THICK SKULL , twd [ 1 ]

5. making friends

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A MONTH AND HALF AGO

THE INCESSANT GROWLING OF walkers is driving Sadie Finch mad. Tears stream down her face, mixing with the dirt from running from her attackers.

         She has no idea how long the world has been like this—too long. She knows that much.

          The world ended when she was at her best friend's house and away from her little sister. She was away from her Uncle Shane. But Sadie and her best friend, Rose, could only survive so long. Just two teenage girls hoping to wake up every morning. And now one of them won't. The girl hadn't even expected such a brutal death. Not at the moment.

           That's who Sadie is running away from, the men who plunged a knife into the throat of her best friend of 10 years; killing her like she was one of those things. Not a living girl. Some monster.

          Everyone that she comes into contact with has tried to kill her or take her stuff and run. There's no one good out there anymore. Rose and Sadie only had each other and now Sadie was supposed to be okay all alone? Doubtful.

            Koa is dead. Uncle Shane is dead. Everyone she's ever loved or known is dead, possibly walking the streets as a groaning corpse.

               Sadie has trapped herself in an old gas station and the walkers followed her. She's in the office, staring at the skeletal remains of an employee. She can see his work shirt that has the faded logo of the building she's in. Her breath hitches and she can't catch it. The room is dark. Moonlight provides no light and she's too scared to switch her light on. The walkers are outside. She can see them—hear them more so though.

             Can they see her? Is it even worth it at this point?

                  The only person she had left was murdered, gargled on her own blood mid conversation. They were talking about prom, all the high school things they'll never get to experience. Now Rose won't be able to experience fucking anything. Stupidly, Sadie had tried to somehow save her and now crimson coats her hands, drying on the skin of her knuckles.

              Sadie tries to muffle her cries. She can barely hear herself anyway over the walkers.

              There's a deep cut right on her forearm thanks to one of the men swiping at her and if she doesn't fix it, she'll surely bleed out. She hisses in pain as she holds an old tank top around the wound, trying to apply as much pressure as she can but Sadie feels weak. Her whole body is dizzy, like it's prepared to die and no longer fight.