Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2015 12:49:47 GMT -5
She moved forward in a dull trudge, not knowing how much longer she could go on but knowing that she must do so for as long as she possibly could. She kept hoping that someone would find her, that she would stumble upon some good samaritan who would save her but she had long ago decided that she probably wouldn't. She was being punished for leaving again. The prophet had warned her that she would never make it on the outside now. That she was weak and that she would be eaten up by this world. She sobbed, trying to remember why she kept walking. She was cold, she was hungry, and she was tired. She looked down at her arm. The wound was still bleeding but she had not had time to properly care for it since she had received it a couple of days ago. She shivered as she stared at the bare skin of her chest. She had been forced to wrap her arm to make sure she wouldn't bleed out.
I'm not bit, she told herself. It had become like a mantra. She knew that it was one of the first questions that she would be asked if she was found and it needed to be firm in her head. I'm not bit. She turned her head and saw them. The dead things that were shambling about 500 feet behind her. She hadn't bothered counting them but she was sure that there were over 20 of the things. They had slowly trickled in, first a couple at a time and then as the days went by fewer and fewer joined the fray, until for the last day she had seen no new additions. She wished that she had a knife, not for the dead, but for herself. She knew that she could not make it much longer, I am not bit, she thought to herself, her mantra pushing her forward. She knew what happened when people were bit.
She stumbled on a rock that was buried under the snow and slammed down into the snow. She knew that stopping meant dying and crawled forward, until her legs felt able to push her up again and she rose to her feet. The snow had soaked her jeans and her skin felt like it was freezing. Her medical knowledge told her that she wouldn't make it much longer. The effects of hypothermia had already set in and now that she was wet she didn't have much longer. Her eyes fluttered shut and she saw in front of her the man that she had killed. It had taken every ounce of courage she could muster to pull the trigger and now she wished that she had not done it.
"I had to do it. I couldn't carry one of their children. I couldn't bring a child into that. I had to do it. I had to do it."
The second part of her mantra. She felt so guilty about pulling that trigger. He had not even been the worst of them. Paul had actually been sweet to her. He never even demanded she do what was expected of her but when she had begged him to help her escape he had threatened to go to the prophet. If he had done that she would have never had a chance. I had to do it.
Her first shot had torn through his arm and he had screamed out. Her room was far away from the main living area of the rest of the compound, she was outsider, unclean, and the other woman didn't want to think about what happened to her. They knew that for them, this place was safe and that the outside was dangerous. They knew that the prophet had predicted the end of the world and he had been proven right. How could they rebel against him when he was right. Obviously he knew the truth and everything that he was doing had to be for the good of the people he cared for. No one questioned him. To question the prophet was to beg for banishment, a fate that with the world as it is now almost certainly meant death. Her second shot had found it's home in his head. I had to do it.
Her body was slowly shutting down and she continued to move by sheer force of will. I am not bitten. I must remind myself of those things. I am not bitten, I had to do it. She had slowed down now and the dead were maybe only 200 feet behind her now and she could hear their guttural noises. Her eyes started drifting shut and she fell once again. This time she didn't get up right away, she couldn't seem to get her legs to work properly and she almost fell asleep. How long has it been since I slept? I wonder if I would wake up when they started eating me? The dead got closer, now maybe only 100 feet behind her. She wanted to give up, to let them tear into her flesh, more than anything she just wanted to sleep. To be done with the running. Why didn't I take the gun? At least I could have ended it.
She pushed herself back up to her feet and moved forward again. She reached the top of a small hill and what she saw when she did took her breath away. There was a lake, half frozen over as it was. More importantly however was the wooden fort that stood by the lake. She could barely see the outlines of people walking the walls and her amazement was so extreme that she almost fell to her knees. If not for the dead, now only 75 feet from her. She moved forward, her heart had new hope but her body had almost nothing left. What if it's just just a mirage? Not that it matters, she thought. If it's a mirage I'm dead whether I go to it or not. Obviously it couldn't really be a mirage but her mind was far too gone to recognize that fact.
What if to they are not good people? Then you do what you have to do to survive. You did it back at the compound, you will do it here. I had to do it, I'm not bitten. The camp got closer and closer and she could hear noise coming from inside. It was still distant so the sounds were still quiet and only the loudest sounds from inside the camp would make it this far out to her ears. She smiled to herself, which took more effort than any smile ever should. She really hoped that they would save her but at least if they didn't she could tell herself on the way out that she had done everything she could to try and survive. I am not bitten.
She got closer but her body started to give up on her. Every step felt like it was impossible. No, she thought. I look like a dead thing. I'm not bitten, but they don't know that. She waved her hands above her head. Trying to be seen as a person and not as one of the dead things that walked closely behind her, maybe 50 feet.
"Help me," she said. Her voice not near loud enough to carry the distance. She kept walking, waving her hands over her head. I'm not bitten, I'm not bitten, I'm not bitten. Her mantra was the only thing that was keeping her going at this point.
"Help me please," she says, her voice finding some strength that she wasn't aware she had any more.
She got closer and heard someone talk behind the gate but she couldn't understand their words, or even decipher whether it was a male or female.
"Help me, I'm not bitten, I'm not bitten. Please help me. I'm not b..."
Her last word was cut off as she fell to the ground. The combination of sleep deprivation, no food, and very little water had finally taken it's toll on her body and she just couldn't continue anymore. She would either die here in front of the camp or they would kill the dead and save her. She had done what she could, now it was up to them.
*One day after the events of Displaced Trust.
I'm not bit, she told herself. It had become like a mantra. She knew that it was one of the first questions that she would be asked if she was found and it needed to be firm in her head. I'm not bit. She turned her head and saw them. The dead things that were shambling about 500 feet behind her. She hadn't bothered counting them but she was sure that there were over 20 of the things. They had slowly trickled in, first a couple at a time and then as the days went by fewer and fewer joined the fray, until for the last day she had seen no new additions. She wished that she had a knife, not for the dead, but for herself. She knew that she could not make it much longer, I am not bit, she thought to herself, her mantra pushing her forward. She knew what happened when people were bit.
She stumbled on a rock that was buried under the snow and slammed down into the snow. She knew that stopping meant dying and crawled forward, until her legs felt able to push her up again and she rose to her feet. The snow had soaked her jeans and her skin felt like it was freezing. Her medical knowledge told her that she wouldn't make it much longer. The effects of hypothermia had already set in and now that she was wet she didn't have much longer. Her eyes fluttered shut and she saw in front of her the man that she had killed. It had taken every ounce of courage she could muster to pull the trigger and now she wished that she had not done it.
"I had to do it. I couldn't carry one of their children. I couldn't bring a child into that. I had to do it. I had to do it."
The second part of her mantra. She felt so guilty about pulling that trigger. He had not even been the worst of them. Paul had actually been sweet to her. He never even demanded she do what was expected of her but when she had begged him to help her escape he had threatened to go to the prophet. If he had done that she would have never had a chance. I had to do it.
Her first shot had torn through his arm and he had screamed out. Her room was far away from the main living area of the rest of the compound, she was outsider, unclean, and the other woman didn't want to think about what happened to her. They knew that for them, this place was safe and that the outside was dangerous. They knew that the prophet had predicted the end of the world and he had been proven right. How could they rebel against him when he was right. Obviously he knew the truth and everything that he was doing had to be for the good of the people he cared for. No one questioned him. To question the prophet was to beg for banishment, a fate that with the world as it is now almost certainly meant death. Her second shot had found it's home in his head. I had to do it.
Her body was slowly shutting down and she continued to move by sheer force of will. I am not bitten. I must remind myself of those things. I am not bitten, I had to do it. She had slowed down now and the dead were maybe only 200 feet behind her now and she could hear their guttural noises. Her eyes started drifting shut and she fell once again. This time she didn't get up right away, she couldn't seem to get her legs to work properly and she almost fell asleep. How long has it been since I slept? I wonder if I would wake up when they started eating me? The dead got closer, now maybe only 100 feet behind her. She wanted to give up, to let them tear into her flesh, more than anything she just wanted to sleep. To be done with the running. Why didn't I take the gun? At least I could have ended it.
She pushed herself back up to her feet and moved forward again. She reached the top of a small hill and what she saw when she did took her breath away. There was a lake, half frozen over as it was. More importantly however was the wooden fort that stood by the lake. She could barely see the outlines of people walking the walls and her amazement was so extreme that she almost fell to her knees. If not for the dead, now only 75 feet from her. She moved forward, her heart had new hope but her body had almost nothing left. What if it's just just a mirage? Not that it matters, she thought. If it's a mirage I'm dead whether I go to it or not. Obviously it couldn't really be a mirage but her mind was far too gone to recognize that fact.
What if to they are not good people? Then you do what you have to do to survive. You did it back at the compound, you will do it here. I had to do it, I'm not bitten. The camp got closer and closer and she could hear noise coming from inside. It was still distant so the sounds were still quiet and only the loudest sounds from inside the camp would make it this far out to her ears. She smiled to herself, which took more effort than any smile ever should. She really hoped that they would save her but at least if they didn't she could tell herself on the way out that she had done everything she could to try and survive. I am not bitten.
She got closer but her body started to give up on her. Every step felt like it was impossible. No, she thought. I look like a dead thing. I'm not bitten, but they don't know that. She waved her hands above her head. Trying to be seen as a person and not as one of the dead things that walked closely behind her, maybe 50 feet.
"Help me," she said. Her voice not near loud enough to carry the distance. She kept walking, waving her hands over her head. I'm not bitten, I'm not bitten, I'm not bitten. Her mantra was the only thing that was keeping her going at this point.
"Help me please," she says, her voice finding some strength that she wasn't aware she had any more.
She got closer and heard someone talk behind the gate but she couldn't understand their words, or even decipher whether it was a male or female.
"Help me, I'm not bitten, I'm not bitten. Please help me. I'm not b..."
Her last word was cut off as she fell to the ground. The combination of sleep deprivation, no food, and very little water had finally taken it's toll on her body and she just couldn't continue anymore. She would either die here in front of the camp or they would kill the dead and save her. She had done what she could, now it was up to them.
*One day after the events of Displaced Trust.