Day 1097

T. Church

As he stared at Rook's flailing, undead corpse – pinned to the wall by Kirk's knife – Church felt a rage boil in his stomach that he could not withold. Rook had been his only friend in this group and now he was dead.

Turning on his heel and deciding he would deal with the roamer later, Church slowly ambled out of the shed, inhaling deeply through his nose. He turned past the shed and spied the other four bandits still eating.

"I heard you drop that can," Hazel muttered, "Bet Rook didn't take that lightly, huh? Wasting food?"

Church glared at Kirk. "Rook didn't do anything." He snarled.

"Whaddya mean?" Carson questioned. "Did he just stare at you for a couple seconds till you turned and walked out?"

"You seen Kirk's knife anywhere?" Church proposed. "Probably not, because it's in Rook's chest right now and he's a fucking roamer."

"The fuck?!" Carson shuddered. "What the fuck?! I thought we were supposed to stick up for each other, Kirk, now you're just goin' round killin' Rook?!"

Kirk shrugged. "Though Church'd keep quiet about it, but yeah. Stabbed him in his sleep. Been trying for a week but he was awake every time I went near him – until last night."

"Why'd you do it, Kirk?" Hazel asked, emotionless. She didn't at all care about Rook's death, just the motives of his murderer.

Kirk stared down at his can and carried on eating. "Got tired of him stoppin' me from eatin'. Got fed up of him leadin' and his shitty rules."

Church stared him down. "Those rules keep us alive."

"Now I'm in charge, I'll make new rules that keep us alive. You can't be jacking off to the thought of Rook all your life, Church."

A memory passed through Church's head; Rook saying "I need you on my side, Church. Gotta make sure you've got my back, brother. If they start challenging my authority then you gotta help me enforce it."

As the words faded from his mind, the masked man took a step closer. "You ain't leadin' no one." he snarled.

"Oh, yeah?" Kirk chuckled, getting to his feet. "Who's gonna stop me? You think I killed Rook by myself? Who was on watch last night to let me get in that shed and do it?"

Church's eyes fell on Hazel, but she shook her head. "Fell asleep." she grunted. The man looked over at Jethro, whose eyes narrowed at him. "Rook had to go." he mumbled.

"If you think you can go through both of us, you're welcome to try." Kirk laughed.

Church shook his head and turned in the direction of the shed to deal with Rook's dead body.

"Yeah, I thought so." Kirk called. "I knew you were a coward, Church – you're too much of a bitch to show your face!"

Halting on the spot, Church tilted his head back and inhaled through his nose once again. Just as he had in the shed, he span on the ball of his foot – tearing up some grass – and stormed over to Kirk.

The shorter man took a step backwards, realising his error, but Church did not relent. He lifted the man up by the material of his shirt, showing the group he was in fact as strong as his form suggested, and dropped him by the shed. Kirk hesitated for a second until Church thrust his palm into the side of his head, forcing it to collide with the flimsy metal wall and creating a considerably sized dent. Dazed, Kirk leaned forward and Church pummeled him with a left hook to the jaw, sending him sprawling onto the grass.

Church felt someone grab the material of his shirt, holding his hands behind his back. Looking over his right shoulder he spied Jethro restricting his arms and giving Kirk time to get up. The beaten bandit got to his feet and prepared a heavy fist which he slung into Church's stomach, winding him. Struggling to break free Church was hit once again, then Jethro stamped on the back of his leg, forcing him onto his knees.

Kirk chuckled and reached for his blade, forgetting that it was still embedded in Rook's chest. Once he resgistered that the weapon was missing his face fell and Jethro looked at him, buying Church time to jerk his head forward and pull the latter inwards and lose his balance. Jethro forgot to keep hold of Church and the bandit sprung to his feet, spinning round to punch him in the face.

As he attacked on Jethro, Kirk planted his fist between Church's kidneys, causing him to reel back in pain. He recovered as Jethro charged towards him, fist held back, and caught the man's hand as it was thrown at his head. Jethro couldn't stop in time and Church pushed against the force of his fist, causing him to scream in pain as his upper arm was put in a place it shouldn't have been able to go. Staggering back, Jethro clutched his arm in pain.

Kirk, however, did not relent just yet. Church swivelled to face him just as he was ready to charge. The bearded man's brow creased and his eyes narrowed as he made a beeline for his target, but as soon as he came within a metre something beyond Church's control slammed against the side of his head, knocking him into the side of the shed and rendering him unconscious.

Carson, wielding the heavy wooden plank which had just knocked Kirk out, turned and nodded at Church, then looked over his shoulder at Jethro. They glared at him for a second until Hazel repeated Carson's actions and they were left with two unconscious... 'traitors'.

"No fuckin' way am I livin' under him." Carson muttered. "And you, Church, you don't take any shit."

Hazel looked at her new leader. "Whadda we do with them?" she asked.

Church folded his arms slowly. "Strip them of weapons and wait till they wake up. Then we ensure that we have their loyalty."

"And if we don't?"

In no mood to take anyone's shit, Church simply stated "We break them."

Carson grinned. "I like your style."

The new group leader pointed at the shed. "Carson, you take car of Rook and retrieve Kirk's weapon. Its yours now. In fact, anything either of you want, you can have."

Hazel smirked at him. "You're more fit for this than I expected."

Church glanced at her, then turned away, wincing as he heard Carson grunt with effort as he thrust Kirk's knife into Rook's undead head.

"Ouch. That's gotta sting." Hazel remarked.

Church snorted. "You should've stayed awake."

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know they were going to kill Rook."

Shaking his head, Church almost formed a reply but the conversation was cut off as something brushed through the bushes and trees surrounding them. Lifting the back of his shirt Church retrieved a revolver from the waistband of his trousers.

"How long have you had that?" Hazel asked, concerned. "Why didn't you just shoot-"

"Quiet." Church hissed.

The two of them glanced around the clearing, following the noise as it passed through the brush. Church aimed his revolver at the trees, but pulled back as a man broke through the undergrowth, throwing his hands into the air as soon as he saw the bandits, gasping "Shit!"

Church studied him silently; he had a blue and white hoody, a mess of brown hair and was stained with blood.

"Don't hurt me." the man gasped. "Please."

"We should take his things." Hazel advised, but Church shook his head.

"He has nothing we want." he told her. "Hey, you; what's your name? What happened to you?"

"Oh, thank God," the man gasped, sighing with relief. "Listen – there's a herd coming this way, from the East. If you're going you need to go now." His eyes fell on the unconscious bodies of Kirk and Jethro, then he looked back up at the masked form of Church nervously. "Look, if you promise you won't kill me, I can help you out. I need to get back to my people."

"I didn't ask for help," Church retorted. "I asked for your name."

"All right, take it easy, pal." The man took a deep breath before revealing his identity. "Name's Lyle."