Pincushion and Beanpole Take On The Walking Dead

Guts

Rachel and Emma were in the middle of cataloging their most recent haul when voices began coming closer. She rolled onto her knees and nudged the cabinet doors apart so she could see who was coming. From where they were seated behind the jewelry counter of a small accessories shop, they would stay hidden from those entering. At least until she knew if they could trust them. It sounded like there were several people, all involved in some kind of argument. Just in case, she reached up and pulled her Cubs hat from off her head that way even if they should happen to look over in their direction, her dark hair would surely blend into the ill lit room than the blue cap.

"You son of a bitch. We ought to kill you." A blonde woman threatened as she backed a uniformed man up against the glass jewelry cases. Her eyes darted around the room. Her hair flew wildly around her head, sticking to face as sweat poured down her.

A Hispanic man came up behind her. Although he was angry as well, Rachel could already tell he was more level headed than the blonde.

"Just chill out, Andrea. Back off."

Another woman stepped closer as well, joining the man in his attempt to calm the nervous, tearful woman. To Rachel, the woman just seemed like a ticking time bomb as she pressed the barrel of the gun harder into the man's forehead, certainly unbalanced at the very least.

"Come on, ease up."

She was surprised at how well dressed the woman was. Wearing slacks and a button down, the woman looked more like she was ready for a long day at the office rather than a scouting mission in a walker infested city. Rachel looked down at the faded flannel she wore over a tank top that was several sizes too big and tattered heavy duty windbreaker. Both had been scavenged over a dead body she'd come across and had seen better days. Then again, hadn't they all?

Andrea scoffed and shook her head. "Ease up? You're kidding me, right? We're dead because of this stupid asshole."

Emma started chatting with Gidget behind the counter, unable to hear the argument going on. Rachel nudged her and motioned for the girl to stay quiet. The girl nodded and turned back to her dog, not even interested in the arriving group. It looked like most, if not all of them had a gun. With just her bat, she'd be no match for them. She didn't trust them. Not yet at least.

"Andrea, I said back the hell off." He commanded as he took her by the shoulder. "Well, pull the trigger."

Andrea hesitated and more tears slipped down her cheeks before she finally pulled away from the man she held prisoner, throwing her hands up in the air. Rachel rolled her eyes, already fed up with the woman's theatrics.

"We're dead... All of us... Because of you."

Bitch. Throwing a pity party won't solve anything.

"I don't understand." The man looked around at the people that surrounded him, completely confused as to what was going on.

Didn't he know about the walkers? How could he not; it's all they'd seen for weeks.

The Hispanic man gripped the other by his shoulder and turned him around, pointing at the door being pounded on by walkers. "Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is? Surviving! You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing. Not shooting up the streets like it's the O.K. Corral."

"Every geek for miles around heard you popping off rounds." The Black man with a gap tooth and Kangol-looking hat interjected.

Geek?

"You just rang the dinner bell." Andrea muttered as the pounding increased.

"Get the picture now?" The dark haired man finished.