HEART OF GLASS¹ ━━ the walking dead ✓

[ 032 ] a not-so warm welcome

Strangely enough, the man who appeared to be the appointed leader of the clan was dressed . . . casually. He barked orders at the men carrying rifles as he slowly meandered toward the broken helicopter, serpentine-like eyes pensively scrutinising his bleak surroundings. At first glance, Theo thought he looked like he could be a kind man, but what would he know ─ he could barely tell the difference between a duck and a swan.

Staying back and out of sight was a safer option. Michonne knew it, and Andrea knew it. The latter stifled a rattling cough with the back of her hand, trying to smother the noise against her flesh in order to remain as quiet as possible.

Fortunately enough, they were not heard nor were they seen.

Although, one of the armed men padded so close to their hiding position that Theo felt nausea simmer in his stomach, the metaphorical hackles on the back of his neck rising in forewarning of the what could possibly unfold as a result of their location being discovered.

The man loaded a bow ─ that, must be added, was in far better condition then Theo's, which left him to wonder if it was used as frequently as his own ─ and fired a sleek arrow into an encroaching walker's head. The grim sound of blood splattering against a cluster of fallen leaves was loud enough to make Andrea gag in a mixture of both disgust and fear.

Theo patted her back reassuringly, though he prayed deep down she would refrain from vomiting. He had never been very good at dealing with retching, nor coping with the look and the scent of excreted bodily fluids; someone in school emptied their stomach in the middle of the cafeteria once, and Theo followed suit rather quickly. He was sent home early as a result. His father hadn't been happy about the circumstances, but his father was never anything other than miserable, so it didn't make a difference.

Theo was incredibly thankful when Andrea inhaled sharply, cleared her throat, and managed to withhold her breakfast.

"We should sneak through the forest. Make sure they don't see us." the young boy suggested meekly. Michonne's nipped expression was an answer in itself; he shouldn't have bothered wasting his breath.

They weren't going anywhere.

Theo continued watching the strangers wander through the smoky wood. The man dressed casually ducked his head into the wreckage of the helicopter, obscuring his back from view. After a brief pause, he turned rapidly and called out to his comrades in an unprecedentedly calm manner, "Got a breather! Tim!"

His men raced across the clearing to assist their leader. Together, they pulled an unconscious soldier covered from head to toe in blood from the blackened debris. They carefully loaded him into one of the cars.

"He's saving them." Andrea said quietly. "We should show ourselves."

Michonne was adamant in her decision to stand their ground, "Not yet."

Listening to Michonne had always been of most paramount importance between the unlikely clan of survivors ─ reason being, she was always right about everything. She was their key to survival. And about this entire ordeal, as usual, Michonne was right. Staying put was the wisest decision.

Why? Well, apparently these men enjoyed stabbing corpses in the heads.

Theo blinked to ensure he wasn't hallucinating. Nope. He wasn't. He watched the causally-dressed man plunge a blade into the dead solider's head, pull it out, wipe the grime and blood and brain matter on his trousers, and proceed to go about his business as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever occurred.