"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„

forty, bloodhail

One prominent thing about walkers, was that they smelled particularly rotten. This was the solemn factor that officially woke her. For the first minute of her rise, her brain appeared foggy and unregistered - nothing around her seemed to set in yet, perhaps because she hadn't quite realised anything was off. Then, she took a breath in and shot up. She could recognise that stench anywhere.

She thought about calling out for Ellie, but that was too risky. They'd hear it, no doubt, and so she stayed as still as possible, knowing that this would not hold out for long.

A great number of undead had risen already, and she wasn't sure where any had came from. It just didn't make sense, sure - if someone had died then they would've turned, but how could one walker turn this many this fast? And surely, if it had bitten into multiple people, she or someone else would've heard the screams? there weren't many hilltop residents actually injured, either. Most of those resided in the infirmary.

Then, a gasp flew from her mouth before her hand could clamp it down. Carl was in the infirmary.

She had no weapons, not even a sharp object or a rock to throw, but they were clambering toward her with no remorse. She was more worried for the others, who were still asleep and so she frantically woke them, shaking their shoulders and startling them. They gasped and froze just as she had, and max, regrettably, screamed. This was especially bad as now they'd all heard it: fresh meat, right this way.

"Use your sleeping bags! block their faces!" jane ordered, not staying to watch them all scramble up as she pushed herself toward the nearest walker, fabric in hand. It moaned at her, mouth open, arms outreached. In the shadowy light, it looked utterly terrifying, but she drowned the thing in cloth before it could root any fear back at her.

It gargled and tried to defy her as it died, suffocating chaotically before Jane sent her fist continually through it's skull. Unfortunately it seemed that no other person had survived the outbreak, because only her and her girls were standing. That just meant that there would be much more (and much worse) to come.

She didn't pay much attention to the girls after that, as more and more began to file towards her. with her main weapon gone and no other to fulfil it's place, she felt utterly hopeless. She'd left her bow back down at the infirmary, where she hoped some survivor was using it to protect  Carl. She hoped to god Siddiq was okay, too - not just because he could save carl, but also because she'd grown fond of him these last few days.

The growling continued as she wrapped her fingers around another's neck, pushing it down to the floor and, when it hit, squeezed her boot into it's mouth and crushed it's face back into itself. With no time to celebrate, she battled with the next one, then the next, so on and so forth. When she'd started to lose her breath, she spun on the spot to see what the crowd was looking like, and wished she hadn't. Completely surrounded, she had no time to be scared as any one move could have her dead in a minute.

Hands came from everywhere, everyplace. One grabby pair flung towards her, hitting her and knocking her down. She fell to the floor, sending creaks of pain through her knees and forcing her back there - coveted by car headlights that shone iridescently through the fog. Negan was swinging the bat in-front of her, it was red, oh god it was Abraham's, it was his blood, and his skin-

Gunshots made her ears bleed as their ricocheted around the room. Her hands flew up to the hot blood and her eyes squeezed shut.

When she finally opened them, she felt a twinge of embarrassment at her own cowardliness. Someone touched her shoulder gently, and she grimaced, before shaking them off and standing up. This was another grave mistake as she felt enriched with dizzy-ness, and she stumbled a little, before catching herself on one of the wooden beams that grew from the floor to the roof.