Chapter Text
It had been days since Wren had any food or water. There was the sound of a river somewhere, but at this point she thought she had imagined it. The only thing Wren was sure of was that the dead was walking.
After hours of stumbling in a random direction, Wren heard a voice. “Sofia!” She whipped her head around in the direction of the voice.
She ran as fast as she could (which wasn’t very fast) in the direction of the voice. ‘Maybe he can save me.’ Echoed in her head.
Her legs were trembly and tired, but she couldn’t care less. This person could save her.
Eventually, she heard another noise. A loud whinny followed by a loud series of crashes. She hurried in the direction, completely opposite of where she was going.
“Hello?” She whispered, trying not to attract any corpses. Wren looked around, desperate to hear another sound.
It took hours of searching when she saw something. A ravine with a figure trying to climb it. She slowed down, suddenly taken over by a new concern. ‘What if they’re hostile?’
After a lot of paranoid pacing, Wren realized she really didn’t have a choice. If this person decided to kill her, it’d be quicker than starving to death.
So, she decided to wait for them to get to the top. Wren takes a look around at the forest around her. Maybe I can sleep?
To not repeat her first night out here, she sleeps in the trees. That way, she’s out of the corpses reach. After finding a good enough tree with enough branches, she scales it quickly. Seeing as she could be waiting for hours, Wren dozes off while sitting on a thick branch.
~~~~~
By the time she wakes up, the sun has lowered significantly in the sky. A few minutes later, she hears talking. She can’t quite make out what’s being said. It sounds like someone having an argument with themselves.
Maybe the person is insane. Whatever, anything’s better than these woods, starving, and the corpses. Wren closes her eyes, for what she thinks is a few minutes.
“Yeah you better run!”
Wren jumps and falls out of the tree in surprise. She ignores the pain flaring up in her back and her throbbing head and faces the man. Seeing him up close, she’s starting to think that this isn’t such a good idea.
The man has blood and dirt caked into his beard, a crossbow, bloody shirt with a hole in it, and a necklace of corpse ears. Her stomach drops, barely hearing what the man was yelling at her.
“I said, who are ya?” The man takes a softer tone, not that Wren noticed. She hesitates, trying to will her legs to move.
“My names Wren, sir. I was hopin’ you could help me.” She looks him up and down. “Don’t think that’s such a good idea, actually.” The man’s hard stare softens.
“Got separated from your group?” He asks. Wren slowly shook her head.
“Don’t have a group. I’ve been alone for a while.” The man’s gaze didn’t waver, but it looked . . . Wren didn’t know the right word. Sympathetic? Realization? Kindness? Hmm, maybe not the last one.
“I’m lookin for a little girl. Seen her?” He asked again, gaining some urgency. Wren shook her head again. This man was scaring her, but her legs still wouldn’t move.
“No sir. You’re the first human I’ve seen in weeks. Seen plenty of corpses, no humans.” Wren makes her most pleading face.
“Got bit?” The man scans her up and down for marks, which she really didn’t like. Wren shakes her head, feeling paranoia set in.
“Have place to stay?” He asks. Wren shakes her head again, feeling her headache worsen as she does.
He hesitates for a second. “Wanna stay at my place? It’s crowded, but you look like you could use food.” Relief courses through her. She wrapped her trembling arms around him, suddenly not caring how bloody and dirty he is. It’s not like she’s any better.
“Thank you sir, thank you.” Wren grinned. He gently pushes her off.
“No more of this ‘sir’ shit, you got that?” He ordered. She nods, stopping because of her headache.
“Long walk back to the farm,” He says over his shoulder as he walks away. She hurries to catch up. ‘Farm?’ She thought hopefully.
“What should I call ya then?” Wren asks. The man loads his crossbow and looks around, probably looking for corpses.
“Daryl,” Wren falls into step with him, not caring how tired her legs are or how bad her headache is. Wren’s going to be safe now. She knows it.
~~~
They were walking for who knows how long. It felt like hours. Daryl had to slow down so she could catch up a few times. They didn’t speak for almost the entire time.
Eventually he breaks the silence. “We’ll be at the farm soon. Be ready,” Wren nods, too tired, weak, and thirsty to speak.
“There’ll be others there. They’ll care for ya.” He said. Wren nods again.
Soon, they stumble through the tree line. The bright sun blinds both of them. Not too long later, four people are running towards them. For some reason, one doesn’t have a shirt on.
“Here’s the welcoming committee,” Daryl mumbles sarcastically. When they meet with them, a curly haired man points a gun at Daryl’s head.
Behind him, a man said, “Is that Daryl?”
Next to him, another man replied, “Who’s the kid?”
“That’s the third time you’ve pointed that thing at my head, you gonna pull the trigger or not?” Daryl challenged. The curly haired man drops his gun, but shifts his focus to me.
“Who’s that?” The curly-haired man waves his gun in my direction. Wren resists the urge to run in back into the woods.
“Wren. I found her.” He said that like it settled all things. The curly haired man drops his gun. A few people looked relieved, the others looked exasperated.
Not even a second later a gunshot goes off. Wren barely has time to see Daryl collapse before feeling pain explode in her head. A moment later, she blacked out.