Prologue [Of heat, crickets and decisions]

It's a very strange world after all. The strangest I would say if other worlds existed but, truth to be told, I'm not so sure this one exists anymore either.

It was hot, so hot that you could've seen the sky mirrored on the concrete and you could've felt little beads of sweat racing each other down your forehead until they met that so feared and gruesome end of falling into the hot nothingness. The footsteps echoed throughout the silence of the day, fighting for dominance with the sound of deep breaths drawn and few curses spoken in that perfect singing voice that sounded more like chiming of the bells than anything else.

She was just a girl of no more than eighteen, messy brown curls tied into a pony-tale, random strands bouncing up and down with every step. She seemed like nothing special and maybe that was just because she wasn't; nothing special that is. Just a small figure in the distance cutting through the silence like a rusty knife through a half-melted piece of butter. It was a beautiful and somewhat twisted allegory however no one really cared for fancy words anymore, as they lost their value long long time ago. Truth to be told it was silence that she craved for because there were only two choices – either deafening silence or the sound of your flesh being torn right off your bones.

"My name is Katherine, I am eighteen years old, was born in San Francisco..." She turned her head suddenly as her little mantra was interrupted by the sound somewhere nearby making her stop in her track and turn her head to the right as if waiting for something to appear from around the corner. Fingers were trailing the cold metal blade of the hunting knife that so comfortably rested against her thigh, ready to be used on anything — and anyone — that was lurking in the shadows. "Just the damn wind," she murmured to herself and after a second of hesitation the familiar sound of boots hitting the road resumed. "It's been seven months and twelve days since...since...this whole world went to shit."

Words that previously stung now meant nothing; it was more of a tactical step so not to go insane or not to forget, but somewhere deep inside she knew that the time of insanity was coming as there was that one simple question – just how long one can survive in the world like this before going completely numb and withdrawing back to the primal instincts of slay-eat-repeat? And in the end, was there something worth fighting for? She might've felt strong and she indeed felt alive, but maybe it was nothing more but her deceiving herself, pretending that there was some sort of a finish line that she needed to reach, a prize at the end of the labyrinth, a minotaur to kill and a town to save, but... There were no towns, there were no bounds and there was no light at the end of the tunnel anymore, no light that she was chasing so restlessly just so to bump into another brick wall and start again.

"Way to be optimistic, Katherine." She muttered in quite an annoyed manner while her fingers caught that rebellious strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. The backpack was beginning to weight her down or maybe it was the fact that all she managed to find was few cans of soup that would be enough for no more than few days. She swept the town clean during those few months of living there and she knew that the inevitable was closer than ever – she had to leave and find a new place to settle down before moving on once again. But she liked the town of Nowhereville , as she liked to call it, maybe just because she had it all memorized; every street and every corner, every shop, every house, every corpse of both humans and walkers alike rotting in the sun on the corner of what long long time ago was a peaceful neighbourhood with white fences and apple trees. The area was far from an American dream, but Katherine liked it nonetheless. It was her town and it ached to think about leaving.

The house — her house — was finally visible in the distance and she could almost feel the taste of safety of four walls and boarded-up windows in her mouth. Safety was everything those days and she was lucky to find a place to call home; funny how people could get so attached to something that was nothing else but a building right in the depths of hell. Probably others were the same, but she weren't able to vouch for the idea as she haven't seen anyone human in a very long while and so usually it seemed that the world was her own private nightmare that she was stuck in for an obscure amount of time.

"Home sweet home." She almost sang while locking and barricading the door with the dresser, already kicking off the heavy boots that felt like a pure torture to her feet. The house was quite a big one and that was one of the perks of living in the town alone – there was no competition and since the world went to hell real estate became easily obtainable. The corners of her mouth rose up just a bit, turning her expression into the one of dark glee that was caused by that one poor joke, but... Just how picky one could've been at times like those?

A knife sank into a metal of the can and after working on it for few more seconds it was open, filling the air with a faint aroma of chicken broth and making Katherine's mouth water at the very same time. She stopped being picky long long time ago and after all those months food that she once despised was the best thing to happen throughout the day. Even if cold and with bits of fat swimming in it, the can was quickly emptied and tossed aside as if it never existed to begin with. She fought the urge to doom the second one into the very same destiny and only after a minute of squinting at it she finally jumped up from the chair and strutted into the bedroom almost theatrically.

Even though the night was coming, the heat never disappeared and at some point she caught herself wandering if it ever would. So used to hearing crickets outside on hot summer nights, Katherine closed her eyes and tried to imagine the sound long forgotten only to find herself in a complete silence sometimes interrupted by the sound of her own failure. A sigh escaped her as she kicked and turned in her bed unable to sleep even though there was nothing else to do but that. She was restless just because her mind was made up – it was time to leave that cosy nest that she spent so much time in and finally move on into the unknown. The idea, the plan itself frightened her but at the same time she could taste that sweet spice of challenge awaiting. And she was nothing if not a survivor.