Don't Feed Me, I Will Come Back

five

  She backtracked, quickly ducking into the supply closet and tossing her banana peel on the shelf behind her as she slunk deeper into the darkness. She quietly brushed her fingers over the shelf, searching for anything that could dislodge an eye or slice a vein, but everything she could reach was useless. She didn't even know why she was searching for a weapon, but wrapping a white-knuckled fist around a can of beans relieved some of the pressure in her hands as she listened.

Two pairs of footsteps scuffled by, and she pressed herself further into the shadows. "Gonna hit Oceanside tomorrow, see if their offering is bigger than last week," one murmured. "You in?"

They kept walking, and the responding voice had faded by the time it answered. Zeppelin clenched her fist around the can once more before she gently set it back down. When she slipped over to the door and peeked around the threshold, they were gone. She didn't know where Oceanside was, and she didn't even really know where the hell she was, but something about the man's tone had every hair on her neck standing to attention.

She turned right back down the corridor, following the shadowed wall that led to a door marked EXIT. It seemed Negan was right after all. There was a whole world she didn't know about.

  Since the day everything turned to shit, it had been her and Benji. The man she had passed in the woods, Daryl, had seemed harmless. Then there were the Claimers, who were anything but harmless. And the stranger who killed one of their own behind the veil of a bathroom door. But entire communities still existed, and this one seemed to thrive. What of the others?

She suddenly couldn't breathe through the thick air settling into her lungs, and she shoved through the door leading her to the sunshine with more force than she meant to use. The door slammed back against the painted brick, ringing in her ears as she jumped to avoid the rebound swing. She sucked in a deep breath, hard enough to make her lungs hurt, and put her hands on her knees as she surveyed the lot.

A few motorcycles were parked to her right, though after a quick investigation, they no longer interested her when she noticed none had any keys. On her left were large shipping containers scattered around the asphalt that led to the back side of the warehouse. And in front of her, far in the distance, a chain link fence separated her from an endless stretch of forest.

"The woods go on for miles," a voice called out.

Zeppelin flinched, whirling to face it and reaching for her empty holster. She felt the ghost of her weapon and instead dug her nails into her palms until she felt a sting there. Leaning on a second-story balcony above her was a kid, probably sixteen or so, who looked like the epitome of a golden retriever in a boy's body.

He had a mop of golden, shaggy hair that hung over his ears, a broad, bright smile, and large eyes crinkled with laugh lines even at such a young age. He had a rifle strapped to his back, though he leaned his elbows on the railing as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Looks to be that way," Zeppelin said, holding a hand over her eyes to shade them from the growing morning sun. "You on watch up there, or do you always hang out on balconies alone at six am?"

  He grinned, ducking his head as he nodded. "Yep, the safety of you and everyone on this side is in my capable hands." Watchpoint at the east exit. She noted it, filed it away.

  She turned back to the fence, squinting her eyes as if she could somehow see right through the blanket of trees. There wasn't even a break in the green that would lead to a path. The kid observed her as she observed the woods, and she looked back to find him fiddling with his rifle like he hadn't been watching her at all.