A ballad of life and death

x

The fire crackles for a few more minutes before going out completely.

She sighs and decides that it's not worth wasting any more liquid from her lighter. She ran out of matches a couple of days ago, and right now, the capacity of lighting a fire is more important than everything else. She'll need to go on a supply run tomorrow, just in case.

For tonight though, she can go to sleep. She's safe in her arranged tent on the roof of a building, but she's placed harpoons all around her, for good measure. One can never be too safe those days. Plus hers is just another supply run, she will go back to her group in a couple of days, once she finds more matches, and, if some godly presence is assisting her from above, some food. Edible, preferably.

She looks around one more time, and finally allows herself to lay down in the sleeping bag. Sighing and rolling on her stomach, Nancy Wheeler falls asleep.

//o//

"Hey, are you alive?"

Something touches her shoulder softly and tickles the exposed skin of her neck.

Nancy jolts to her feet before she has even awakened properly. Her hands find the shotgun in a second, and take the safety index pressed on the trigger, ready to shoot.

"Whoa, hey! Put that down, I'm unarmed!"

Through the viewfinder of the shotgun, Nancy sees the figure in front of her. It's a girl, she realized, dressed in a black denim jacket and suspenders, holding her hands up in the air. Next to her, there's a branch that's just been dropped on the ground. That was probably what tickled Nancy.

"Arms on the ground," Nancy barks, adjusting the shotgun over her shoulder, refusing to let the girl out of her viewfinder. "I know you have some. You must. On the ground, now. Or I'll shoot you."

"Alright, alright," the other mutters, with a rasp in her voice. Moving slowly she takes a knife out of her boots, places it on the ground next to the branch, and then removes a small bottle from her pockets, reserving it the same treatment.

Nancy nods at the bottle. "What's that?"

"Pepper spray," she admits in defeat. "Better than nothing. Now, will you please put down that gun? There are enough dead around already. I'd rather not join them if you pull the trigger by mistake—"

"I assure you that if and when I pull the trigger, it won't be a mistake," Nancy growls, but she's starting to relax. This girl clearly cannot be that much older than her. Twenty or so. Her face is smudged with dirt, same as her hair, which is chopped just below her jaw. The girl, whoever she is, has the brightest eyes Nancy has ever seen. Blue, like the ocean.

"So, um—"

"What's your name?" Nancy inquires immediately. "Answer honestly."

"How will you know if I'm lying?"

Nancy stiffens, irritated by the girl. "Just answer the question."

The girl sighs and holds out a hand, a sudden movement that has Nancy embracing the shotgun even tighter. "Whoa, easy there, I was just going for a handshake. I'm Robin, by the way. Buckley."

It doesn't ring any bells, so Nancy keeps the shotgun steady. "What are you doing in Hawkins?"

"Uh, I live here? Well, I used to, at least, before all this shit happened. Went to Hawkins High till I graduated two years ago. I work at Family Video, maybe we've met without even knowing it, I don't know, did you go there often?"

Confused and vaguely annoyed by the incessant flow of words, decides that the girl – Robin Buckley – isn't a menace. She secures the shotgun and lowers the weapon, letting it hang around her shoulders from its strap. "Do you have a group?"