I crouched low to the rain-washed dirt, twigs pushing into my pale skin only to leave reddened scratches flush against it. The moans had become much louder now, the dragging of broken limbs heavier. The air was tainted with the smell of rotting flesh and smoke hung in a haze that partially obscured my view. Buildings stood like skeletons, empty now that the death toll was in the billions. From each side of the barren city Decayers came stumbling through, leaving little choice but for me to crawl down a nearby alleyway. I walked along the cobbled ground on aching feet that I had learned to ignore. The hollowed shops like a forest of stone, bunched so tightly together that their roofs were almost touching. I saw the opening in front of me, like a beacon of light in the dark passage. I had almost made it out before a corpse appeared and blocked my exit. It had a sloppy gait as it approached me, jaw so broken that its mouth hung open, tongue lolling around with every jolted step. In my surprise I had fumbled around my pocket for my gun, gaze icing over as I pulled the trigger... nothing. Just an empty click.
"Fuck!" The curse flew from my lips like a ritual now, such a large part of my vocabulary that any vile meaning it once had no longer applied.
I had forgotten that I was out of ammo... that was the whole reason I was back here, to find the stash I had hidden. I doubted it was still there after the long year of scavenging but weapons were so hard to come by now that any slim chance of it being there was worth the risk. The handgun was swiftly placed back into my pocket, other hand reaching to a holder wrapped tightly around my leg. The throwing knife had barely touched my palm when I threw it at the Decayer, sharp blade piercing its eye in a bloody mess. The body fell, one last groan leaving its throat. That was my cue, and I wasted no time in taking it. With a sharp inhale I pulled the knife out of the corpses eye with a squelch, peeking my head out from the alley to check for any more of the bastards. All clear. In fact, it was too clear. Moments like these reminded me how hopeless the world had become. No birds, no ants, no anything. Even flies were a rarity and even then they hung around the dead more than the living.
The silence was equally comforting as it was unnerving, but it was enough to get me moving again at least. I only stopped when I made it to my destination, swinging the door open and shutting it with a quiet creak. All around me the walls seemed to whither. Paint peeled off like a molting snake and everything inside was covered with a coating of dust. My fingers ran against the building, pausing at each door frame long enough for me to look inside. I couldn't remember the layout of the large home, but I knew what the room looked like. I had it in my head like a picture that I never allowed my mind to put down.
Finally, I came to a worn door. The handle was hanging off of it as if someone had made their way in by force. As a result it refused to close properly but sat as if a person had tried to regardless. A bang sounded from the inside, then everything went quiet once more. It wasn't a walker then. They'd make a lot more noise. I felt my shoulders visibly tense at the alternative, teeth gritting together as I reached a hand to the doors wooden surface. Only fools feared the dead above the living, and so the amount of dread that engulfed me when I pushed open the door was immense.
The room slowly revealed itself, bit by bit until figures came into my line of sight. Soon it became clear that it wasn't just a few people in that room but a whole group. Not only that, but I recognized the place instantly. This was where I had put my stash... and as they were revealed I saw that each of them carried my weapons in their shaking hands. The last to be uncovered was a fairly tall man with a body as slim as most people in the apocalypse. He looked to be in his mid to late 30s with dark brown wavy hair and stubble dotted over his chin, cheeks and upper lip. I barely had time to analyse him before the barrel of his gun was shoved to my forehead.
"What are you doing here?" He growled in a thick southern accent.
My pale blue eyes narrowed at the man, teeth baring at the threat like a feral dog. I had seen what people could do to others in this decomposing world, it no longer came as any shock.
"You might wanna put that gun down before you hurt yourself." I finally replied.
"Answer the question." The man pushed the gun harder against my skin with a scowl. "Don't test me, I will shoot you."
My eyes flicked around the room cautiously taking in the faces stuck glaring at me. Two children (one boy and one girl), three women, and five men including the one with a gun to my head. My eyes halted on the last. A man in his early 20s with jet black hair and eyes resembling rich soil. He looked as if he were opposed to the idea of threatening a stranger, but didn't say a word.
"I came for that." I stated simply, directing towards the sack still filled to the brim with bullets. "They're mine."
"Not anymore they ain't." Another snapped, leaning against a small table with his dark brown hair looking like strands of hay and just as dry.
"I know how this works, you don't need to inform me." I hissed back. "You found them, they're yours."
The one angling the weapon at me dropped his arm with a sigh. At this I felt a twinge of surprise. I was expecting to leave with nothing less than a bullet through the leg. The one near the table, however, didn't look as relieved. His eyes stayed on me like many assholes I had met on the road. He was lost to this world, even that was apparent to me.
"Just gonna let her go, Rick?" He said in anger, trying to grasp onto any form of leadership he still had.
"What you want me to do? Kill her?" The other said back in a tone of defiance. "She ain't done nothin' to us, Shane!"
"Not yet she hasn't but how can you guarantee that she won't?!"
There was a moment of stillness, nothing but the glare between two men to fill the atmosphere. Rick pocketed his gun in an attempt to show that this wasn't up for argument, but Shane only seemed more enraged by his leadership being ignored.
"Leave her be." Was the sentence that broke through the silence.
"You'll get us all killed." Shane's hands clenched to fists at his side, looking to the little boy in the room. "You'll get your son killed."
"She doesn't seem like a threat." A voice spoke up from the side. "We've got her weapons and her ammo, how do you expect that she'll be a danger without them?"
"Stay out of this, Glenn." The man gave a scoff at the group, looking back to Rick as if he were insane. "Fine. If you won't do it, then I will."
A shotgun was suddenly aimed toward me and I felt myself back into the wall with a gasp. Fear traveled in my veins but never made it to my facial muscles or skin. My complexion remained pale and stoic, my stare steady on the man. After being in so many groups and watching so many die, a gunshot seemed like one of the better ways to go. That did nothing to cease the terror immobilizing me though. I heard the familiar click, Shane's finger hovering over the trigger. There was a loud bang. One that echoed through the building and rung through my ears. However, I felt no pain. I opened my eyes, glancing over to see the barrel of his gun smoking and Glenn with his hand pushing it away. There were holes in the wall beside me but I paid little attention to it with my heart racing at such a speed.
"We don't need to kill her!" He yelled now, pulling his hands back away. "We don't kill innocents."
Behind him an old man with a fishers hat nodded in agreement, stepping up beside him as if it counted as a vote. I could see that the Shane bastard wanted to argue, or maybe even fight, but he didn't get the chance to. The gargled groans were all we needed as warning, Rick rushing to the window and peering out of it. His hand slammed against the sill.
"Walkers!" He shouted, no further explanation was needed. It was common for each group to call them by different names, but either way it always meant the same thing. The tone was a dead giveaway.
"You idiot!" My rage spilled out at Shane. "You lead them right to us!"
The children were quickly embraced by their mothers, expressions of horror glued to their faces. I wasn't going to stay long enough to see anymore. Giving a look of pure hatred to the man that almost shot me, I rushed back to the door. I would have run out without a second thought if Rick's voice hadn't called out to me.
"Wait!" His voice wavered despairingly. "Do you know a way out of the city?"
"Wouldn't have come here if I didn't." I answered simply.
"Please... take us with you."
I snorted in amusement. "Take you after you tried to kill me?"
"We don't have time for this." Shane grabbed my arm tightly and pressed the gun back against me. "Take us now or I'll finish the job."
"I don't take well to threats." I spat back, yanking myself out of his grip. "Find your own way out."
One look out the window showed us a shifting army of half-rotted people, their once pristine clothing now tattered and soaked in dark crimson. It wouldn't be long before they found their way inside, even less until they'd seal off every exit. My legs braced to sprint away, back turning before another voice came. An older one, slightly adenoidal and shaky.
"Shane was wrong, but don't judge us all on one mans actions." He said, a hand on my shoulder that had me peering over in curiosity to see the oldest man in the group again. "You're not a bad person, I can see that. You wouldn't leave children to their deaths, would you?"
The guilt trip wasn't uncommon, but this man was better at it than most others. He reached toward any humanity I had remaining and it was something I couldn't dismiss. I tried sorting through my web of conflicting thoughts, tilting my gaunt face at them with a loud huff. Not only were there kids, but I'd be dead already if it weren't for Glenn. I couldn't within good conscience leave him.
"Fine, follow me... and try to keep up. I won't be coming back if any of you fall behind."
There wasn't a sound from any of them but that only assured that they understood. Either that, or they were too afraid that if they asked me to repeat it that I would decide to abandon them. It would have been easier if I could have. Such a large group moving all at once was sure to attract attention, but I couldn't bring myself to leave them there after agreeing to lead them out. I was stuck between a world that had once shaped me to be compassionate, and another that was hardening me to solid stone. I took out my throwing knives, blood still dripping from one of the blades as I marched out. The group followed not too far behind, Glenn closest of all.