Ch. 32

'Collections Part one'

[Richmond, VA, evening]
Smoke rose silently into the air, light flickered across the broken glass that was scattered across the cracked and fractured pavement.
Summer trotted down the street, seeing the aftermath of a vicious fight from the back of her horse.
"Blake, what do you see?!" Summer called over her shoulder, analyzing the scene for any sign of Genevieve's whereabouts.
Following alongside on his own horse, Blake saw the carnage, after a moment the man shook his slowly in disbelief. "Could she do this, by herself?!" Blake exclaimed looking at his sister in bewilderment.
A long sigh escaped Summer's lips as she weighed her response. "She is amazing, I've never seen anyone like her, even Amanda would be surprised," Summer replied, looking at the devastation wrought by the girl they had once had tried to turn away from violence.
The duo galloped through the city undaunted by the massacre around them, the dead were out in force, no doubt brought on by warfare that had been raged at the hand of the young survivor.
A lone couple of walkers feasted on the remains of an animal, upon closer inspection, Summer concluded that it had been Genevieve's horse.
"Oh my… She's been through here, that was her horse," Summer said, taken back by the grisly scene.
Blake trotted up beside his sister as the two undead staggered back up slowly to their feet.
"Fuck, this is bad, she wouldn't try and keep going would she?" Blake exclaimed, stepping his horse away from the monsters as his horse whinnied in fear.
"I don't know, she's never done anything like this before," Summer admitted as the two trotted away from the walkers.
After a long day of riding the duo stopped up for the night, bringing the horses into an abandoned mall store that faced the street.
"She grew up," Blake said sadly, prodding the small fire he had got going.
The room they had picked was an old manager's small office, but the ceiling had rotted out and fallen in, giving the siblings ample ventilation.
Summer sat next to the fire inspecting the arrows she had picked up along the path to where she was. "Losing Amanda is where she grew up… I think," Summer muttered, keeping her voice low so nothing was alerted to their presence.
A sigh emanated from both people, as the thought of the innocent little girl they had known and loved, was now attempting to run a killing spree.
The horses suddenly began to get spooked, bucking and kicking and neighing, the sight of walkers had set their internal alarms off.
The horde of undead began pushing on the glass, trying to get into their next victims.
"SHIT!" Blake said as the glass started cracking, jumping to his feet to brace from the incoming dead.
[Baltimore, morning]
Blood ran down the survivor's forearm and dripped off her elbow, her muscles tightening on the hilt of her knife as she twisted it steadily into her victim's neck, carving out a taking hole as his strength seeped away, giving in to his wounds.
Genevieve felt her predatory senses heighten as the man fell limp in her arms, she had stalked him a few blocks back to his lair, this man had stolen food from her stash only an hour ago.
Luckily for her, he wasn't so adept at remaining undetected, now with the thief dead in her arms, Genevieve laid the corpse down and jabbed her knife into his temple, looking around the darkened room, she could see bedclothes and towels hanging up, acting as curtains, blotting out the light of the day.
Her eyes had adjusted to interior lighting, and her ears were sharp, picking up the slightest sound of movement, Genevieve remained perfectly still as she listened for more noises.
Again, the most minuscule of rustles reached her ears, releasing the breath she had been holding, Genevieve crept towards the doorless opening, leading further into the upper-level apartment.
In the next room, the survivor saw there was a bed and a crib in the far corner, an open door leading to a small balcony lit the room, a thin woman was sorting canned items, with her back turned to Genevieve, a burn was seared onto the back of the woman's neck, a symbol, and upon closer examination it the Saviours' symbol, the teenager watched quietly as a baby's cry could be heard from the crib.
The woman dropped her task and hurried to the crying child, popping the baby's pacifier in its mouth.
When the woman returned to her objective, Genevieve prowled silently around the room to the crib and picked up the infant, cradling it close; the woman had not noticed her, despite being in her peripheral vision.
The survivor leaned against the rusted iron barring, creating a small, high-pitched squeak as her weight laid upon it.
The noise startled the woman off her work, she darted her attention to the noise, and a look of confusion and worry consumed her features.
"Quiet!" Genevieve whispered, trying to appear calm, the baby in her arms nuzzled against her chest and continued to sleep.
"Who are you!? Where's Rob?!" The woman whispered with fear in her voice.
The teenager felt her heart pounding and the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she kept her composure.
"He's dead in the room behind you," Genevieve whispered in a dead-pan tone, the woman's eyes widened in horror and grief as she began hyperventilating. "If you scream, someone else is going to die," Genevieve said seriously as she shrugged her shoulders slowly, the baby squirmed softly in her arms before it settled in again.
The woman went pale at the prospect of her baby being killed or herself, Genevieve knew there was power in the vagueness of her threat. "W-what do you want from us? Why would you hurt Robbie?! He never would have hurt anyone!" The woman whispered between heaving breaths and tears.
"He stole from me, now I need you to listen," Genevieve whispered in a cold tone, no remorse, no fear.
"Why should I listen to you?!" The woman said, barely keeping her voice down.
"Because it would benefit both of us," The survivor droned, hearing walkers wander around just below her, Genevieve stole a glance, seeing many members of the undead.
"What could you possibly want?!" The woman hissed, recoiling as Genevieve moved the baby nonchalantly over to her other arm.
"I want to know everything about the Saviours, where do they keep their supplies?" Genevieve asked, standing up, taking her weight off the railing.
The woman shook her head in disbelief. "How the fuck should I know?!" She exclaimed to the teen.
"You were branded, even if you weren't one of them, they took you somewhere for that," Genevieve explained seriously.
"Robbie had been one of them but… he-" The woman said.
"Good riddance then, I did you a favor," Genevieve spat.
"H-he was trying to get me and the baby out of the city, away from the Saviours!" The woman said, holding back tears and anger.
Genevieve was surprised by this, averting her gaze, the teenager closed her eyes to regain her composite and to process this information. "What do you know?" Genevieve said, sounding unfazed.
Releasing a sigh of sadness, the woman looked to the young survivor. "They keep their base on Fort Carroll," the woman said simply, locking eyes with the girl.
Genevieve nodded slowly, trying to remember that place from the map she had taken from the settlement. "Good," The survivor declared, stepping forward and handing the child over. "Here," the teen said before the woman took her child.
With her child reclaimed the woman shrunk into a corner, holding her baby tight, she wouldn't lose her baby as well.
Genevieve took her rucksack off the counter and slung it over her shoulders hastily, with a downward glance, Genevieve's eyes fell on Rob's dead body.
The young survivor's face twisted in resentment, stepping closer to the body, Genevieve kicked Rob's side, turning him over on his back.
Before she continued on her mission, something on Rob caught her attention, a radio.
Stooping down, she picked up the device, looking over her shoulder as she did so, to make sure the woman wouldn't try and blindside her.
Stepping out into the hallway of the building, Genevieve clicked the radio on, the radio chimed to life before promptly beeping, Genevieve assumed this meant it was a low battery, so the teenager quickly turned it off once again.
She would find them, she would kill them, slowly, painfully, in any way she can find that they fear.