I turned my music off somewhere between College Park and Union City. There were a few signs when we turned onto the motorway reading 85, which was the direction Rick suggested the night before. I decided to get my book out, a last-ditch effort to waste some time.

Shane, who still had me trapped in the booth, was now cleaning a gun on the table next to me. I glanced over occasionally to see what he was doing, but I tried to ignore it as best I could by reading.

Andrea was much more interested than I was. Her head fell into her hand as she stared at the weapon in fascination. It's like she's never seen a gun before.

"Looks complicated."

"The trick is getting all the pieces back together the same way," Shane stated.

No shit.

I scoffed, playing it off as if something had happened in the book. No way do all the pieces have to go back together the same way. I could have said the same thing about a car, but I didn't think I'd have to point out something so obvious.

Shane glanced at me but then down at the gun, seemingly ignoring my obvious disappointment with his so-called advice. He turned his head back to look at Andrea and said, "I could clean yours, show you how?"

Andrea nodded, pulling her bag into her lap and rummaging around until she pulled out a silver handgun . . . I don't know. I'm a mechanic, not a gunsmith. She handed the gun to Shane, who twisted it around in his hands and flipped it over, admiring it.

"Oh yeah," he aimed the gun down towards the back of the RV, testing the sight. "It's a sweet piece."

"It was a gift from my father," she told him, her face growing sorrowful as she looked at the gun. "He gave it to me just before Amy, and I took off on our road trip. He said 'two girls on their own should be able to defend themselves'."

"Smart man, your father."

I couldn't help but feel bad for Andrea; she was alone now, away from her family. Not only that but with what happened to Amy, she must be devastated, bringing up the memory of starting the road trip. Amy once told me they came all the way from Florida and only made it to Atlanta when the dead started walking.

Shane's gaze returned to the gun. "It's a . . . it's a limiting capacity, see? Only holds seven rounds—still, it's something. If you wanna learn to clean it, use it properly, I'll teach you."

"Okay," Andrea nodded her head in agreement.

I was shocked when Shane then turned to me. "What about you, Ace? You wanna learn about guns? I can teach you to shoot if you'd like when we get settled somewhere."

"Not really."

Yes, I enjoyed learning different things; Shane probably picked up on that when he showed me how to modify the radio. But, I didn't understand the fascination with shooting. It seemed like everyone in America either wanted to shoot or knew how.

I wondered whether learning would be a good idea, but I thought against it. It was too loud to practise anymore, for a start, and I was never really in a situation where I needed to be the one aiming a gun.

"You sure?" He raised an eyebrow. "Might be useful."

I was going to give him the same answer, but Dale interrupted me. "Aw, jeez."

We both turned to the front of the caravan, twisting around in the booth to see out the window. When Shane stood up, I took the opportunity to free myself from the booth. I stood next to Glenn, who was sitting in the passenger chair, and I was finally able to see the problem.

The road ahead was filled with cars, abandoned. Directly in front of us was a flipped lorry, which blocked the view of the road ahead. My eyebrows creased as I stood on my toes, but it was hard to see how far the empty vehicles carried on. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked to see Shane standing behind me, his eyes fixated on the road.

The motorhome slowed to a stop. I watched as Daryl came round before us and manoeuvred through the messy amalgamation of deserted metal. He emerged a few seconds later, stopping just outside the RV.

Dale leaned out the window. "Can we get through here?"

Daryl nodded in return and started up the bike. He drove around the back of the caravan, turning around to lead the rest of the vehicles through the wreckage that had piled up down the motorway.

"Maybe we should go back," I noticed that Glenn was holding a map when he spoke. "There's an interstate bypass—"

"—We can't spare the fuel," Dale interrupted.

Seeing the sheer amount of vehicles that had been left here was overwhelming, and I was unsure of how it became so hectic. Dad and I never made it to any of the highways when we were heading for Atlanta. The car ran out of petrol, and we searched for some help in the houses. When we were sure the town was abandoned, he tried making new plans to get us to the safe zone, and he was mainly looking for another vehicle to get us there. I didn't realise they were all here.

I jumped violently when the RV screeched, sucking in a gasp. Shane squeezed my shoulder as I gripped the back of Glenn's chair. White vapour rose in front of the window, and I could only think of one thing. The hose blew.

Dale cursed, standing up and squeezing past the group of people to leave the motorhome. The door slammed against the side of the caravan when it swung open, and Dale stepped outside, "I said it! Didn't I say it? A thousand times! Dead in water!"

I followed them outside.

"Problem, Dale?" Shane questioned, coming around to the front of the vehicle. He was holding his shotgun, which I didn't notice him grab before leaving the RV.

"Oh, just the small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of—" he trailed off, looking around at all the abandoned cars we were swimming in. "Okay . . . that was dumb."

Shane looked down the motorway. "If we can't find a radiator hose here."

Daryl, who had previously been pacing, was now standing at the boot of a car. He rummaged through the items, sticking his arm through the broken rear view window. "There's a whole buncha stuff we can find."

"Can siphon some more fuel from these cars for a start," T-Dog added.

"Maybe find some water," Carol suggested.

"Food?"

"This is a graveyard," Lori shook her head, glancing around at the vehicles. "I don't know how I feel about this."

Everyone went quiet, considering what she said for a second. I knew it would be upsetting to see bodies around and take their things, but we were here, and needed the supplies. We didn't really have many other options.

Shane looked back at the group. "C'mon, y'all. Look around, gather what you can."

I watched Dale pat Glenn's shoulder to get his attention. "Glenn, you mind getting the tools for me."

He nodded and entered the caravan. I followed him inside, going to grab my yellow bag in case I found anything useful in some of the cars. I left my book on the table, it would only add extra weight, and I wasn't going to read it when raiding the vehicles.

Glenn walked past me and back out to Dale with the toolbox he was asked to get. I swung my bags over my shoulders, this time following him outside. As I passed them outside, Glenn held out two screwdrivers to Dale.

"Hey, which one?"

I stopped only to answer his question, "Flathead."

I caught up with Lori, standing next to a car with Andrea. Carl and Sophia weren't there, but I assumed they were further ahead because I could barely see Carol in the distance.

Lori leaned against the window, blocking the sun with her hands. "You see that?"

Andrea copied her actions. "It's a first aid kit; there could be something useful there."

Lori tried pulling on the handle, but the door wouldn't open. She leaned closer to the vehicle again to take another look. I was the one who saw T-Dog approaching before the other women noticed, and he smiled when he saw me.

"Hey," T-Dog glanced at Lori and Andrea, who was still looking into the car for another way inside. "You guys need any help?"

Lori took a step back and nodded, "There's a first aid kit in there, but we can't get it open. Could you try?"

T-Dog's face became dead serious as he looked at her. "What? I'm the black guy; you think I know how to break into cars?"

Lori's hand flew to cover her mouth. "No-no, I didn't think—"

He laughed out loud, leaning over and tapping his knee. "I'm messing with you! Sure, I'll try."

Andrea snickered at his joke, shaking her head as she moved away from the car.

I watched T-Dog slam his elbow against the window, audibly letting out a grunt when the glass didn't break. T-Dog repeated the action, groaning as his elbow hit the glass. He paused for a few seconds, looking through the window.

When he went to try again, I spoke up, "Yeah, I'm sure it will work. Third time's a charm."

"Ace," Lori warned.

It took a lot of effort to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "The side windows of cars are made from tempered glass. They are literally made to withstand blunt, hard objects, aka, what you're doing right now."

"That isn't helpful," Lori scolded. "Why don't you let us work this out?"

My jaw clenched. I could only stare at her for a second, wondering whether or not she was being serious. There were so many ways they could open the window now, especially with the information I had given them. Andrea had her gun in the RV. The butt of the gun would easily smash the window, let alone all the tools Dale was currently using to fix the radiator hose.

"You're not listening to me."

I glanced around, turning to the car behind me. I opened the door, sat in the driver's seat, and pulled the lever that opened the bonnet. It took seconds to find what I was looking for, and I yanked the part from the engine.

"What's that?" T-Dog asked.

"Spark plug," I dropped it on the ground beside me and stamped on it to break the shell. After scouring the ground for a few seconds, I grabbed the small item that almost blended into the cracks in the road. "The porcelain in a spark plug cuts through glass."

"Ace," Lori warned again.

They all stood in front of the car, watching me. Andrea was staring at me, her arms crossed, looking just as annoyed as Lori sounded. On the other hand, T-Dog was more open and curious about what I had planned.

I held the porcelain in my hands for a few seconds. "You might want to step back."

T-Dog was the only one that listened, taking a few steps away from the car. The women just looked at me like I was stupid. I gave them a few seconds to listen to me and move out of the way, but when they didn't, I just shrugged.

I threw the porcelain at the window, which smashed into a thousand pieces, all landing inside the car. T-Dog looked between me and the window in amazement, and Andrea's mouth fell open. Lori was speechless as she looked back at me, but I just bowed down.

I always wanted to do that.

As I went to leave, I stopped next to Lori. "There's glass in your hair."

I made sure to leave before she could say anything, only looking back to brush her fingers through her hair to get rid of the glass. I couldn't help the grin that appeared on my face as their expressions replayed in my head.

I continued walking through the cars, letting out a long breath. I always hated being bratty like that, but how Lori dismissed me was frustrating. If she had actually listened to my advice rather than shoving me aside, I wouldn't have had to break the window myself, as cool as it was.

"What was that about?" I jumped at the new voice.

Daryl was standing behind a car, the boot opened and a suitcase on the ground next to him. I didn't even realise he was there until he spoke up. He was staring at me expectantly, glancing back to where I assumed he heard the smash.

I turned to him, gripping the strap of my bag. "I broke a window.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, they wanted the first aid kit in the car." I clarified. "Black guy didn't cut it."

T-Dog was passing me as I said that. He stopped giving a pouty expression holding the first aid kit in his hands, "I resent that; I did my best."

"Oh yeah?" My head tilted to the side. "How's your elbow?"

He shook his head, laughed, and continued with the first aid kit.

Daryl looked over at where Lori and Andrea were, letting out a small scoff before turning back to whatever suitcase he was looking through. I waited for him to say something else, but when he realised I was still waiting around, he just frowned at me.

"Here, got somethin' for ya to do," he leaned down next to him, grabbing a red fuel canister and a rubber tubing. "Make yourself useful and siphon the gas from this."

I had no interest in doing that, "well, I don't know—"

"I know ya know how," he interrupted.

Oh. . . yeah.

I glared at him but grabbed the tube and canister and walked around the car to fund the fuel cap. I slowly fed the tubing inside the opening until it reached the bottom of the tank. I grabbed one end, placed the tube in my mouth and started sucking the petrol from the car.

Even though I could see the liquid rising up the tube, I knew it had to leave for the siphon to work. So when the horrible taste entered my mouth, it still shocked me. I coughed up some of the petrol, managing to lower the end of the tube into the canister so I didn't waste any of it.

"Y'know," Daryl started, coming around the car to see me kneeling on the ground, "if you just told 'em you're a mechanic, they might actually listen to ya."

"Maybe," I shrugged, "but they already have Dale."

"Dale ain't no mechanic," Daryl scoffed.

"It still counts," I glanced back over my shoulder. Daryl had broken into another car, lifting the boot open and rummaging through the bags. "The only thing that ever goes wrong is the RV, which seems like Dale's expertise."

There were a few reasons I hadn't told anyone about my previous employment. The only thing that had gone wrong was the motorhome, and as easy as a radiator hose was to replace, that was just it. It needed replacing, not fixing.

Also, I knew that the second I out myself as a mechanic, it would be the only job I had in the group. I had more to offer. I just needed them to see that themselves. I needed the right opportunity to prove what I could do because apparently, breaking into cars isn't enough.

"And I want people to choose to listen to me, not just as a last resort."

Daryl glanced back, squinting at me; the concept seemed so foreign to him. Instead of saying anything else, he turned back to the car and continued rummaging through its contents.

It took a few more minutes for the liquid to stop running through the pipe. When the last of the petrol ran out, I stood up, grabbing the canister and placing them down at Daryl's feet.

"There, I did it."

"Still plenty more cars," he waved his hand around, gesturing to all the vehicles in the nearby vicinity.

Instead of listening to him, I walked back towards the caravan and away from him. I grinned at him, walking backwards and cupping my hands behind my ears, partly yelling as I called back, "What's that? I'm sorry, I can't hear you!"

I spun around, grinning and squeezing the straps of my bag. I could practically feel the signature glare burning into me as I walked back towards the RV, but I just ignored it. As much as I wanted to help the group, siphoning petrol was one of the worst activities. It was kind of funny winding Daryl up, so that was a plus, I guess, which kind of made the one car worth it.

As I passed a group of cars, I saw Carl and Sophia climbing down from one of the vehicles. I couldn't see Lori or Carol around, so they must've snuck away when no one was looking.

Carl smiled when he saw me.

"Hey!" I greeted them with a smile. "Find anything cool?"

"Just a crayon, but there was only one there," Carl reached in his pocket, pulling out the crayon. "It's yellow. Do you want it?"

I took the crayon from his hand. "Sure. I can colour . . . I don't know . . . lots of flowers?"

"Not flowers!" Sophia cried, a smile on her face.

"Hey!"

Sophia laughed at my reaction.

I nodded in a gesture, and they followed me back to the rest of the group. I shoved the yellow crayon in the back pocket of my denim shorts, walking at Carl's side back to the RV.

"I wish you could ride with us," Carl said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"I know," I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. "But I'm only going to be in the caravan."

He looked up at me. "Why do you call it that? It's an RV?"

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "We call it a caravan in Britain. Or motorhome."

"Motorhome," Carl laughed as he tried mimicking my accent.

"Yes, I know," I nodded. "I'm hilarious."

We were stopped on our walk back by Rick, who ran out from behind some of the cars. He was crouched below the eye line of the vehicles, a panicked expression covering his face. I looked around but couldn't see any immediate danger, which confused me.

"Carl, Sophia! Get down, now!" Rick barked out in a whisper. "Ace! Under the cars!"

Glancing around, I pursed my lips. I still couldn't see what Rick was so scared of, but Carl grabbed my arm, yanking it downwards, so I was kneeling on the ground beside him. I took the hint, laying down and rolling under the nearest car. Carl crawled beside me.

Sophia was lying down under a car to my left. I could see from the corner of my eye that Rick had rolled under one further to my right. Still, I hadn't seen what was happening to make everyone so scared.

But a moment later, I heard the sounds. The mumbling hum grew closer and closer, and I saw the feet before I realised from a group of walkers. The smell was the worst of it. I had to hold my hand over my nose to stop myself from being sick.

Part of me wondered why no one had tried killing the walkers until I saw the sheer number of them that staggered by. Shooting would be futile; I realised that now. The only option was to hide and hope that none of them noticed us or fell over.

As they passed, I realised how close the walkers actually were. I was never claustrophobic, but seeing that there was no possible escape gave me a horrible feeling in my chest. I scooted to the side, only to feel Carl's side right against mine. I glanced at his side of the car, which was just as bad as mine.

Rick's eyes met mine as I glanced over at Carl. He raised his hand, waving it down a little to tell me to keep quiet.

I hadn't realised I was crying until a tear rolled down my cheek. My breathing picked up, the pace getting quicker and quicker. I clenched my hands into a fist, chewing the inside of my lip.

There's no way we get out of this.

Hundreds upon hundreds of walkers limped past, each seemingly moving slower than the last. I looked forward, hoping to see the end of the line, but it never came. There were more.

So many more.

Carl glanced over at me. He looked less worried, less scared than I was feeling. His hand trailed across the floor to grip mine, but not for his sake. I felt my rapid breathing slow down at the touch, which I knew I'd have to thank him for.

After what seemed like an eternity, the number of the walkers started to fall. The group grew thinner. When it finally ended, we all waited for a few minutes.

I wasn't moving until an adult did, someone with a weapon that would be able to kill any stragglers.

Sophia poked her head out from under the car, and that was when I heard her scream. I spotted two more feet of a walker kneeling down to try to grab her.

"Sophia," Carl whispered.

She screamed, crawling back under the car. I pressed my face to the ground, looking at the walkers. I only noticed a second one, walking around the side she was climbing over to.

Without a second thought, I shuffled out from under the car. "Stay here."

Without thinking, I stood up and ran to the side of the road where the railings were. I grabbed Sophia's arms, pulling her out from under the car and away from the second walker. She held onto me, and I stepped back as the walker under the car tried to grab at my feet.

"Come on," I pulled her along and lifted her over the railing.

She waited for me to vault over, and we slid down the dirt bank. I looked over my shoulder and felt my eyes widen as one of the walkers rolled down the bank after us. They were relentless.

"Come on!" I tugged at her arm. "Run!"

I dragged her behind me, taking off into the woods. I heard the walkers growling, growing fainter as we ran. I didn't know where I was taking Sophia, but I knew we had to put as much distance between the walkers as possible. Nothing stopped them. That was clear to me now. Hopefully, someone else noticed where we were and could help us.

We ran for a minute or two; I had to keep pulling Sophia along faster and faster. I didn't know where the walkers were, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I already felt tired, and I knew Sophia would be feeling the same way, but I'd carry her if I had to. I wouldn't let the walkers get us.

Sophia fell over behind me, and I kneeled down to pick her up, but a figure grabbed my arm when I turned around. I couldn't help but let out a scream before I realised the person was Rick and not a walker.

Rick pulled Sophia to her feet, kneeling down next to us. She cried and latched onto him, burying her face in his neck as she wailed and sobbed.

"Shh, shh," he hugged her and turned to me. "Are you alright? Are you okay?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I'm—I'm good."

"Shoot them!" Sophia cried. She tried reaching for his gun in his holster, but Rick turned his body away before she could grab it. He held her back a little no matter how much she fought against him.

"No, no," Rick shook his head. "Those walkers on the road will hear it. Then it wouldn't just be two; it'd be hundreds!"

I gasped when I heard a sound behind where Rick was standing. My eyes widened, and I tried looking for the source of the noise, but it was no use. I couldn't see anything through the dense trees.

Rick gripped my arm again, giving it a tug. "Alright, come on."

He picked Sophia up, stood up himself and gestured his head for me to follow him as he ran off. I pushed myself up, almost tripping over my own feet as I sprinted after them. He was always a metre ahead, glancing back occasionally to make sure I was still right behind him.

Rick stopped when we neared what looked like a pond, and he placed Sophia down, telling her to wait at the top before jumping down himself. He reached his arms out to her and pulled her down, dropping her in the mud and the water. He then reached a hand up to me, and I stepped down a little more carefully, but my foot slipped in the wet mud of the bank. Rick caught my arms before I fell over, and my feet sank into the muddy pond.

He grabbed Sophia's hand, looking around before pulling us over to a small opening in the bank. It was a bit of a hidden area covered by trees and foliage, but there wasn't a lot of room for all of us to hide.

Rick answered my worries. "You two stay there. You have to do exactly as I say. Hide there. Squeeze in tight."

Sophia crawled into the opening, and I followed in after her. It was clearly visible in the space in the foliage, but there was nothing we could do to fix it. I could only stay as quiet as possible and hope that no other walker passing by would see me.

"I'll draw them away from you," Rick said.

"No, no, don't leave!" Sophia begged, trying to climb back out. I held her still with my arm, using my other to push myself as far into the opening as I could stay.

Rick grabbed her arm, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "Listen, listen. They don't get winded; I do. I can only deal with them one at a time. I wouldn't be able to protect you."

I swallowed thickly, just trying to take in all the words he was saying. I remembered what Rick told me in the RV and felt relieved that he was keeping his promise by watching out for me, but this wasn't about me. We had to do what we could to keep Sophia safe. Even without weapons, I had a chance of escaping any walkers, but Sophia would get tired easier than me.

"This is how we all survive," he turned to me. "You understand?"

I gave a quick nod.

"Okay," he let out a low, shaky breath. "If I don't make it back, run back to the highway, back to the others straight the way we came. Keep the sun on your left shoulder."

If I don't make it back. The realisation hit like a punch to the gut that there was a chance Rick wouldn't come back for us. We'd be alone, and I would have to get Sophia back to the highway myself. The new and sickening feeling dropped a massive weight of responsibility on my shoulders.

I heard the crunching of leaves as the walkers neared us. Rick's head tilted backwards, his gaze moving above the bank. He stepped back in the mud, glaring at what I could only assume to be the walkers.

"Come on," he muttered in a low voice before shouting his subsequent insults, his way of getting the walker's attention so they would follow him away. "You ugly son-of-a-bitch. Come on! Come on!"

Rick ran backwards, and I almost screamed as the walker landed in the water in front of me. My hand clamped over my mouth as I watched Rick run back, tripping over at the pond's edge. The walker wasn't close enough to get him before he pushed himself to his feet and ran away.

We stayed in silence for almost ten minutes. The muddy water had long seeped into my shoes, and I knew they wouldn't be the red colour they once were. I shifted awkwardly, so my back was pressed against the dirt bank, my shoes sinking further into the mud as my body weight moved.

"How long do we stay here?" Sophia whispered to me.

"I don't know," I bit the inside of my lip as I tried to remember what he said. "He said he'd be back. We just wait for him."

"What if he doesn't come back?" She questioned.

I thought for a second, remembering that Rick said to go straight back to the highway if he didn't return. Again the awful feeling returned to my stomach that Rick may never return.

I felt my head shake automatically, "He'll be back. He will."

There was a snap in the woods, and I squeezed my mouth closed. Sophia's grip on my arm tightened, which meant she also heard the sound. My teeth clenched together, and I peered around the part of the forest that I could see.

Fuck. . . walker. . . Shit.

It limped closer and closer, twitching and jerking at each sound the forest presented. The closer it got, the more I could see it. It was a large man, much bigger than Sophia or me. The bite mark was on his arm, the blood completely consuming his hand.

There was no way that it wasn't going to see me. My white shirt stood out entirely from the hiding spot, and I was mainly in the open. Sophia was much more hidden than I was. He . . . it would never see her, not if I wasn't here.

She gripped my arm tighter, burying her head in my shoulder and whimpering a little. I pressed far back against the wall, a string of curses going through my head as I thought of a plan.

A sudden wash of stupidity—I mean bravery came over me. "I'll try and lure it away. Do you remember how to get back to the motorway?"

"Motorway?" A scared look came over her face.

Don't confuse her! My brain was screaming. Not now!

"Highway! I mean highway!" I repeated urgently. "Do you remember where the highway is? Rick said to keep going this way and keep the sun on your left shoulder. Which one is your left?"

She didn't answer me, shaking her head. "Don't go! Don't go!"

"Please, Sophia!" I begged.

Her crying only made this more complicated because I had to leave. If I stayed, I would be putting both of us in danger, and I had no way of killing a walker. If I went, she would be safe, and only one of us would be in trouble. Me.

But I was putting myself in the same situation as Rick, I may not come back, and I knew how terrifying that must be for her. She was old enough to understand that I had to leave and old enough to know that we may never see each other again.

"Which one is your left?"

Still crying, she held up her left hand to me.

I nodded, my eyes trailing to the ground as I released a breath I didn't know I was holding in. "Okay. Wait for Rick, unless a walker sees you, okay? Then run back to the highway."

When the walker saw me, it let out a loud snarl—that's when I knew I had been spotted. I pushed myself out from the hiding spot, running out from the pond and in some random direction into the woods.

I looked back over my shoulder quickly to see if it was following me and not going Sophia, and it was. My plan was working. I ran deeper and deeper into the woods, immediately becoming lost. If I didn't know that the pond was directly behind me.

I am never going to get back to the motorway.

Looking back over my shoulder, I saw the walker still coming after me. I was already panting as the pond left my view; the only thing I could see was more and more trees. That and the walker.

I could only really run about five minutes before my pace slowed down. I kept my feet pushing, but my speed was rapidly decreasing. My lungs were burning, and my legs ached. I just wanted to keel over, but the walker behind me kept me going and going. It was the best motivation for exercising ever.

The sound of the man neared the more I slowed, and when I saw how close it was over my shoulder, I forced myself to sprint again. I hated it, but if I kept going as slow as I was, I would have been grabbed in a heartbeat.

"Keep going," I muttered between gasps. "Keep going."

You can't run forever. It's going to get you.

Thank you, brain. That's what I needed.

I didn't know how I would lose the walker. I couldn't kill it; I didn't have a weapon. Besides, I never killed one before, so I would probably still end up getting bitten. I had no faith in my ability to solo the walker.

"There has to be something here!" I yelled to myself. "I know it's a forest, but come on!"

When there was enough distance between myself and the walker, I slowed to a stop. I looked back over my shoulder. I could still see it, but I had a minute or two before I had to start running again. It reached out as it chased me, but its attempts were futile at this distance.

I couldn't keep running forever, and as much as I hated my brain telling me that I would die, it was right. If I didn't find anything to kill the walker with, I would die. I desperately looked around, trying to see anything I could use, when finally. . .

A house.

It was a secluded building, with only a dirt path leading to it. The dirt path must have come from some other road, but I didn't know where it went. How far did I run? It didn't matter; there had to be something I could use against the walker, a weapon or something.

I looked back at the walker one last time before sprinting to the house. The front door was unlocked, and I barged straight inside. I immediately began looking for something to use against the walker. Running into the kitchen, I yanked out all the drawers before realising they were completely empty. No cutlery, no knives.

I looked around the room and saw that the only thing here was the cupboards. I ran into the next room, which was as empty as the drawers. No furniture, no nothing. The house was completely empty. The only thing inside was white tarps that hung from the walls.

The house must have been in the middle of being renovated when the dead started to rise, meaning I couldn't use anything against the walker. I couldn't run either; I was too tired, maybe I could get a few miles if I had to, but I would never find the group again.

A creaking sound echoed through the empty walls as the walker entered the house. It growled at me, following me as I backed into a room. It growled and growled, swinging its arms around to grab me.

My eyes widened, and I grabbed one of the tarps from next to me, pulling it across and blocking the walker's grasp. The tarp ripped from the wall and tangled the walker, making it fall over. It shook violently to get free, but it couldn't.

I stepped back, watching it for a second. It was completely trapped, but it wouldn't stay like that. No chance. I didn't waste the opportunity and sprinted back out the front door and retraced my steps back into the woods.

The woods all looked the same to me. I could barely remember the way I ran to get away from the walker, and with the stress of it all, I'm not surprised. There were no unique landmarks between the pond and the house, and it was basically just a guessing game with the direction I had run.

It had taken me almost an hour of walking before I found the pond where Sophia and I were hiding. I stepped into the water again, my dry shoes once again becoming soaked and muddy. There would be no way to clean my shoes, so I guess I had to get used to wearing brown instead of red.

Walking through the pond, my feet started sinking further and further into the bed of the pond, but I would not be deterred from finding her. Not when I had done so much to keep her safe.

"Sophia?" I whispered.

There was no answer. I leaned my head inside and quickly realised that she was gone. My lips pursed together, and I looked around the nearby area. The worry immediately froze that she had also been seen by a walker and had to leave. But my brain, which had been doing nothing but intrusively telling me how I would die, finally came to my rescue.

Rick must have her.

I felt slightly relieved that I had another option to fall back on and decided to head back to the motorway. I awkwardly climbed up the bank, glancing down at my left shoulder to angle myself with the sun before walking off.

Rick said he was coming back. He must have found her and taken her back to the motorway to take her back to Carol and keep her safe. That was the best option because right now, to the group, I'm a goner.

I promise I am writing these chapters, but balancing the work of editing present ones and writing new ones is a big task. I will have more time over the holidays but whether I use it wisely is another story, so you'll all have to wait and see.

Take a look at WheresMyPenn and Brodunski's books because they are all amazing to read.

Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed.