#pretty sure I copy and pasted these in the right order- I didn't re-read to check :/ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oncegilded-blog · 8 years ago

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@anarchywithin - Call me an asshole, but after reading this I kinda want to keep it going! >.> I know I’d said I’d give us a new thread, and I still will HC wise wrap this up if you want. I just wanted to give you a chance to read it all yourself, if you care to.

▬♦M♦▬

How long had it been since David disappeared? Weeks? A month now? In a way it felt like yesterday they were just joking at how awful his ‘snake stew’ was. But somehow it also seemed like ages since she’d been on her own— and on foot. The SUV had run out of gas, again. Tess was feeling ill. David’s ammo was all but gone. And aside from the random critters they managed to pick off, food supplies were dangerously low. So, he had set off alone to bring back whatever he could to get them going once more. When days passed, and so had Tess’ stomach bug, without signs of David’s return, she was forced to set out herself in hopes of finding either him, or some form of salvation. Instead she faced starvation, and the very real threat of losing her damn mind. They’d went on supply runs together before, but they never should have separated this time. He should have waited til she felt better, but he was just sure she’d get worse without something decent to put on her tumultuous stomach. It was one of the rare times the man had been wrong, and it may very well be the last time too. Without company, and hope dwindling, days began to blur together, and desperation set in, causing her usually sharp wits to fail her. See Tess had cleverly devised a two part system to keep the zombies at bay. She slathered strong smelling plant on herself to hide her body odor, and had a sack of stinking undead entrails tied to the upper shaft of a spear she’d fashioned. Being quiet and stealthy helped as well, but when the creatures would wander too close, she’d tilt that spear out towards them, so they’d get a whiff of their own kind. And on the odd times this method failed to camouflage her, she’d already have a lethal weapon pointed at their head. All in all it was a pretty creative way to avoid a lot of trouble. However it required frequent reapplication of said plants, and re-saturation of that bag whenever possible. Sometime in her haze of days and dizziness over lack of adequate nourishment, she’d gone too lax in her protective measures, and the ache in her belly clouded her head even more, having her put herself in a sticky situation over the promise of a potential meal. Now roughed up, trapped, and surrounded by the undead, Tess was certain her ticket was punched.

_______________________________________

Sawyer couldn’t tell if the woman was sick, crazy, or delirious from hunger and dehydration.

Maybe it was all of the above. At any rate, every second he spent watching her brought her closer to being ripped apart from all sides.

He counted nine. Nine stiffs all closing in on her, apparently unconvinced by the sack of rotting entrails she had been hauling. Nice trick. He’d have to remember that in the future. Assuming he lived through what he was about to do.

You never want a reason to make a Molotov cocktail, but in this day and age, it doesn’t hurt to keep a few of the materials handy. They’re not that hard to make, and Sawyer had practice even before the world ended. Back in Afghanistan, cut off from your squad and surrounded by the enemy — and very nearly out of bullets — you do what you can to hold fast until backup arrives. On more than one occasion, it meant slapping together an improvised incendiary weapon that was as likely to burn your fingers off as your intended target’s.

He judged in a split second that the woman could hold the dead at bay just long enough for him to rip the rucksack off his back and tear through it in search of the bottle he’d been saving for just such an occasion. Well, a glass jar, really, but the moonshine sloshing around inside it was the important part. He’d lifted it from the basement of some hillbilly’s hunting cabin slash homemade distillery, figuring that since no one in their right mind would want to trade for it and risk blinding themselves, it might as well be good for setting something on fire. He mixed it with a bit of dish soap and wedged in a ragged, alcohol-soaked cloth to act as a wick, before stuffing it in the bottom of his bag and hoping he’d never have to use it.

Wrenching the lid off, he pulled out his lighter and lit the end of the rag, barely feeling the heat glancing off his skin as he hurled it with all his might towards the dead.

It burst on one’s shoulder and splashed onto the two standing closest to it, igniting them both like dry kindling. The others paused, turning to blink sluggishly at their companions and momentarily forgetting the woman practically within their grasp.

Sawyer was already out of the bushes and marching towards them, gun raised, bullets cracking out in rapid succession. He didn’t have nearly enough to put down the whole crew, but he could at least cut their numbers down enough before finishing them off with his machete. The three on fire had fallen to the ground, but were still crawling determinedly towards the woman as if they could be extinguished with just one taste of her flesh. They were slow, though, and in a matter of minutes they would be nothing but charred bones.

“Get up!” Sawyer barked to the woman, grimacing as his gun finally hit that empty ‘click’. He stuffed it back into its holster under his arm and unsheathed the machete with a dry hiss, cleaving it through the first skull he came upon. By the time he wrenched it loose, another two were practically on top of the woman. He grabbed one by the back of its mouldy shirt and flung it backwards, surprised and repulsed at how damn near weightless it was.

No time to finish it off; he had to get them away from her.

“Come on, move it,” he snapped, noticing that she still hadn’t moved. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was deaf, or crazy, or sick, or injured, or any number of things that might keep a person rooted to the spot in a situation like this. Hell, maybe she was bitten. Maybe this was all just a waste of his time.

Swearing under his breath, Sawyer hacked through the fray and managed to clear a bit of space between her and those rotting, outstretched hands. There wasn’t enough time for proper head shots. All he could do was crowd control, severing limbs and breaking knee caps where and when he could. Just for the breathing room, the scant few seconds to think —

Before he knew it, the ground around them was littered with toppled bodies. Most still moving, but no longer an immediate threat. The burning corpses had stopped crawling, but still writhed in vain. Their acrid stench stung Sawyer’s nostrils, making his eyes water as he chanced a quick glance back down at the woman.

“You okay?” he panted, unaware of the decrepit blood splattered all over him. You bit? was the underlying question — as it usually is, in chance meetings like this — but now it seemed there would be time to deal with that later.

___________________________ ▬♦M♦▬ It had been the first lil town she’d come across in awhile. Salvation. Or so she’d hoped. Catching sight of a some corner store, windows below boarded up, living quarters above with a window open—- it looked so inviting. The Plan: Move the dumpster a bit, climb up, slip inside, find a way to the lower section, and raid the store. Risky? Yeah, especially since she was poorly armed to take on anyone, or thing, inside. She’d have to leave her spear, rely on her knife, get close up—- something she didn’t like to do unless she had to. Still, it was the only shot she saw to possibly get a meal. Autumn had left the edible vegetation scarce, the undead kept getting to all the rabbits in her snares first, and she’d had her last energy bar two days before. Tess was desperate. The dumpster moved, but not without making a bit of a ruckus. Every inch the wheels squealed, metal grating on metal, she cringed, knowing it would attract attention, but not having a choice. Once in place she scaled it as quietly as possible, jumped up, and started to haul herself through the window. It wasn’t easy with fatigue and mal-nourishment weighing heavy on her body. But she was certain she could do it. However she’d not been the only one lured by that open window. Someone else had beat her to it, and been attacked inside. Well perhaps that’s what happened. Either way, someone didn’t quite make it back out the window, and what was left of him was under the sill, grasping up at her, snatching hold of her sleeve. The shriek she let out was small, but unavoidable as she pulled back and fell from the window. Ass met metal dumpster lid, then she was unceremoniously cast off it to the cement, rolling her into the chain link a few feet away. Yeah that rang her bell real good. By the time her head started to clear, they were on her. Well, almost. The fence was between them, bowing down upon her with the weight of the undead attempting to sink their teeth into her. Had the dumpster not have been there to catch the edge of the wire, she’d be pressed down flat to the pavement, trapped beneath them. So, thankfully she had a bit of wiggle room, but not much. However that meant they had it as well. Clawing up the fence, spilling over the top edge, and trying to climb into the niche she was in, they were blocking her escape. Thrusting the knife into the nearest ones, a small pile stared to block others from getting to her from that side. The other– well it was only blocked by a bit of wooden palates and boxes, easy enough for her to kick out of her way and crawl through. Though now she found herself facing even more of the undead, shambling around the corner and trying to get to her over top of the rubble she’d unceremoniously cast aside. Frantically stretching back in for her spear, she pulled it through and thrust upward, catching the first one in the side of the face. But she hadn’t managed to get to her feet yet. That’s when she heard it— the crack of a glass bottle upon the back of those further before her, then the heat and sizzle of the eruption that caused. Someone else was entering the fray it seemed, and attention was momentarily pulled from her to the burning backs of the ones struck with the makeshift Molotov. It would have been the best time to make a move. To climb atop the dumpster or over the cleared part of the fence to flee, —-but gunfire followed. Gunfire followed, and the cracking was so loud that Tess flinched hard, the echo of that sound reverberating off the nearby building, causing her head to ring from the spill she’d taken. Scrambling back til she was pressed against the wall she tried to push herself up, but weakness and some lingering disorientation combined with the gunfire and flames to cause the perfect storm of near paralyzing conditions. Suddenly she was fighting back a panic attack, trying to get her head clear and keep it from slipping back to horrible images of her past. Breaths came in heavy pants, eyes wide staring into the oncoming herd, but not quite seeing it as she should. All she could focus on was that sound— and that smell. Fire. Burning flesh. Her stomach rolled and heaved, but she bit it all back, forced with all her will to push out everything but the hear and now. A voice is what finally snaped her back. A strange voice, but it was a welcome sound. The groaning and gun shots had stopped. The sizzle still remained, but was dying. And she— she was safe. It was obvious when she became fully lucid once more, eyes sparking back from some distant and dark place, blinking rapidly and raking up the man before her with a sense of shock, and perhaps a hint of awe. He’d taken them out– all of them. "I— I am now—“ With an unsteady voice, and even more unstead legs, she pushed herself up, then pulled her spear from the head of an undead at her feet to use it as a bit of a crutch, leaning against it to get her barrings once more. Typically she’d have been incredibly leery of strangers after her last run in with them, but he— well he’d just battled through a decent sized herd of hungry corpses to help her. How horrible could he be? Dangerous perhaps— She mused, eyes scanning the carnage he’d caused. But seemingly more so to the undead than the living. At least at the moment. "Oh god– I thought— I lost it. I thought I was done— T-thank you.”

____________________________________ Sawyer’s posture relaxed somewhat, a mix of relief and delayed exhaustion loosening the knots in his shoulders. He didn’t know what to expect when she finally opened her mouth, but there was a light of awareness burgeoning in her eyes as he took in their surroundings. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all. Well…no crazier than anyone else still fighting the good fight these days.

At her thanks, he just nodded and stooped to wipe the blood and blackened gore off his machete, using an obliging corpse’s shirt. “I was in the neighbourhood,” he offered. “Seemed like the thing to do.”

He glanced back up and pieced together her surroundings, noting the dumpster that appeared to have shifted ever so slightly. His eyes jumped up to the window not far above it, where a walker trapped in the narrow opening still thrashed in vain.

Standing up, he sheathed the machete and jerked his chin towards her. “Must have been quite a fall. You hit your head, or something?” That would explain her fuzziness, he supposed with a slight twinge of guilt. Perhaps he had been a little quick to prejudge. He’d seen firsthand what a head injury could do to someone. Himself, included.

Without preamble, he shrugged off his rucksack and rooted around inside for a second before emerging with a water bottle in hand. He lobbed it towards her, not for the first time congratulating himself on having stocked up at a well outside of town. He could afford to be charitable at the moment, since he seemed to be on that particular path anyway.

“I’d ask you to tell me what day it is, or month. Maybe who the president is, or something,” he ventured, half-smiling-half-wincing. “But I guess that wouldn’t really count for much these days.” Glancing around, as if searching for a reason why not, he shrugged and added, “Can you tell me your name, at least?”

She likely had a mild concussion, but he doubted she hit her head hard enough to forget a thing like that.

____________________________ ▬♦M♦▬ A hand reached back to steady herself, her head slowly nodding at him as she did so. “Y-yeah— rang my bell pretty good.” In fact she was still reeling from it, but at least she could see straight again, and wasn’t teetering on the edge of consciousnesses.

“I’m sorry I—” Slowly blinking, her gaze fell to the bottle she’d caught on instinct more than an actual decision to do so. “Thank you, but– I uh– I have water. What I could really use is um— some food.” After all it was the desperation of near starvation, and the weakness of lack of sustenance that had led her to that window, and the subsequent fall. If she had been stronger, she could have probably held on up there, and still managed to kill the undead without taking that spill. “I’m not picky.” She added as an after thought, hoping it would make him see she was willing to take just about anything at this point. Even if it was stuff he was saving until he was truly desperate himself. She didn’t care. Nasty or not, she needed to eat. A shaky hand holds out his bottle towards him, not wishing to take anyone’s water if she didn’t need to. That and perhaps a part of her never really trusted others’ water sources. It was a luxury to have the filters she did, and most folks had to resort to boiling it, and hoping they’d done so long enough to keep them from getting sick. There’s a soft huff of a laugh then though, head shaking softly, as to not make it ring any worse than it already was, and her lips curved into a faint smile. “Without work weeks, no one cares about what day it is anymore. The month is too damn close t'Christmas time. And the president is probably a walkin’ rotter. Though aren’t they usually some mindless pawn anyway? It’s the men with money that’s always had the real power, and run this world. Well— used t'be anyway.” Funny that she sounded like a bitter hippie, when really she was a reluctant heiress who saw from the inside how much money corrupted so many men. And actually she happened to know many of those men hadn’t even survived, no matter how much money they had, or how fancy of a bunker they’d built for themselves. Her father included. "My name though— Ya can call me Tess.“ Because god knows she didn’t want to say she was Teresa Montgomery. There was no telling who would recognize that name and make automatic assumptions on her and her worth, or lack there of in this world based on her past.

_______________________________________

Sawyer blinked and gave the woman a side-long look, smiling a little uncertainly. She sure was chatty, all of a sudden. Delayed reaction to the shock of very nearly dying, probably. Or maybe it had just been a while since she last crossed paths with something or someone not looking to kill her.

At any rate, it was a refreshing change of pace. He could barely remember the last actual conversation he’d had either.

“Tess,” he repeated with a nod. “Name’s Sawyer. Nice to meet you, under the circumstances.” He strode forward to retrieve his water bottle, habitually refraining from making any sudden movements. It doesn’t take much to startle people these days, and he’d rather not have a knife pulled on him out of nowhere. Not when they seemed to be getting along so nicely.

“Food, I’ve got,” he announced, before pulling a face. “Well…sort of.” Reaching back into his rucksack, he pulled out a pack of peanuts and a mushed up granola bar. There was also some trail mix and a can of beans he had found in a dead woman’s campsite, but he was saving that for more desperate times. If such a thing even existed.

“It’s not much,” he admitted, tossing them towards her, “but there’s a church a few blocks from here that I’m planning to check out. Could be some canned goods in the cellar, or something else worthwhile.”

It was an invitation as much as an assurance that he hadn’t been following her, or anything unsavoury like that. But if she had truly hit her head in some kind of fall, maybe it was best to get her off her feet for a moment.

He squinted at her a moment longer. “You sure you’re okay? I mean — you’re not bleeding or anything, right?”

Call him paranoid, but it seemed somewhat irresponsible to neglect checking for injuries now, after what the two of them had just barely escaped.

_________________________________

▬♦M♦▬ Typically Tess would ramble, or even stammer when feeling awkward, so it wasn’t any real surprise to her that she’d just went on a short tangent as soon as she found her voice once more. Then again, it had been ages since she’d even spoken aloud anyway, and that might have played a part of it as well. It was just– it was so nice to be around someone else again. Especially without that overwhelmingly nagging sense of suspicion and fear. After all, he did go far out of his way to save her, and then offered her some of his water. Even if he had nefarious plans for her later, for the moment she felt a fair amount safer in his presence. The bottles slips form her hand into his with a nod of gratitude, and a faint smile. "Sawyer— thank you.“ Again she caught what he tossed without much thought, blinking down at the items in her hands with a look of relief washing over her. "N-no, this is great. Thanks again.” Protein! She didn’t care if it was in peanut form, even if a steak sounded a helluva lot better, she really needed that nourishment right then. Of course she tried her best not to tear into them like the starved animal she felt like, but she still probably wasn’t very ladylike in how she got those first few bites in. Swallowing with a sigh she cants her head at him. “Ya know the area then? I— this is the first place I saw that looked promisin’.” Though obviously she’d not really been in much condition to go exploring the town before deciding which buildings to search. Shrugging softly at his last set of questions, she decided it was as good of a time as any to mentally assess her condition more fully. Casting a glance down herself, she then tentatively touched the aching spot on her head where she’d hit it, fingers pulling from her riot of red locks to show the tips were damp with an even darker red. But it wasn’t much. A minor cut and most likely a good sized contusion, nothing major, nothing that would have even required stitches in the past. “Lil bit, but I’ll take care of it later.” If they made it to the church he’d mentioned, and it was safe, there’d be plenty of time to clean up her head before she had to worry about any infection. And with the way things were, that was really one of most people’s major concerns, seeing as something small could easily turn into something life threatening if it wasn’t handled properly in a world with dwindling medical care items. After a few more bites of his generously offered food, she adjusts her bag, takes up her spear and gives him a more clear eyed look. “So which way was this church?” There wasn’t a whole lot of day light left, and she wanted to make sure she had a place to hold up that night that didn’t require her to tie herself in a tree again.

___________________________

He met her thanks with a simple nod and self-consciously averted his eyes. It shouldn’t feel like a huge sacrifice — and maybe, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t — but he knew as well as anyone that a bit of food in the belly could mean the difference between life and death. He knew how scarce good food is these days, how rare it is to find something that isn’t rotten or mouldy beyond recognition. And he knew what a risk it was for him to part with any resources, even something as small as a pack of peanuts, if he didn’t have to.

It was just…the right thing to do. Anyone with half a heart would have done the same thing. Right?

Her question earned a half-shrug. “More or less. Glanced at a map this morning, just to get a sense of this place.”

He frowned compulsively at the sight of blood smudged on her fingers, but clamped down on the urge to investigate. If she said it could wait, it could wait. They were exposed enough out there, and the commotion was likely to draw more walkers from the surrounding streets. If she could walk, they had to move now while there was time.

Turning, he motioned for her to fall in step and began heading down the street. “It’s not far. Couple blocks, maybe. You can already see the spire over there.” It was the tallest landmark in town, surrounded by old oak trees.

After a moment he glanced her way and found himself just…looking. It felt strange, albeit in a good way, to have living company again. There were still countless unknown variables about her, but she didn’t give off any troubling vibes. Not yet at least. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep at least one eye on her for the time being.

“So,” he finally said, after a stretch of silence. “Any friends or family waiting on you somewhere?”

_______________________________

▬♦M♦▬ Matching his pace Tess kept close, casting her eyes towards the church when he’d gestured for her to take a look. Honestly she hadn’t noticed it until now, and even if she had, Tess probably wouldn’t have even tried for it. It was her thinking that most people, when faced with the existential crisis of the dead rising, would have run to their Reverend for answers, and that anything a church might have to offer, would have been hit first by those of a god fearing sort. Still, if he thought it was worth a short, who was she to argue? Obviously he’d been doing a bit better on the food front than she was after all. Carrying her spear in the crook of her arm, she picked at the peanuts, savoring the sustenance in almost a reverent fashion as her feet fell in line with is own autonomously. For that moment she put her trust in him, relying on his senses to alert them to danger, because she was distracted with the fact that she had food for once in a long time. So she was completely oblivious to his eyes regarding her, however when he spoke, and she turned her attention towards Sawyer to find him looking her way, she flushed and tucked some loose red curls behind her ear with a shrug. There were two ways to get Tess to turn red and/or awkward, and that was to either flirt with her, or ask her about her family. Both would get similar reactions for entirely different reasons. So, she faltered a bit, trying to find the right way to broach the subject. “I uh— I seriously doubt it. Didn’t have much t'start with. An’ well, I lost the only person I coulda really called either a few months back.” There was always a chance that David was alive and looking for her, just as she was looking for him, but that chance seemed slimmer and slimmer every passing day. And now— well now the spark of hope had faded beyond recognition, and more often than not when she thought of him, she’d started to allow herself to mourn his loss, instead of hold out hope for him to be alive still. “Why– do you?”

__________________________________

Sawyer only belatedly realized that he had been staring a little. A half-forgotten but knee-jerk sense of propriety made him pull his eyes away, embarrassment stinging his cheeks for the first time since…he couldn’t even remember when.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention forward. He should have been prepared for the question to be directed back at him, but somehow he wasn’t. And the swift punch in the gut that followed was almost enough to put a hitch in his step. He managed to recover long enough to give a stiff shake of his head.

“No — ”

dark doe-eyes staring at him from across the fire, the faintest ghost of a smile

“ — not anymore.”

He’d been on his own long enough now that he learned how to block it out, so some extent. Push it to the back of his mind and slam it behind a door marked ‘Veata’, and never open it except on nights when he was feeling particularly brave or masochistic. But having someone near him, someone alive, a woman, close enough in age and pretty enough that the more reptilian parts of his brain couldn’t help speculating just a little…it brought everything screaming back into focus. Reminding him of what he lost.

The silence that followed was a great deal more grim than before, but he couldn’t think of any meaningful way to break it. Probably better to focus on getting to the church, anyway. Talking was a distraction, and there was no telling how many more dead were in the area.

It didn’t take long for the church to emerge. Nestled in the heart of a tangle of oak trees, it looked somewhat out of place on the otherwise concrete main street, but no different from any other he’d passed in a dozen other towns.

“Looks clean,” Sawyer noted gruffly, pausing at the edge of the trees to take in their surroundings. “No broken windows. Nothing boarded up.” _No bullet holes. No blood or guts smeared anywhere.

Still. No need for indiscretion. “I’m gonna circle around, see if I can find any movement. Maybe you could go around the other way and meet me at the back entrance.” ________________________________________________

▬♦M♦▬

Despite the fact that she was quite distracted with putting some food on her aching stomach, Tess didn’t miss the way he faulted when she asked the same thing of him. “Oh–” It was her only response. What was one to say to someone who’d lost everyone anyway? I know how you feel? No— everyone’s experience was different. Some, in this day and age, much more horrifying than another’s. So she remained silent, letting the sounds around them fill the gnawing gap between them as they worked their way towards the church. It was best to stay focused on their surroundings anyway. Still she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d have caught in his eyes just then if she’d have been able to see them. Had that hazel she’d noted clouded over with shadows when he spoke that simple ‘no’? Possibly. Nowadays it felt like everyone must be haunted in some way. Surely there wasn’t a soul alive who’d not lost someone they hoped to never have to live without. Once the church came better in view though she let such thoughts slide away, absorbing the appearance of the place; like an oasis it seemed, almost unscathed by the world around it. A blessing— if she believed in those kind of things anymore. “Sounds good.” Tess finished the nuts and nodded as she took a ready grip upon her spear. Within moments she was making her way around towards the back, gaze sweeping the area, ears alert. She found what was left of a corpse, barely ‘alive’ and unable to even groan at her as it clawed her way. It was nothing to slip the tip of her weapon into where it’s eye had once been and push til it stopped twitching. However now she was a bit concerned they’d be others they’d not hear, but could still pose a danger. A slow weak danger, but one none the less. Wiping the gore that clung to the wood on the grass, she quickly made her way around back.

#pretty sure I copy and pasted these in the right order- I didn't re-read to check :/#and I didn't edit even though the italics and bolds didn't care over.I figured you'd get the sense of when words were stressed regardless #anarchywithin

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