I thought I'd had it, that I was going to die. I was hoping that I would die quickly and be ripped to shreds instead of come back as a biter, but there wasn't really a choice in the matter. No, my only way out would be painful and terrifying. I couldn't imagine any worse way to die than to be eaten alive by, well, people, but it was the only option I had. I was exhausted, tired of running, tired of the guilt in my head and I wasn't sure if I was glad I was going to die or not which seemed crazy. I'd been secretly wishing that the others would come back for me, but when I saw them drive past all hope was gone and now I was left with this. I turned to see the biters I'd shoved off of me getting closer and closer, and there was no way I could outrun them this time.
The biter was an ugly, drooling, oozing mess that looked like it had climbed out of it's own grave. It was grabbing and lashing out at me, hoping to get some of my flesh to feast on. I had no weapons except my own fists, and I wasn't exactly going to punch one of them to death. I'd already wrestled two and I felt disgusting after touching them. "Just take it," I said. "It's your only way out." I clamped my eyes shut and felt fingers grip onto my skin, and then suddenly felt something whizz past my ear.
"Move! Move!" a man with an accent yelled at me. I opened my eyes and saw two biters on the floor. I rushed away from the commotion and looked at my saviour - a man who was holding a crossbow and ironically wearing a jacket with angel wings on the back. His hair was scraggly, his arms covered in blood and his face covered in sweat.
"Th-thankyou," I breathed, not really understanding what had just happened. "Who are you?" He didn't respond and just looked at the ground, as if he regretted saving me.
"At least let me thank you properly, with your name?" I asked, not knowing what was wrong with the guy. I watched as he pulled an arrow out of one of the biters and used it to stab another one in the head.
"Daryl!" someone called from further away. "Where are you brother?"
"I'm here Merle," he yelled back. "Looks like I've found someone."
Another man, who looked older and quite worn, appeared, with a disgusted look on his face.
"D'you save her?" Merle asked.
"Well yeah," Daryl murmered. "There were a few of 'em, thought I should take them out. Didn't even know she was in there." He angrily ripped the rest of his arrows out of the walkers and stuck them in his mouth, sucking off the blood and spitting it onto the floor. I cringed.
"Well at least we didn't lose any bullets, little brother." Merle sighed. He looked at me like I was a piece of meat, and he looked at Daryl pretty much the same. Daryl nodded at his brother and started standing awkwardly.
"Thanks I guess then," I said. "How are you guys doing?" Merle snorted, almost as if he was laughing.
"Look missy, times aren't exactly right now, threats are everywhere. So although y'all might be happy to stand around small-talkin', we 'aint, are we Daryl?" Merle said, looking at his brother. Daryl nodded, still looking at the ground. "Let's go." he continued. They both looked at me as they walked away, and Merle began lecturing Daryl, fully aware I could still hear. "Why'd you save her? What's she ever do for us? She ever cook us a meal? Na, don't waste your shit Daryl! It's me and you little brother, we don't need no-one else!"
I sighed, and began walking away thinking really, what the fuck just happened?