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.


1. Out In the Open

The plant life surrounded me and I heard a noise not far off. I called my group to come forward. They lined up, squating, their guns ready to fire. I squinted my eyes against the light sun rays that softly kissed my skin. I held i finger to my mouth signalling for silence. I reached up to the tree branch above me and lifted my self up. I clined softly, pulling my way through the shaky branches. Some people were yelling, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

I reached a spot that I could look out. There was what seemed to be a prison, with gates surrounding the building. My fingers clutched around the tree branch above me as i leaned forward, at the edge, almost falling off. A tank along with a small army of people stood outside of the gates. The people inside of the gates seemed to be persuading them to make an agreement for something. The man with the tank seemed threatening. I knew he was up to no good.

I may be up to bad things sometimes, but not killing people. Not destroying families. Because I knew how it felt to loose a family. To loose loved ones. Friends. Pets. I softly climbed down. And whispered. "Okay, spread out a little. I know we prefer not to kill others, but I can tell if we don't, it will be worse than it has to. We need to take the people with the tank out. Got it?" I announce the plan.

They all nod. I send them off in pairs since there aren't many of us. I go on my own, pulling my mask over my face. 


Carl's pov

The Governor was back. Threatening us to leave the prison, or he would gun us all down. My dad was stupid. Trying to get him to live with us. Pft. As if that would work. I had my gun ready to fire. I saw movement in the trees, but didn't say anything. It couldn't be any worse than The Governor.

My dad doesn't understand. He will not comprimise. He is crazy. Insane. He is evil.

After abut ten minutes intense conversation between my father and The Governor, we heard a wolf howl. We swung our heads, trying to find the location, and The Governor's group seamed untouched. Until one of them fell. The Governor squinted his eyes and raised his gun to my dad. Then he fell.

It was over so quick. They all had dropped to the tall grass beneath them. 

I saw a figure dress in all black, even the face. They came out into the open. There was another wolf howl. I had realized it was that person that had howled the first time too. About ten other people basically crawled out from the woods. 

They were allowing themselves to be vulnerable out in the open. In the feild. Why? Why did they trust us. They all gathered into a group and trekked to our gate as the leader, I assume, threw a grenade in the tank for saftey precautions. It blew up and they stared at us, all of them dressed the same way. Except one. Who wore a mask. A black mask, that had a skull printed on it. They each had a machine gun and carried belts of bullets over their shoulders. They each had a bag. It was small. I assume  they each had food inside. They looked healthy, just dirty. 

"Who the Hell are you?" My dad said loud enough for them to hear.

They stood, motionless, silent, and dangerously armed. My dad repeated the question.

The leader spoke up. "The Pack" he/she said with a voice that was an obvious disguise. 

What did they want?


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