She'd kill him. Anna swore she would kill him. She thought it through over and over again in her head, could imagine every detail of what she would do to Tyler Anderson.
She thought of different scenarios in which she would see him again – if she survived alone. She nodded her head as she thought of each movement she'd make, estimated his reactions – she could feel blood pumping through her veins like ice – the adrenaline. The thought of ending the man's life was the only thing keeping her alive now. Her family could be dead, her friends – she had nothing, no one.
Anna paced in front of the tent, bringing her hand up to her mouth to roll her top lip between her index finger and thumb. Thinking about all of that could wait. She needed to keep digging.
Her fingers curled around the small shovel Evan had once brought back on a supply run. Her bottom lip began to tremble as she shoved the business end of the shovel into the dirt.
"Damn it." She murmured as tears spilled down her face.
Anna entered the tent, planning on getting Evan to eat again. She found that if she called him daddy, pretending to be his daughter, she had more luck.
"Hey…." Anna smiled, kneeling beside her friend. "It's time to eat, daddy."
Evan gave her a sad smile, shaking his head.
"Anna…," Her smile grew at the thought that maybe he was getting better. "I don't want you wasting any more food on me." The statement caused her face to drop. Opening her mouth to protest, Evan held his hand up weakly.
"Don't argue." He coughed suddenly, blood spraying out into the hand that went to cover his mouth. "I just want you to listen, okay?" Anna shut her mouth, letting out a frustrated huff before complying. "Anderson isn't going to come back in time." Anna bit the inside of her cheek, holding back her comments. "He's going to be very upset when he does return. Just… be patient with him. Okay?" Anna didn't reply. "There's just one more thing I need you to do for me…." He struggled to unclasp a bracelet from around his wrist. "I need you to give this to him… tell him to remember what he promised me – he'll understand."
He'll understand…. She sneered at the thought. What the fuck does it matter if he understands? I don't understand! Why did he leave us? Her mind continued to wander as she dug further into the earth.
"Because, he's an asshole." She snapped.
Behind her, inside the tent, came a rustling. She turned slowly, her eyes wide and brows furrowed in confusion.
"Evan?" Anna called hesitantly. The rustling grew more urgent at the sound of her voice. Her heart began to race in blind joy. She dropped the shovel and launched herself at the opening of the tent, making quick work of unzipping the entrance.
"Evan!" she smiled broadly, fully prepared to wrap her arms around her friend, when she felt the air leave her.
.
.
.
How the hell did I end up here, with this man, in a fucking tank? Anderson could not believe his luck – or lack of. He had been heading out of the city, finally, when a man on a horse came bounding down the street, leading a horde of walkers.
Anderson would have left that man behind. I should have. If it weren't for the fact that they were both surrounded, he would have kept going, returned to Anna and Evan, saved his best friend. However, now the two men were trapped inside of a tank.
Rummaging through his back-pack, Anderson checked over the medical supplies to ensure that none of it was broken – a single bottle of liquid morphine was the only casualty.
"Were you here for the Refugee Center, too?" Anderson snorted, looking up at his companion. "Then why?" He remained silent, zipping up his bag and tucking it behind him, as far from the stranger as possible. "My name is Rick Grimes. I'm a Sherriff's Deputy."
"Was." Anderson stated. Rick gave him a confused look. "You were a Sherriff's Deputy. That life is over now." Rick nodded his head in deep thought when the radio began to hiss.
"Hey! Are you alive in there?"
.
.
.
She hit the ground hard on her back.
"What are you doing?" She cried, trying to push Evan off her. "Get off!"
The world around her stopped as Evan reared back, letting out an inhuman roar. Without thinking, Anna reached out, grabbing the first thing she could touch – the shovel – and whipped it across Evans face, slicing his cheek open. He fell back before stumbling to his feet, not feeling the wound she had inflicted. Anna desperately scrambled for her gun.
On her feet, Anna aimed the gun at her friend.
"Evan! Please, just stop!" she cried, the tears falling freely. "Please!" He drew closer to her, his eyes hungry. "Evan!" Her hands shook, the gun unsteady, her heart pumping ice through her veins and thudding in her ears, but all she could truly hear was Evan – growling. "Please…."
His forehead split, a sharp edge poking out like a horn. He fell forward, no longer moving. Anna dropped to her knees, staring at what was once her friend, lying motionless in front of her.
She heard a twig break. Barely able to draw the strength to look up, she locked eyes with a new face.