"whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
➳ Please note I do not at all take credit away from Syfy for the creation of this series, I only take credit for the main character and her involvement with the plot :)
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➳"If you keep looking like you're going to kill Murphy, I'll take your rifle away."
(Y/n) had stopped on the trail to kneel down and check out some of the plants, to see if there were any she could recognize. So far, only a few wild roses here and there.
"That's fine," Tommy shrugged "I'd just kill him with my bare hands instead."
The girl looked at him seriously.
"You really are impossible, you know that?" She scoffed, before getting back to her feet and picking up her pace, to put some distance between the two of them.
As much as she understood his pain and wished for it to go away, she also knew that killing Murphy wouldn't make Tommy happier.
It would kill him.
"Everything okay back there?" Vasquez glanced at her from the corner of his eye as she caught up to the rest of the group.
"If by 'okay' you mean 'Murphy's still alive'," she muttered "then yes. Everything's peachy."
"Works for me," the man shrugged.
They continued forward in a heavy silence as the dense forestry gave way to a view of the Mississippi River.
"Well, the Mississippi sure ain't as mighty as it used to be," Doc said sadly, gazing out at the landscape.
Docked near the shore, was a boat. And on that boat, a group of zombie passengers apparently headed out to enjoy the beautiful weather.
According to Warren, however, the only thing they would be enjoying today was a good old cup of mercy.
"We can move faster on the river than on foot," Warren pointed out "we can take this south to Memphis and then head west."
"Can't we find another one?" Doc whined, while (y/n) reached into her left boot - moving her pants to the side to access it - to pull out two throwing knives.
"No," Warren whispered, as (y/n) pulled her right arm back and heaved it forward quickly, flicking the knife from out of her grasp and into the neck of one of the Zs.
She frowned.
(y/n) hardly ever missed, especially not with her throwing knives. She hadn't missed in... God, how long had it been?
Regardless of her slip-up, the boat was soon cleared of the unwelcome passengers, and another unwelcome guest presented himself.
The man cowered beneath a tarp, and when Warren pulled the fabric back, he was greeted with Addy holding her Z Whacker threateningly above him.
"Whoa, whoa, easy," he cried, holding out his defenseless hands "i don't want any trouble."
