Both Eyes Open - Daryl Dixon (under editing)

Left Behind.

Buried in her makeshift camp along the edge of the woods, the girl woke with a start, sweat fresh on her forehead.

She had perfectly set her camp up far enough away from the groups camp so they couldn't see her. They may hear her, but she had no company to allow for her to chatter and draw unnecessary attention.

Roughly rubbing sleep from her eyes she quickly rolled up her blanket and shrugged her shirt and big jacket on her shoulders, not bothering to zip it up given the heat of the day. Tensing as she went, she slowly unzipped her tent, and peeked outside, making sure the coast was clear, before she stepped outside to the barren woods, taking a deep breath, and a drink of water from the bottle in her pocket.

She looked back at her tent, inside which contained all her possessions, merely a small rucksack of a couple clean changes of clothes, and necessary meds and bandages and protein bars. Beside it was her bow and arrows, and a medium sized duffle bag that carried all her weapons; a long range rifle with a working scope, a shot gun, two hand guns, three knifes and a couple half boxes of bullets.

She always had her stuff packed away during the day in case she needed a quick escape, and with that in mind she began dissembling the tent, packing it into a small little square shape, and fixing it onto the top of her bag of clothes, propping both of her bags up against a tree.

Picking up her arrows and slinging them onto her bag, she tucked a knife into her boot, and lodged an arrow into position, before edging her way toward the unusually quiet group of strangers.

As she neared the edge of their camp, before walking into the strings decorated with empty tin cans for cover, she stopped and observed the scene before her curiously.

"We're, uh... We're... we're not going." One man said to the quiet group, all standing in a circle, beside their vehicles, which where filled with gear and equipment.

She frowned and moved closer down the edge of the forest, making sure to keep her cover, and occasionally checking over her shoulder for any diseased, wary of the groups recent run in with a small herd. She was fortunate enough to be far enough away from the group, with no fire or scent to draw attention to herself, so she was untouched.

A man, whom she had learnt over time went by 'Shane' was saying, "You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back."

"We'll take the chance." The man replied, "I got to do what's best for my family."

The new Sheriff frowned, his hands on his hips, "You sure?"

"We talked about it. We're sure."

"All right." Sheriff nodded. "Shane?" He said, looking at his friend.

He nodded unhappily, "Yeah, all right."

The two men turn and go to what looked like their mini armoury and lifted items for the man and his family. Sheriff handed him a gun and Shane handed him a box of ammo. The girl shuffled on her knees, moving more so she could see everyone in the group as they all started shuffling on their spots a little.

Shane looked at the man with mixed emotions of hope and uncertainty, "The box is half full."

At this she saw the redneck squirm irritably, obviously annoyed by the two men just giving away their weapon and ammo so carelessly it seemed.

Was it careless though? Would that be the difference between them surviving, and them getting torn apart? God only knew. If he was about long enough to care for this decaying world.

She watched uncomfortably as everyone began hugging and saying their goodbyes, a few tears being shed and well wishes being thrown about like the wind.