P a r t 1
I walk down the street. Tired and weak. My legs seem to break into pieces from walking for days and days. Moans of the walkers in the background.
Angrily i kick a can of anything away and continue walking along that lonely road in a lonely town in a lonely, messed up and bloody world where nothing will ever be nice again. Nothing
There was a short time when i thought theres a little piece of hope. I had my brother and two of my best friends on my side but they died.
I'm alone and to be honest, i don't think there's any reason to fight against the death but i do.
Maybe because it brings me joy or maybe because it's the only way to keep my boredom away.
I climb up a dirty, white van to calm down a bit.
I put my rucksack next to me and look for some food but all i can find is some package of food, some clothes and other irrelevant stuff.
At least I'm saved from the walkers for a while.
The hot sun burns down my body and makes me feel good at the same time. I could just fall asleep right now but i have to watch out.
Walkers are trying to reach me and smash against the van.
They're like animals, dump and all they wanna do is eat.
I glide my hand trough my hair as I hear a loud motor, making the walkers heads turn around.
A motorcycle appears in my view and makes me wonder.
I really thought that town is completely empty.
I watch the motorcycle making it's way right in my direction.
A muscular man in a black leather jacked and a pretty handsome face is riding the bike.
He killes the walkers like it's nothing and get's off his bike.
He slowly walks in my direction.
I'm still looking at him,wondered.
" You're alone?" He askes with a rough voice and a nice Georgia accent
" Yeah" I answere and jump off of the van
" How many walkers have you killed?" He continues while checking me out emotionless
" Can't count anymore"
" How many people?"
" No people yet"
He nodds quickly
" Wanna join the group?"
" Which group?"
" Get your ass on the bike and shut up"
What a gentleman. Well. Everything's better than being alone
By m y s e l f