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"NATALIA, STOP!"
Archie's sharp hiss was followed by him snatching onto her arm, stopping the frantic woman's hand from grasping the cold metal of the pistol in her bag. Her raven eyes narrowed, glaring daggers while her lips formed a growl, "Why?"
Her gaze darted back up, towards the gathering of ruthless survivors and their hands on their weapons, weapons she was sure they would stab into her and Archie's skulls. They wouldn't die, not like this. Their lives would not be so easily ripped from their scarred and bloody grasp as though they were pigs for slaughter. Natalia would fight, even in a losing battle.
"Nat, look," the boy pleaded, the pair slowly rising to an upright stance as his blood-stained fingers were still locked around her arm. He reached out a delicate finger, pointing towards the beaten RV an old man was perched on, looking through the binoculars in his hands.
Natalia trailed her gaze through the group, Archie's breath hot on her ear as he whispered, "They have kids with them, Nat."
Sure enough, there they were. A young boy shielded by a woman with a waterfall of dark brown hair, and a little girl by his side, she too guarded by her mother. Natalia squinted trying to make out their features, the blinding sun still beating down on the pair and blinding them. But through the harsh light, she could make out the fear in the children's eyes.
She released her grip of the bag, leaving it at her feet as the man approached them in a quick trot, a sheriff's hat casting shadows on his angular face. His hand was still on his belt, resting atop the silver revolver that looked like hell itself to the girl. Nat tried to swallow the lump in her throat, her chest on fire from fear. The more she tried to gulp down her terror, the bigger it grew.
Her mind raced through realities, possibilities of her and Archie being shot dead, left atop the hot pavement to rot and decay before the things came. They would be picked apart by the living dead, organs devoured while their knawed bones became dust.
Her companion's voice tore her from imagining their lifeless bodies, yet her veins still pounded with fear as her eyes snapped to him at his words, "Let me do the talking."
Archie put his hands in the air, raising the pair's "white flag" with a hesitant gesture of surrender. He took a couple of steps towards the approaching man, who stopped in his tracks a few paces away from the boy. His fingers still danced on the loaded gun, and his eyes were narrowed to slits like a cat.
"Hey, man," Archie began, trying to force his tone steady and calm in the fit of chaos, but Natalia could hear how his tongue shook, how his voice quivered and his right ring finger twitched, making the sun glisten on the ring he always wore ─ he was petrified.
