"Please picture me in the trees, I hit my peak at seven

Feet in the swing over the creek, I was too scared to jump in

But I was high in the sky with Pennsylvania under me

Are there still beautiful things?"

– Seven, T.S.

Mila

The sun shone high over the Georgia landscape, bright and burning against my cheeks and shoulders. I could feel the tell-tale tingle of a sunburn forming, but it was hopeless to do anything other than continue putting one foot in front of the other down the worn dirt trail. A quiet hum absentmindedly played in my throat, a bad habit from the before days– quiet enough to not garner any unwanted walker attention but loud enough that I probably wasn't doing a great job of listening out for them coming anyway. I couldn't bring myself to care.

My eyes scanned through the trees before deciding that I should probably be doing a better job of camouflaging myself and heading off to walk between the brush. I kept my eyes on the trail and made sure not to veer off too far, not wanting to lose my only landmark, but my raw skin was grateful to have a break from the unforgiving UV rays. There was no destination to head to, I was truly just walking for something to do– other than waiting for death to come to me. Just me, the bird song above me, and my thoughts. If I walked fast enough, maybe I could outrun them. Just for another hour. Or day. This was life now, always outrunning whatever new threat presented itself until you were confronted with the next one.

I pulled my backpack from my shoulders and rechecked the contents, even though I was already sure what I'd find. Half a bottle of water, barely two handfuls of stale trailmix, a box of half full matches, a light windbreaker jacket, a beat up picture, and a pocketknife with a too-small blade that meant I had to get very close to my target to use it. All in all, I had about another day to find shelter, water, and food– in that order. No big deal. I sighed and tried not to feel the impending claustrophobia of my survival closing in. As incongruent as it seemed, the walls of society crumbling and making way for a borderless, nightmarish landscape actually made the world feel smaller. I couldn't think about it too hard or it made it hard to breathe. I promised Aly that I would try to survive and that's exactly what I was doing– surviving. But no one could make me live. My only goal was to keep my heart beating, dodge the dead on my back, find another drink of water, and wait until this flesh of a prison gave up and allowed me to breathe my final sigh of relief. I would keep my promise to my sister, as long as there was still a chance that she was alive. When that chance went away, so did my commitment to it. She wouldn't be around to care anyway. God knows I don't.

My calves burned from exertion and my mouth was dry, but I wasn't going to risk using up the last of the water that I had before finding my next source to refill. There were wants and there were needs, and I probably didn't need water for another 6 hours… as long as the sun let up and I conserved my energy. I can't remember the last time I peed– maybe this morning?- which seemed like a bad sign, but I pushed thoughts of kidney failure aside. One problem at a time. In front of me, scarlet ribbons in the dirt caught my eye. It sure looked like blood, dripped every few feet. I didn't mean to follow it, it must've been morbid fascination and a lack of critical thinking that guided my trail, but my feet listened to my eyes and my brain was too tired to stop it.

Crack.

I stopped moving and held my breath, ears perked up by a snapped twig, to try and get a sense of direction and proximity to the origin of the sound. I quietly stepped toward a tree trunk and placed it behind my back, uselessly guessing which angle would give me the most cover from an unseen threat. I reached for my pocket and cursed myself to find it empty, remembering too late that I had put the pocket knife back in my pack. To draw it now would mean risking that whatever was out here with me would also hear the zipper or the swish of my windbreaker. Too big of a chance to take. Fighting takes strength I didn't have and a weapon I couldn't access. Hiding it was.

My lungs burned as I took a slow breath in, as quietly as possible, and craned my head to try and hear anything else. I heard nothing, not even the birds that had been singing earlier– an ominous sign. Too frustrated to be scared, I leaned my head back on the rough bark and closed my eyes to imagine Aly and I laying by our favorite lake, me with a book and her with her sketchpad. The water glittered as a light breeze rippled over it. The scent of pine. A hint of a smile tugged at my lips as I could almost hear her laugh, before my heart plummeted down into my stomach. I didn't even know to be grateful for a moment that I thought we'd get many more of. I didn't know how much everything would change and that wide open spaces would never feel any amount of safe again. Disappointed in my inability to even daydream myself out of this reality, I opened my eyes and jumped as they were met by another pair. Steely blue and suspicious, tucked behind a crossbow.

"What are ya doin'?"

A husky southern drawl confirmed that this was a human and not the remnants of what used to be one, if the loaded weapon wasn't enough of an indication. I tried to conjure my brain for an answer, but I was coming up short. What was I doing? I had no plan, not enough provisions to last, and no one watching my back. It was only a matter of time until something or someone took me out. At least I tried. I'm sorry, Aly. If you're even still out there. The stranger eyed me over, looking a little more concerned than suspicious, but kept his crossbow raised.

"Are you alone?"

My heart raced as I gulped. Being a woman in society always seemed to present certain disadvantages and risks, but never more so than now. Nothing good ever came from saying yes to this question. I shrank into the tree behind me, wishing I could disappear and knowing that no one was coming to save me. Just me, with my one tiny, buried weapon and this man with both an intimidating one and muscular arms that could easily overpower me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I looked to the sky and I wished for a quick death, over any of the other horrific possibilities that were laid out in front of me.

"Whoa, hey." I looked back up at him and he was putting his trigger hand up in a silent surrender while using his other to lower the crossbow. "I didn't mean to scare ya. I have a group near here…" It was my turn to eye him suspiciously now, examining his words under a microscope to look for any hidden agendas or hazards. "With women and children. If ya need somewhere safe to go. It'll be dark in just a few hours."

I chewed the inside of my cheek, a nervous habit when I was deep in thought, and heavily weighed my options. Continue walking alone and hope I somehow find shelter, food, and water before night falls or follow a stranger to an unknown group and hope they didn't chop me into little pieces, or worse. I mentally shrugged as my end of the world mantra played in my head– survive or die trying. If what he said was true, this was my best shot.

"Okay." He looked surprised that I could speak. He must've thought I was mute from how long I had taken to answer. "I'll go with you. But I'd feel better if you'd just let me follow you and stopped pointing the crossbow at me." I dipped my chin at it for emphasis. "You try any sketchy shit and I'll stab you. I mean it." I tried to look intimidating, but was guessing I failed from the shadow of a smirk on his lips.

"Understood. Back at ya."

"Understood," I conceded, as I took a tentative step forward. He turned and slowly began walking, but I could sense that his guard was up to anticipate me making any sudden movements. No one could trust anyone anymore. It was the goddamn apocalypse and it brought out the worst in people. Trust got you killed.

"What are you looking at? You lost or something?" I asked after a few quiet steps, watching the way he stared intently at the ground. Careful and intentional, but also confident. I couldn't stop the way my eyes were drawn to his lithe movements, obviously seeing something that I wasn't.

"Nah, trackin'. I shot a deer before I found ya. Thought it was time for somethin' other than squirrel." My eyebrows raised, impressed. Aly and I lived a nomadic life since the world went to shit, which meant we floated from group to group. Hitchhiked with whoever seemed to have a semblance of a plan, running from groups that turned out to be less safe than they pretended to be. All of them had relied on finding pantry items in hidden kitchen cabinets– none had ever managed to be self-sufficient in hunting for food.

"Wow… that's impressive." It slipped out before my mental filter could catch it, but I didn't care. I meant it. His head snapped over to look at me, once again suspicious, and I lifted a questioning eyebrow. Whatever he saw on my face must've answered something for him, because he dropped his eyes back down to the ground and mumbled out,

"Nah, just had to eat. Just doin' what I've done all my life." Even though he was downplaying it, I thought I could see a hint of pink tinge his ears and cheeks. His statement rattled around my brain and made me think about the fact that I'd been running to survive all my life, and I still didn't seem to be any good at it. He looked back to address me now. "You got a name?"

"Mila." He considered this for a moment before offering his own.

"I'm Daryl."

—-

Daryl

I tried to keep a wide berth from the girl I'm pretty sure I just scared the shit out of, stumbling into her in the woods with a giant crossbow pointed at her face. It took me a moment to realize how it would look, especially as I registered the fear in her eyes and the tremble of her hands, but she seems to have calmed down now. My eyes were trained down, carefully following the hoof path of the doe I'd shot, but I shot the occasional glance her way to check that she was still following me. She was quieter than anyone else who had been tracking with me, which I appreciated. Meant this doe wasn't going to see us coming so I could finish the job quickly. I'm getting damn tired of squirrels and with the way I'm catching them, soon this area won't have any left.

I hadn't even known she was there, until I heard humming– which isn't a sound you hear much of these days. Groaning, sure. Screaming, occasionally. But humming had been firmly left behind in the pre-walker days. It was a pretty stupid thing to do. Not only could it attract the dead to you, but you also couldn't hear them coming. Just like she couldn't hear me coming. Although, I'm stealthy enough that most people didn't hear me coming until it was too late. I got distracted by seeing her though and stepped on a twig– a real rookie move. I knew better, but she obviously didn't spend much time in the forest because she didn't even know which direction I was in. I watched her back into a tree trunk, as if she was hiding, despite her remaining in my eyeline the entire time. No backup, no weapon, no chance. She's lucky I found her and not some other asshole. I thanked my lucky stars that Merle wasn't with me neither, or she definitely would've ran for the hills.

My thoughts were mostly quiet but kept finding their way back to the way she had called my hunting abilities impressive. I initially thought she was fucking with me and being sarcastic, but when I looked at her, I saw nothing but sincerity. The fire in my chest had burned out as quickly as it had engulfed me. It caught me off guard. I guess I'm too used to being around Merle, who loves to hear himself talk and put me in my place while he's at it. I haven't ever heard someone use the word impressive to talk about me. It felt good, momentarily, which made me feel bad for much longer.

She didn't know what the hell she was talking about. Probably has never met a hunter in her life and thinks anyone who can survive without a TV dinner is impressive. She was pretty though. All hazel eyes and wild, brown curly hair with golden streaks around her face. Like a goddamn halo. Big, feline eyes and a nice smile. I scowled as I thought of it. She was pretty enough to remind me of the girls who could be real ugly to me at school, always thinking they were better than me because of how I grew up. I'm sure she'd be no different once we got back to camp and she sees what everyone else thinks of the Dixon family. Just two simple-minded, redneck nobodies to avoid.