Based on "Road To Survival" Mobile game from Scopely. Please enjoy, I'm sorry for all the typo and spelling errors.
The Walking Dead.
Road To Survival.
One-shot.
"A day like any other"
.
.
.
"Seems like it's going to rain today..."
Muttered the black-haired man as he walked down, fixing his hat ensuring that everything was ok. The backpack on his back carrying around two clips of ammo and enough food for a week. His pistol, with at least eight bullets ready to be shot hidden inside his coat. Looking around, he tried to find any signs of walkers nearby, crouching himself as he saw one of them constantly hitting the wall.
WHAM WHAM WHAM
"Huuuhhhh~"
Apparently, it hadn't noticed him.
He had long since forgotten his own name. Not because he didn't wanted to; but because it was natural. In his eyes, names didn't mattered anymore when you could day any moment killed either by someone of your own kind, or one of those empty husks devouring you just because you were stupid enough to leave yourself in the open, basically a silver plate.
He was just a Wanderer.
Walking towards him as silently as he could, his left hand went straight to the cable he always had on his back, and in just one quick movement, put it right around the bald one's neck. The former human moaned, but the tactic took him way too much by surprise: before he could react to reach and bite the human, he was already hitting the floor.
And just as quick as he did so, the survivor stabbed him right into his forehead with his dagger.
"U-uhhh~"
The last bits of life escaped his mouth with a moan, the hand that almost reached his face fell next to his body and Wanderer simply closed his eyes. There was no emotion, just like those empty white eyes. But there was a fundamental difference between him and these creatures: he was alive. He breathed, he needed food, and he had to keep surviving.
"Good riddance, pal."
Were his parting words, cleaning the metal of the dagger in the clothes of his victim, storing the cable on his back once again. His eyes went up; between the dark and cloudy atmosphere, he could still manage to read the words "Homemart"; an empty former market. Luckily without any of those inside of it, but things were never easy. At most he would be able to find something to eat.
A sigh of disappointment came out of his mouth, as he moved his red bandana up his nose a little more.
Guess it's time to check inside...
As much as he didn't wanted to, he just had to. Before going for the entrances, he had hoped to find anything on the outside: in the trashcans, or even the abandoned cars. But it had been around three years since everything happened, of course his efforts would be in vain. Opening his backpack, he searched for the lantern, it would be better if it was sunny.
Nothing good could ever come out of exploring a dark place, especially one that smelled like death.
.
.
Strsh~... strsh... strsh~
The glass on the floor broke with each step he took. Wanderer frowned the moment the light showed him the reason of the horrible stench that almost wanted to make him puke: women, children, men... all dead in the floor, executed with a clean shot to the head. Sure, thanks to the fabric of his bandana it was somewhat tolerable, but the sight wasn't pleasant by any means.
What the hell happened here?
It wasn't a fight. Even if the glasses of the windows and the doors were broken, there weren't any corpses or sings of blood on them, so whoever killed these people, it did so from the inside: most likely, after entering.
And by the bullets on the floor, most likely it was a pistol.
Sick bastards...
But this was the exact reason of why he wanted to be alone. Back when everything started, he recalled being with a group of people. Was it from Virginia? Tenesse? Silver Springs? or Washington DC?, he had been all over the entire country and he still did so, always trying to never set a foot again in the same place, but it was inevitable. His legs slowly took him to the nearest shelf.
Nothing but open cases and long dry cans.
Tap... tap... tap...
Walking to the front, he also made sure to keep his senses as sharp as always, because he learned that trust could be lethal. The fact that his own footsteps made such an echo in the entire place didn't improved his mood at all. Despite how many times he had done it, exploring a building never was easy. Specially places like these, that used to be filled with people and families.
It was as if their souls were trying to scare him.
CLANK~
"GKH!"
The sound of something hitting the ground made him turn back, and point the light and dagger towards whatever moved. The scared shriek of a rat running in fear received him, before being lost into darkness. Moving his head from left to right, he felt relieved. Better be bothered by a stupid animal than a human wanting to put a bullet in his face, or another one of those things.
"Heh... I guess everyone needs food..."
There was only one place left to check before going to the second floor. The Counter.
Turning towards it, he found the empty cashier; seeing it's contents completely absent made him laugh, because of how ironic it was: not even the end of the world was able to stop the thieves. Who knows? Maybe there were some communities out there that still wanted money for some stupid reason, trying to rebuild society with it's old systems and beliefs.
"Hm?"
Something ended up grabbing his attention. Right under the rug he was stepping on, it felt... lighter. His left eyebrow raised as he retreated, letting the flashlight right next to his left feet; his hands uncovered the truth. A small trapdoor, closed with a padlock that he just so happened didn't step on when he got behind the table. Grabbing his knife, in one quick stab...
CRSH~
He destroyed it.
And the glorious sight of around ten cans of beans, fruit, rice and some bottles of water greeted him.
Must've been from the survivors who lived in here...
Whoever that shot them wasn't a thief if they didn't bothered to check up such place, so it was a vengeance. Opening his backpack, The Wanderer stored up his newly found supplies, looking at the water with such love and intensity almost as if it was his child.
Nodding, he put it on one of the multiple inner pockets of his parka, deciding to drink it up later. Getting up, he looked at his left: the stairs for the second floor. Would it be profitable to go? or risky? certainly he was alone after the constant breaking of the glass back when he entered but... was it really worth it?...
No.
Because after all, it was curiosity what willed the cat; and he already had what he came looking for.
Walking back to the entrance, he grabbed the tip of his hat, moving it down gently as one last gesture of respect for the people dead in the floor. Maybe in another life he would've burried them, but he wasn't the kind of person to waste energy, time and resources on something as redundant as digging multiple graves for people he didn't even knew.
He wasn't person anymore.
He was just a Wanderer... and this was just a day like any other, in a world filled with Walking undead.
End.
