The Trees

The world was broken.

Decimated by a ravaging infection, one that toppled civilisation and reduced everything we'd known to dust.

In a time that seemed utterly hopeless, mere survival being an unrelenting crusade, we found one another.

~

The clammy heat of the Georgia sun beamed overhead as I made my way toward the promise of moving water. I could almost hear it - the cool drink, burbling over the rocks beneath.

Breaking through the tall trees, I saw it. A babbling brook teasing with relief for my parched throat. Without hesitation, I ducked down over it, cupping the cold liquid in my hands and bringing it to my mouth repeatedly, until my immense thirst felt somewhat quenched.

I removed my heavy, black boots and worn-out socks, placing them beside me as I dipped my exhausted feet into the refreshing water, moaning with relief. If only the stream had been deep enough to immerse my whole body in, wash away the blood and grime that had collected amongst my skin and clothes.

I considered removing my khaki cargo pants and black vest to wash, to rid them of the evidence they were coated in, but decided it was futile. They would be covered in gross shit again before the day was out. It was inevitable, so I wasn't going to waste my time.

Sixty-three days. That's how long I'd been moving around Atlanta, fighting to stay alive. I hadn't intentionally counted the passing time. Rather, it was like a calendar in my head, subconsciously trying to keep a grip on the days that merged into one another.

Leaning back and resting my elbows on the bank, I swished my feet in the water, the feeling of the cool liquid moving between my toes almost orgasmic.

The sound of quiet hooves met my ears as a deer emerged from the dense underbrush on the other side of the stream. Like a shadow given form, its slender legs moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly.

Sunlight dappled its russet coat, highlighting the curve of its neck and the delicate power in its frame. For a moment, it stood utterly still, as if carved from the forest itself.

I pulled my Glock 22 from my waistband and pointed aim. The moment of beauty was over.

Sorry deer, I'm hungry.

I'd been surviving on scavenged snacks and small game for what felt like forever, the promise of fresh venison making my stomach growl.

I moved my finger toward the trigger before being distracted by another creature materializing from between the trees. This one in another form, a man, with startlingly blue eyes that were following the beast that proceeded him, his crossbow raised.

The aim of my handgun switched from the deer to the new arrival, my feet still covered by the cool water they were immersed in. He retaliated instantly, positioning the bolt of his crossbow directly at me.

For a moment, I forgot why I was holding my gun in the first place. This man looked like he'd fallen straight out of one of my more NSFW dreams. Tall, definitely more so than my 5'7" frame, wearing filth-covered jeans and what looked like a shirt with the arms torn off. His broad chest and bulging arms were hard not to drool over while his dishevelled, brown hair hung over his stoic face.

A face I'd very much like to sit on.

We stayed silent, eyes boring into one another in complete stillness. His didn't move from mine for a second, nor mine from his.

The deer began meandering, but the stranger and I were now focused only on each other, still maintaining intense eye contact as we glared at one another across the stream, weapons raised.

I wanted to use my voice, ask him who he was, but I'd forgotten how to speak. My thoughts clouded by the figure standing across from me.

Almost in sync, we broke our gaze and noticed the deer, the sustenance from which I so desperately craved, moving away from us.

I removed my feet from the water, scooping up my boots and socks as I stood, throwing my pack over my shoulder as I crossed the stream.

I wanted that deer.

Realization dawned on my new acquaintance, who scowled impressively at me while turning on his heel to follow the quickly escaping prey.

We moved after it silently, not daring to look at one another. There was only one deer, and we both wanted it. There was going to be a battle to lay claim to the lone animal, and like hell was I not going to win.

We followed eerily in sync with one another, mirroring the movements of our meal as it zipped through the trees, an opportunity presenting just as the beast was about to break the treeline. I swiftly raised my weapon, pulling the trigger and hurtling a bullet into the side of its head.

It fell instantly, hooves splaying across the floor as it lay defeated, dead atop the dry mud beneath. I moved to take my prize, salivating at the thought, before a rough, southern accent punctured the air.

"S'mine!" the man with the crossbow spat, also edging closer to the deer.

"I don't think so!" I snapped back at him, "My bullet took it down, so I think you'll find it's actually mine."

"Ya blind, woman!? S'my bolt stickin' outta it's forehead!"

I glanced over at the creature, noticing the arrow that was, in fact, protruding from it. Fuck. It fell as I shot it, so he must have fired at the exact same time.

"I saw it first, Buffy. Don't you take another step closer." I retorted, chuckling internally at my quick-witted nickname for him.

"Huh?" his face creased in confusion. Well, this man doesn't know Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so he's just gone down in my estimations. I rolled my eyes at him to show my distain. He wasn't going to know that I'd only said it because she was the one person I'd ever seen use a crossbow.

"S'my damn deer! Been trackin' it all day!" He continued.

I raised my weapon at him. I didn't want to shoot a man as drop-dead gorgeous as this. It seemed like a betrayal to woman-kind, but I would - if he thought he was going to take my lunch.

He raised his crossbow in return. We found ourselves back in the same staring contest we'd participated in back at the stream.

How did his eyes look like that!?

"How ya even gonna carry it!?" he tried to reason with me. "Where'd ya crawl out from!?"

I smiled, knowing that he was trying to avoid shooting me, before realising that, actually, balls, he was right. I hadn't thought about how I'd move the hefty creature once it was down. I didn't even have a camp as such, I'd been drifting around a lot, searching for food and water.

I had stuff in my pack to start a fire with, so I'd cook the whole deer and eat the lot right here in the woods if it meant I could piss this guy off further.

"Same way you were going to do it." I told him. "You'd have to drag it back to wherever you spawned from, too!"

"Nah. My camp's right there." he told me smugly.

Following his pointed finger, I looked beyond the fallen animal through the edge of the woods and saw a collection of cars and tents surrounding an ancient-looking RV. A pang of jealousy hit me. This guy had a whole community to help him find food. This deer was mine!

I was about to give him more attitude when a figure crashed into me, knocking me to the ground, its disgusting, yellow teeth chomping inches from my face. We'd been so busy arguing, focusing on each other that we'd not noticed a small group of biters approaching.

Sexy people are such a distraction.

I pulled out my knife, opting to save my ever-draining supply of bullets and leapt to my feet. Kicking the mutilated was-a-woman away from me before plunging my blade into her temple. Immediately, another came lunging toward me. I already had hold of my knife, so I took care of it easily, slashing at its face before driving my weapon straight through its forehead. I splattered myself with gore in the process, so it's a good job I hadn't bothered washing my clothes.

I looked over to crossbow man to see another two walkers dead at his feet. He was now inspecting the deer who'd started all this. His face thunderous.

"One of 'em took a chunk out of it." He growled, kicking a bleeding bite wound on the animal's side.

Dejected, I sat myself down, pulling on my socks and boots I'd taken off at the stream. I'd followed my stomach, barefoot as we'd tracked it, not wanting to stop to put them on in case Hunter Boy got the advantage on me.

"Damn walkers." He continued grumbling to himself.

Walkers? I'd not heard them called that yet. I think I like that better than 'biters'. I'm stealing it.

Just then, two men appeared at the treeline. I reached for my weapon, ready to defend myself, when I saw their expressions soften as they recognised the man in front of them.

"It's alright!" One of them called out to the group gathering behind them. "It's just Daryl."

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