Strange

Strange is my middle name. But that's okay. Maybe it's for the best. Because as far as I'm aware, being strange has helped me survive. Welcome to the world of the dead, who roam the blood painted streets. Those freaks have taken from me. Taken everything. And they have tried to take me. I don't think so.

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2. Mask

Carl's pov

My dad raises an eyebrow. Walkers begin to move towards 'The Pack'. Why the Hell do they call themselves that? Just because? It's stupid if you ask me. 

"What's your name?" my dad quickly asks, directing the question towards the leader. "They call me "Owner" because-" the leader stops and whistles. Two dogs, huskeys perhaps, come running to her from the woods. "But" Owner continues, petting their heads, "You can call me Corey." 

Corey's pov

I reached to my belt and the man inside the gate held his gun my way. I slowly opened my hands and spoke. "I'm just turning of the voice changer." I say calmly. He nods, keeping his gun pointed my way. I look to my back, where the box is. I switch it off, and turn back to the man. I swallow, "See?"  I ask. The man nods, lowering his weapon. "That's a nice pistol. What is it? A Colt Python?" I ask.

"Yeah." he seems shocked. "Come to the gates, the Walkers are getting close to you." he says slowly. I look over to the gate and put up my index and middle finger, shaking them from the sky to the gates twice. My team follows behind me and we walk through the small portion of field that was between us and the gate. They have a rope and pulley system that opens the large, rusted, metal gates. We rush in and they close the gates. "I'm Rick by the way." the man says. I nod. 

He leads us to the prison, and stops. He looks dead at me. "Could you take off the mask?" he asked.

I look to my team. "I don't think I want to." I respond.

"Well I don't think I want my son to be around people he doesn't know, let alone, can't even see." he slightly chuckles, motioning to a boy I hadn't noticed. He was probably my age. His blue eyes seemed to glow like lanterns in the sunlight. They were like a reflection of my own. I narrowed my eyes at Rick. 

I peeled of my mask, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. It was a mouse brown. I lifted my head, looking Rick in the eye, stand straight, my shoulders broad and my hands clutched. He smiled a little. "Thanks." he said, leading us inside. "Your cells will be small." That was expected. I turn back to my Pack. They nod, with smiles. Not all of them have seen me with my mask off till now. I smile, resting my gun over my shoulder. I walk into a large room, cells lining the walls. "That whole wall has open cells. A couple of you may have to share. I let everyone get into their cells, walking to each of them. Bailey, and Mya were sisters and shared a cell. Then Fred. Then Otto. Then Thomas. And Jackie. And Sarah. And Daniel. Then there's Ari. And Trish. And Zoe. And Jack. And Samuel. And Noah. 

I had walked by each of their cells, Introducing them to Rick. His son had been standing near, his arms crossed, his feet planted, and his hat leaned forward a bit. Rick smiled, leaving us. I had gotten my cell, which was closest to the rest of the cells, and also slightly bigger than the rest of my groups' cells. I threw my bag into the hard bed. I softly placed my mask on a small table. Then peeled off all of the gear I had on. All of our group had worn the same stuff. I took of the baggy pants that was lined with pockets to place our explosives in. Then our black tshirts. Our bullet proof vests. Then our fire and water proof long sleeved shirts and pants. We had worn steel toe combat boots, and industrial socks. We even wore black race car gloves. We wanted to survive. And it has helped us. Even though we sweat a lot. 

I stacked all of the clothes and pulled out a white tank top and blue jean shorts out of my bag. I slipped it on and placed my socks and shoes back on. I strapped my belt back on, that held a dagger, a pistol, and a grenade. I reached into my bag again and pulled out a small metal box. I had grabbed it a while back, noting it was fire proof, and I knew it would be safer to place our explosives in there. I walked to each of my peoples' cells, and instructed them to place their grenades and other explosives inside. I had collected them all, and placed the box in the corner of my room. I trekked outside, my group following. I never told them to, they just did. I had to tell my dogs to follow though. We went out into the sun again. I glanced around, grabbing the collars of my dogs, leading them to a group of the other kids that lived at this prison. I had wondered what they thought of all of this. Or of us. 

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