Chapter 4: The Black Death
Grace Peters
Sometimes people put up walls. Not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to knock them down. Grace had been guilty of doing this sometimes. It always either destroyed her relationships or put cement between the cracks. It irritated her when she built a wall and she wasn't standing in the rubble.
The man with the beard put his handgun back into its holster on his belt. "You gotta keep quiet." He told her. "You keep yelling like you were and you'll never survive out here."
"Wha-what do you mean, survive?" Grace asked the man, still shaken up from her friend lying dead on the ground. "Me and my friend... we were just driving down to the city..."
"No." He stated plainly. He pointed to the Ashley on the ground. Grace would be sad right now, but she was still so shaken up and confused that she didn't quite understand what was going on just yet. "I just came from there. You see that thing? There are hundreds, maybe thousands... and their numbers are growing by the minute."
He turned and began to down the hill towards the pickup at the bottom. Grace followed him closely behind. "Who are you calling thing? Her name is Ashley! She's my friend!"
"She was your friend." He corrected her with a long sigh. Grace felt the first of many tears begin to slide down her cheek. She looked back up to the top of the hill where Ashley lay dead. She still couldn't believe it had happened to her...There was a deep pit in her heart where her friend used to be...one that was never going to fill itself... "Ashley...This isn't real...I don't want it to be real..."
He refused to look her in the tearful eyes when he talked to her. "The important thing is to not let them get to you. They take a bite out of you and it's all over. You can call them whatever you like. A few of the people I knew have taken to calling them lurkers, biters, geeks, walkers... However, they're all dead now, so I'm not sure why that matters."
"Oh..." Grace wanted to pat the man on the shoulder, and attempt to comfort her, but instead she collapsed on the ground below her. She couldn't bear the pain of losing her best friend. She felt as though she couldn't bear anything anymore...
"I'm sorry." He put his hand on hers and helped her back up onto her feet. "They weren't my friends. I just knew them. I don't have any friends." He turned and looked her in they eyes. They were a shade of calming ocean blue. Grace could see a great pain in those eyes masked by his rugged appearance. She only assumed that same pain could be seen in her own. He sighed and paused a moment before letting go of her hand.
He began to walk towards the car and she ran to catch up with him, regaining the strength to act for herself. "You know, you never did tell me your name. Mine is Grace Peters." She told him as she wiped a few tears from her eye, wiping them on her pants.
"Name's Noah Sinclair." He said roughly. "Don't know my middle name, and don't need to. I lived on the street since I was young. I'm not sure I ever had parents. As I grew older, I hopped homes every now and then. The people who took me in always ended up kicking me out later. Tried to get jobs here and there, but that's pretty hard to do when you don't got a decent education. Since I was 18 I've been living out here in the forest. The city folk don't look too kindly on me, but I do okay. Travel down to the city every once in a while to get supplies and farming tools. How about yourself? Where do you come from?"
"I'm originally from a little town down the way, but I moved to Savannah for college." Grace began. "I suppose, in a way, I'm kind of like you. My parents died in a shootout when I was very young. I was raised by my godfather after that. I have to tell you though, he was a real piece of shit... I get jobs here and there, but they never seem to last."
