Chapter 1: The Compromise
Chapter One
The leaves crunch lightly under my quick feet, I leave the minimum amount of tracks possible, but it's hard with a tag-a-long. I found this kid hiding in some tree house, alone and cold. I asked if his parents or group was around and he just shook his head, and he didn't really object when I offered him to come with me. I didn't really want to leave the poor kid, so I just kinda took him. He's been with me for the past few days, he seems okay so far; he knows to stay quiet, stay down, and when walkers come - to stay out of my way.
His name is Colby; he has dark brown skin and black eyes with a growing fro. I should probably trim it down for him, or else he'll start to look like the fresh prince of Bellaire. He seems to have adapted well to the infection, the only real 'bad' habit of his is that he likes to hold my hand when walking, which is not all bad, it just slows me down from my gun.
The number of walkers seems to have dropped within the past hour or so, I've been counting how many I've seen for the day so I can make predictions, but today seems like an outlier; or that we've stumbled on another group.
I really don't like groups, they always break up, they never want to stay in motion. They want to keep safe in one place; but what they seemed to fail to learn from history that walls always get breached. Some sooner than later, and sooner seemed to be a theme with the groups that I was a part of.
I've been with, oh, about four groups since shit hit the fan. First group lasted nine days; yeah, nine! I was the only one to make it out alive, and that's only because my neighbors were being eaten by a herd of walkers. My second group lasted a tad longer, four months, we spit, we couldn't agree on where to move. I left in the night leaving a note; I came back to the sight a few weeks later to see a bunch of empty tents and most of them shot or gone, I never did figure out what happened to them. My third group consisted of an ex and his family, yeah, talk about awkward. I was with them for around, uh, two months, a herd came by and killed his family, leaving only us, I left as soon as I could, I assume he got bit or something. And lastly my fourth and final group, boy, that one was the worst. It was me, some army brats and some military families. It ended up with an all-out brawn of who-has-the-better-guns, I ended up killing a man who wasn't a walker, it's not my first time, but that doesn't mean it was all-okay.
And then after months and months of being on my own, leaving people who needed my help, killing a few people here and there, I found Colby, alone and starving in a tree house. Funny how we found each other, huh?
Colby's grip tightened as he gasped and pointed straight ahead, I squinted my eyes to focus on what I saw was an old prison. He tugs on my arm when I stopped walking; he tugged for a few more seconds and then said, "Florence!" he looked up at me and smiled, "I see plants! That means someone's living there!"
"Heh," I laughed a little, "plants are everywhere, Colbs."
"No! Like, garden plants! I think I see tomatoes and peas!" He gets a little louder and I have to bring my finger to my mouth to remind him to stay quiet.
"I assume you want to check it out?"
"Pleaseeeeeee!" he pleads, I can't say so when he begs like that. So he and I make our way to the prison, it's funny how just a year or so ago I was all the way up in New York, now I'm in Georgia, this is Georgia, right?
We make it to the edge of the woods and my vision clears a little, and I see a father and a son, and Asian boy and a tall brown haired woman. Holy cow, there are people living in here, like, normal people, living like the dead are not just trotting around eating living people. What else do they have in there, a baby? Do they have some sort of zombie-school going on?
We start walking around the fences when one of the people see us, then all of the sudden they all retrieve their guns and make their way towards the fence. Sheesh, we were looking at your vegetable garden, not looking to take over your sanctuary.
A bearded man makes his way to the fence, gun pointed at me, "What are you doing here?" he asks me in his thick southern twang.
"Just moving around, a herd moved into the neighborhood that we were hiding in, so we moved along." I grip Colby's hand, "Just passing through."
"Do you want to stay here?" he suddenly asks.
"Yeah!" Colby blurts, "I hate moving so much."
"I have to ask the lady you're with three questions, are you okay with that, sir?" He asks Colby.
"Of course!" Colby flashes the man a smile, and he leads us to the gate. This place sure is heavily guarded. We are kinda-sorda greeted at the gate by the Asian boy, his appearing-to-be girlfriend, an old bearded man, some guy with a crossbow and a black guy with a crazy look in his eye.
"Imma' have to ask you to strip of all your weapons." The man tells me, "all of em'"
"Sure, will I get them back?"
"After I ask you some questions." He leads us to a cell clock titled C, where I strip of all my weapons (which is a lot), and we sit at a table and it's just the three of us. "My name is Rick, by the way." He quickly adds.
"I'm Florence, and the kid is Colby."
"Okay, Florence," He stops everything he is doing and looks at me, "how many walkers have you killed?"
"You just asked the vaguest question," I smile, "every single one I could, so, a lot."
"Okay, how many people have you killed?" I stop dead in my words, why does he need to know that, I glace over at Colby who is assuming me to say zero, but I don't wanna' lie.
"Before or after the outbreak?" I look at him; by the look on his face I can tell no one's ever said that.
"Both." His facial expression hasn't changed.
"Well, before, several," I look at the table, "and after, four."
"Why?" He quickly asks.
"Before, I was a sniper for the military, trained in distance combat, and our platoon got raided and I got a few with an old knife," I look over to Colby, "And after, someone I trusted tried to kill me, scavengers attempted to kill me for supplies, and a women tried to kidnap me and sell me." Rick nodded his head and eventually walked away, saying he needs to talk to some council.
"Florence," Colby squeaks, "I didn't know you were in the military."
I look over at him and rub my hand on his head, "Yeah, that's why I'm so good at what I do."
"My Daddy was in the military." He whispers, fighting tears.
"C'mon, Hun." I open my arms out inviting him in for a hug, which he generally accepts. He lets a few tears seep out before drying up just in time for Rick and a few people to come into the room.
"You're welcome to stay here." Rick announces, "We could use your skill, and now you and Colby have a safer place to stay." The people behind him all seem to glance at us, judging us by their own standards. Some of the people where at the gate when we first arrived.
"So," I break the ice, "my guns."
"Oh yeah," A woman with short grey hair blurts, "They're all in the box over there, you sure do have a lot of guns and knives."
"You always have to be prepared." I smile and get out of my chair with Colby loyally following me. I click all my things into place, my pistols at my hips, my Bowie knifes tucked into my military boots, my backup pistol in the inside sleeve of my vest, my survival knife in my pocket, and Thomas, my M24, over my shoulder. This bad boy has saved my life many more times than I can count, against foes both dead and living.
Colby sits in awe, watching as I put my babies back in their place one by one. "Can you teach me how to use one of those things?" He locks his eyes on my pistol; I chuckle and stretch my arms out.
"Maybe someday Colbs, when your older and when your hands aren't so shaky." He sighs, I remember being his age and wanting to play with guns and whatnot. But back then you could get an airsoft gun and go at in the backyard with old soda cans. But now, you'd have to use a real gun, and I don't know if I want to let an eight-year-old play with my weapons.
"How long where you in the military?" Colby and I's moment was broken by women with brown skin.
"Twelve years," I look over my shoulder, hands on my holsters, "why?"
"No reason, just curious to your experience." She flashes a smile and they all evacuate the room and leave the door open, I guess it's okay for Colby and me to walk among them. I start walking for the door when Colby grabs my hand; I secretly smile as we walk to the door. We are making a new life for us, even if it's not my way; I'm willing to give it a try. I just hope this doesn't turn out like my past groups, for mine and Colby's sake.