no! Moxie would never want to be berated in a death scene such as that. She wanted to die saving her brother. She had to save him first before death's wings could even think about consuming her. She had to survive. For him. For her baby brother.
The dirty blonde sprinted, quickly traveling into the pharmacy's doors, slamming the entrances shut. Moxie quickly reached for a nearby board, gasping and clenching her teeth, the walkers pounding against the glass. Their decayed bodies banging against the structure, mouths open and fangs ready to nash into any form of meat. Moxie's lips down turned into a frown, low growls leaving her tongue. The wood splintered her hand, her grasp tight and not ceasing, as she shoved it between the handles, before getting yet another piece...this time a metal rod and doing the same. Soon the doors were secure and she stood up, admiring her work. A wide smirk crossed her features, green eyes almost glaring at the walkers...daring for them to break open the door. Her right arm, the unharmed one, raised, and her middle finger only protruded. Her voice coming out slightly horse, as she hadn't spoken in awhile.
"Go fuck yourselves, assholes. You ain't eating me today."
And with that, the survivor turned her back, heading deeper within the pharmacy. She was alone. She was wounded. But she was sure as hell wasn't afraid.