She walked.

For hours, The girl walked. Behind her, there was crackling. A burning building. The prison.

The prison was gone. Everyone was gone, everything. A perpetual feeling of dread and rage and sadness washed over her, and It was like she was back to who she was before she had found them. There was a raspy moan to her left, and she grabbed a knife from the endless on her belt, throwing it at the walker. It dropped to the ground, and she retrieved the knife from its forehead.

Shooting pain ran up her leg, and she was reminded of the wound in her calf. she had been shot at, but only grazed by a bullet. Still, it was a deep gash. She brought her hand to the back of her calf, examining it. It was stained with warm dark blood, and she stood up, wincing.

The girl realized she had to get out of there, and so she walked.

For hours, she walked.

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