virago|c.g.|

ii

A metallic sound sliced through the silence of the air, pulling Clarissa Dean away from her memory as the blade of her sword slipped into the soft flesh covering the decaying brain of an Infected. The body fell quickly and harshly to the ground, the girl not bothering to clean the blade as she fell against the strong neck of the horse she rode.

Ever since the Fall, a name she had produced to signify the untimely demise of her community, she had traveled with little to no company. The two people she had experienced the end of all she knew were lost to her just as quick as Solaris had become lost to her. All she had now, it seemed, was the horse she rode upon. Montu, the horse she obtained while within Solaris, had been named so by her after the Egyptian god of war, the name fitting as he soon became the horse she rode wherever she was stationed during fights. He was a pale steed covered in many scars and the blood of Infected from their travels, his dark eyes averted to the asphalt as they rode. He was the only comfort she found as they treaded unfamiliar roads, his trotting a rhythmic lullaby that, along with blood loss, pulled her to unconsciousness from time to time.

Clarissa looked down, moving her hand from where it rested upon her abdomen. As she pulled away, she saw the crimson color that heavily coated not only the skin of her hand but most of the shirt she wore. As her head pounded, her eyes going in and out of focus on the bloodied hole in her side that was covered in the thin bandages she had found, she held onto the reigns of her horse to steady herself as she replaced her hand on the wound. She almost wanted to laugh as she thought of her sister's voice, teaching her the basic first aid. Melanie, her sister, had told her it was because every soldier should know how to fix themselves up. Clarissa knew better, knowing it was because her elder sister had worried greatly about her.

Oh how she wished Melanie was there to fuss over her.

That thought faded as quick as it had come as Clarissa's drooping eyes fell upon the image of tall metal walls. She believed herself to be dreaming, having not seen such an image since she had seen her community in shambles. She was sure the blood loss was finally getting to her, making her hallucinate that she could actually be in front of walls other than her own or that of her allies. However, the belief of it being a hallucination wavered as a voice broke through the silence of the end of the world. "Hey! There's a girl on a horse at the main gate!" Looking up, her eyes lazily glancing towards a type of watch tower. She saw a body retreat only for it to come back, aiming a gun at her. Her eyes moved away from the woman before falling upon the gate before her, which began to slowly open.

Clarissa knew she must have been a sight to see, with her matted and greasy hair, although dark turned darker where it mixed with blood, either her own or Infected. Her lips were cracked with her lack of water, small scabs forming as few cracks had been so bad she bled. Her hands and arms, and even the skin exposed from her half torn shirt were dark with either blood or dirt from her struggles. Perhaps more unnatural was the images painted along her skin, the black less noticeable from afar against her dark skin. Along the torn neck of her shirt, her collarbone was exposed to reveal a cluster of tattoos being displayed, the silhouettes of three birds flying. The other exposed tattoo covered most of her forearm. From afar, it looked like incoherent lines but, up close, the others could see two inked plants wrapped around her forearm.

Once the gate fully opened, a woman made her way to the bloodied girl the quickest. Clarissa noted the bright hue of her hair, a type of orange close to that of a blaze that was cut close to her shoulders. She was an older woman, her eyes stern and jaw set as she looked wary of the young girl, which Clarissa knew she had every right to be. As the woman approached cautiously, her eyes scanned the girl, curious as to where she came from."We're going to get you some help, okay? But I need to know your name—" the woman could not continue as Clarissa's voice cut her off. "I don't need help. I just— I need to know if you've gotten anyone new in the community." Clarissa's eyes were filled with hope, urging the woman to nod her head softly. "Yes, but that hardly matters. You'll die if you don't get help—" Clarissa cut her off once again with a shake of her head. She could only pay attention to the words the woman had spoken, about new members. Maybe she had been guided to a community that some of her people had stumbled upon if they had been able to flee.