Chapter 13 - Killer

23.5K 897 231
                                    

The two men rolled around on the ground, Shane struggling to keep a hold of the gun, as Rick tugged it away from him.

In more of a hurry now, I lifted the blade so I could feel it press against the rope attaching my feet. Thank God for Daryl's serrated hunting knife. I gently lifted the handle up and down nervously, careful not to drop it, or to cut myself.

More thuds.

I began to tear up, the pressure becoming too much. I kept the blade going up and down, attempting to keep it at exactly the same point at all times.

"You're not doing this!" Rick shouted from behind the fire truck. "You don't get to make these calls anymore."

I continued to lift the blade up and down, one of the four ropes on what felt to be a thread.

"I won't let you," Rick's voice growled.

Rick stepped from behind the truck from the opposite side he went in, looking to me. I dropped the knife in a moment of panic, making Randall groan audibly.

With an almighty yell, Shane emerged from behind the truck too, a wrench in hand. He flung the long metal thing at Rick, who jumped down onto a pile of rubbish bags to avoid it. The sound of a shattering window was the only thing to be heard above Rick's grunt as he landed on his back.

For a moment, I was frozen in shock. Shane breathed heavily from beside the truck, his breaths could be heard from where we were.

The two men glared at each other, Rick looking slightly hurt for a second, before quickly resolving to become what looked to be the angriest I'd seen him.

From where I was kneeling, I couldn't see the greyish hand reaching from the window, so I was quite confused when the two men stared up at the glass in horror.

And then, I did see it.

A bald man climbed from the window, his skin a ghastly purple colour. He rolled from the orange dumpster beside Rick's leg, reminding me slightly of when Randall fell and doomed us both.

Rick struggled with the roamer, who was pulling at the man's shoulders, attempting to get a bite of his neck.

I quickly grabbed for the knife again, pulling it into my grasp. I moved the blade up and down faster now, with more purpose.

"Hurry up!" Randall pressured me, still laying on his stomach.

There was another loud crash of glass from where Rick was. I half expected it to be Shane again, but he was standing beside the truck, wide-eyed. The roamer who had been trying to get at Rick first was now lying on the rubbish bags, blood trickling down his nose.

I scrunched my nose in disgust, as the horrifying smell hit my nostrils.

Roamers were now fighting to get out from the window, pressuring against the glass in a huge group. I couldn't see Rick.

Shane stumbled off behind the truck, as a particularly large group of roamers followed him.

I continued to cut up and down the thick rope, as Randall began whimpering. A particularly quick woman was walking towards us quickly.

With a final saw of the knife, I was freed.

"Amy!" Randall shouted, as the woman first laid her pale eyes on him. He was further away from me, closer to the fire truck. I was beside the school bus. "Amy, kill it!"

"I..." I paused, holding the knife in my tied hands.

I quickly jumped up, running towards Randall, the knife held tightly in my sweaty hand. The woman turned to me, her snarls becoming louder as blood pumped faster around my body.

Chasing Amy (Daryl Dixon/The Walking Dead)Where stories live. Discover now