Author's Note:

This is a story I really wanted to bring to life after having a conversation with a Hobie Brown . This is my first work on this site and I've come to love it dearly. I wanted to share it, hopefully some other people may find joy in it as I have writing it.

This is a work in progress; I'm an amateur writer and this is a work of passion. It will have grammar and spelling errors, but I am trying my best to get better at this pastime of creation that used to bring me so much joy.

Please enjoy (｡•́ u •̀｡)

Chapter 1

The sound of shotgun blasts can be heard as a young man runs down a sleeted hill. His hurried movements, as well as the undead horde tailing behind him, rallied the forest animals to scatter. He seemed to be handling himself well enough; his lanky body weaved past potential dangers left and right. However, his feet began to buckle as he descended the slippery slope. An undead hell spawn catches him off guard and lurches at him, clasping its bloody hands around the barrel of his shotgun and toppling them both down the hill. He tries to shield his face with his gun as they slide down, resisting the creature as it desperately bites down towards his face. They fall beside a tree, stopping them from sliding further down the slick hill. It inches closer and closer as he relentlessly pushes it back. He couldn't do this on his own for much longer; his arms succumbing to the weight of his shotgun and the full force of the corpse straddling his body.

BANG, before his eyes, the head of the zombie explodes as his ears ring. Its lifeless body collapses onto his chest and pins him to the chilled grass. He couldn't discern who had come to his aid as the corpse's blood painted his face and bits of its brain splattered around him. He quickly rolls the headless corpse off of him with a thud. His entire outfit was soiled now, but he couldn't be bothered by trivial details right now. Springing back onto his feet, he picks up his shotgun and begins to make his way down the hill again, wiping his face with his coat sleeve. His eyes lock onto someone crouching behind a tree log as he runs past. Could that have been the person who came to his rescue? Latching an arm onto a tree trunk, he pivots behind it and couches down to take cover. He peeks his head around and tries to get another look at the person, but sees no one where the silhouette was. But as he searched, he spotted something sticking out of a bush top. It was white and carefully emerged from the brush. He watches as a head pops out and aims a pistol, vanquishing the approaching demons who were none the wiser. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned them over from his distance; to his surprise, it was a woman. She was small but fierce, brandishing a bronze pistol with what looked like embroidery along its length. The woman had a caramel complexion and white poofy hair that was pulled into two buns at the back of her head. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, having believed that he was the only survivor left in that small town he was run out of. She had no trouble handling herself, and the man was in awe. He marveled at his knight in shining armor, or should he say, knightess in dirty fatigue?

They made eye contact as she ran towards him, she holsters her gun and reaches a hand out to him. The woman had a mask covering most of her face, so he couldn't see her expression, but took her hand anyway and beams up at her "Thanks for the hand, luv." He is yanked up off the ground and stood to his feet. He tries to get a better look at the woman. He didn't expect her to be so strong, but he is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears her voice. "You can thank me later, now come on, let's get a move on!" She lets go of his hand and gestures for him to follow her, taking off down the hill. The young man shakes his head and gives her a nod. As the horde slips down the hill, he follows after his 'princess charming'.

The horde was not fast, just persistent, as the man ran behind the leading lady. She hadn't waited for him to get his bearings to catch up, already having made it down the hill and was running into the valley below. He hadn't caught her name, but that really didn't matter at this moment; she was clearly experienced and that was a trait that was needed. They have to run a bit of a ways away into the valley. It was a vast clearing in between the acre wood trees and a towering, snowy mountain. Once the young man catches up to the woman, he stops to catch his breath. "God dayum do you run fast, miss," he chuckles but trails off into a groan, placing his hands on his knees. He bends over for better air flow and when he looks back up for the woman, she is in front of a stream. This body of water led to a larger pond to the far left, and had seven stones across it forming a path towards the mountain. She stretched and glanced back at him, "We out ran them for now, but we still need to get to safety. My cabin isn't too far from here, we just have to cross this stream and go up there." She says, pointing up at the mountain. He raises his eyebrows at her, "You want me to climb up there?!"

The horde behind them begins to catch up as he's still taking a breather; rolling down the hill as they trip over one another. "Ah, shit! We gotta move, NOW!" She shouts as she secures her backpack and her gun; She then backs up and leaps onto the first stone. While she hops across, she doesn't hear much movement behind her. After making it across, she looks back to see him still on the first stone; off balanced with the horde hot in pursuit. "MOVE YOUR ASS, MAN!" Her voice had become desperate, watching him jump from stone to stone. Miscalculating his footing on the last hurtle, he almost falls into the rushing stream. Just barely sticking the landing on the seventh stone. He tries to laugh it off, but is propelled to the other side when a zombie falls over and grabs at him. They were here, no time for silly mannerisms. The adrenaline pumping through his veins gave him just the boost he needed to get across, managing to fall onto his chest against the grassy plain. The woman shakes her head, but is relieved that he made it across, she takes off once again when she sees him pick himself up and tail after her with some pep in his step.

They reach the mountain edge, leaving the horde behind them once again in the open field. But they weren't far behind. The man looks the mountain over as he frantically tries to find a way up. He wasn't seeing any way up, so he looked over to her, she did lead him here after all. All he could see was rocky terrain, foliage, and what looked like a staircase that was now more of a flattened ladder. "How on earth do we get all the way up there?" His voice was panicked, adrenaline still pumping. She doesn't respond, just reaches a gloved hand out and feels along the ridges of the rocky formation. This confused the man at first, but that confusion quickly turned into impatience as he could hear the undead approaching. The dead hadn't gotten across the steam, but their wails and commotion in trying to do so alerted the others that were already lurking around the valley. The young man parted his lips to say something and stopped mid breath as her hand pushed in an oddly shaped rock that had protruded ever so slightly against the earthy wall. This triggered something, turning that flat staircase into a ramp before his eyes. She turns to him and gives what looks like a smile through her mask for just an instance, then proceeds to scale up the ramp. She had left him starstruck, but he had to stay focused with the horde hot on their trail. Following right behind, he too ascends the mountain.

It wasn't a far climb, her cabin rested on a plateau 20 ft' off the valley ground. The mountain didn't seem as tall as the man originally perceived it to be either; the top being maybe only 100 yards away from her cabin, and only a few feet taller. It looked quaint and beautiful covered in snow, basking in the glow of the setting sun. If the circumstances were different, he'd have admired the cozy cottage more intently. But they weren't, and they needed to get inside asap

They rush up onto the precipice of the ramp. The woman stops and motions for the adolescent to keep running towards the cabin. She lets him run past her before she uses her foot to feel along the ground. Her foot finds the hidden step pad just in time. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a dedicated zombie crawling on its stomach and trying to reach for her ankle. She aggressively stomps on the pad and watches as the few zombies that caught up with them plummet to the ground below. A sadistic chuckle bubbles up inside of her at the sight. "Now that's badass!" the man proclaims, nodding in approval. Her head whips around at his voice, "Didn't I tell you to go on ahead?!" she shouts, a bit peeved that he didn't listen. She couldn't stay annoyed with him though; it did look pretty cool.

They go up the five steps before her cabin and make their way inside. He helps her shut the front door, then watches as she pulls a make-shift steel door and slides it in front of the wooden one, sealing them in. She then jumps up to reach a long latch, but it seems to be stuck in place. After a few tugs, she sighs, "Don't just stand there staring, come help me! Go on the other side and push the latch up, I'll keep pulling this end down." Her voice commands, grabbing his attention. "Right, sorry," he runs over to the other side of the latch and does as instructed. The added force un-jams the latch, allowing it to jut out of its confinement along the wall and glide into place across the steel door. Once all the windows were locked as well, they breathe a sigh of relief now that the cabin is fortified. She puts her bag down on a foot cubby by the door and puts her shoes and coat in a blue crate next to the cubby, "Make yourself comfy, but please put those dirty shoes and that coat in this crate first. I'll be right back." All he can do is nod his head, she didn't give him any time to respond before she walked past him and went into a lantern lite bathroom, shutting the door behind her. He shrugs his shoulders and removes his blood-soaked coat. Placing it in the crate on top of his shoes, he takes the time to look around the foyer. It was small and led straight into the kitchen; only being sectioned off by two pillars that formed an arch way before a kitchen island, accompanied by two partition walls that frame the kitchen. On his right, down a small hall, was the bathroom door. And to his left was a deeper hallway that led to a living room bathed in the setting sun's rays. This place was foreign to him, but It felt warm. 'This is nice, let's see what we have here,' he thought to himself. With a faint smile he made himself acquainted with her kitchen.