it was a few hours until night would hit, Glenn, Rick, Daryl had been out on a supply run for hours now, leaving the comfort of the farm their group had only recently found; which was run by a family called the Greenes, to come out and provide food, basic necessities and supplies. Since dawn right up until dusk they had been out, scavenging through a few old car trunks that had been left and abandoned by their previous owners.

everything seemed so peaceful, the only sound were that of birds chirping somewhere amongst the thick trees, the shuffling of their worn boots through the old fallen pine needles, dead leaves and broken sticks. That was until rick heard a sudden quiet rustling coming from a bush a few meters away from him, the sound was so faint it would have been missed on any other occasion.

the three were immediately on high alert, weapons drawn, all simultaneously pointing knives, the barrel of a gun and whatever else that had on hand at the offending Shriners, they automatically assumed it was a walker. Rick turns to the other two men, who were also eyeing the bush warily, and Signals them with a small hand gesture to follow him.

You hear fast approaching group’s footfalls, the grip on the handle of your weapon tightens as you lock your eyes onto their nearing forms through the dense leaves covering your location. your hand shakes faintly as your grip tightens around the hand grip of your knife, a small, almost mediocre weapon to have in the apocalypse, but it was all you had.

Glenn: "come out and we won’t shoot!" one of the voices call out, the sudden volume startles you, the bush your taking cover in shakes as you jerk back only slightly. being surrounded by nothing by open wilderness and flesh eating dead people had grown to be a norm, not people suddenly trying to communicate with you

you try to slow your breathing from the sudden fright, contemplate whether to actually do just that. On one hand, they might take you back to their group, if they had one that is. On the other? they could just be a bunch of psychos like the last group you had come into contact with

decisions, decisions

you decide on the former, slowly creeping out of the bush, your body was shaking uncontrollably as you do so, your eyes flicking between the three men. being alone in the apocalypse was hard enough by itself, but being alone in the apocalypse as a teenager? it seemed impossible.