Safe Place // TMR|TWD

1 | The Past

My eyes shot open at the sound of pounding.
My vision starts to clear before focusing on a zombie just outside the car window. Out of all the abandoned cars parked on the highway, it had to choose mine. Probably because there was a sleeping human that it wants to sink it's rotten teeth into. I pull the car seat back up from its reclined position.

I look at the face of the next victim I'll be taking. This one was just as ugly and rotten as the others. I absolutely hated the sounds they make. So waking up to its groaning and growling made me even more upset.
I rolled down the window slowly with my revolver in the other hand. Before the zombie could fit it's arm through the opening and grab me, I shoot it right in the head, causing it to drop to the ground backwards.

I rub the sleep away from my eyes and grab my machete and other gun. I open the door with much effort, since the zombie I just killed blocked the way.
The gunshot garnered the attention of other nearby zombies who were limping they're way over to me. Time to get a move on again.
I put away my revolver and take out my machete. With a sigh, I start my trudge down the highway, killing zombies that got too close.

It was 2 years into the post-apocalypse, and I was doing fine. Believe it or not, I was thriving in this world. I don't have to listen to anyone, and I have no rules to follow. It might sound like the stupidest thing that you've ever heard, but this apocalypse changed my life for the better.

I learned to be independent. I learned to fend for myself. And I don't need anyone else; they would just hold me back from my full potential.

I did what I normally do each day. Scavenge for food, kill a few zombies here and there, then find a reasonable sleeping place. I never stayed in just one place; I traveled around. Today was no different. Or at least I thought.

I sat next to a bonfire that I just made when I heard it. It wasn't the zombie sounds I have a deep hatred for. No, this time it were words that I was able to decipher. That meant one thing; humans. Survivors. Oh dear God, I haven't met living people in months. I scan my surroundings thoroughly. I couldn't see them though, and hopefully they don't see me yet either. I quickly put out the fire and take out my machete. I'll have to find another place to sleep tonight. The voices were getting closer. They saw the smoke from the fire. All I can really do now is run. So I do.

I just keep going and going through thickets, making my own path as I go. I can hear voices coming from the distance in every direction. Human interaction isn't really something I come across often, and I want to keep it that way.

When I finally got to the clearing at the end of the thicket, I realized the many mistakes I made in that moment.
One; I made a very obvious path behind me that whoever was following me could easily follow.
Two; I made the mistake of turning around to look at the said obvious path, because I bumped into something that wasn't, in fact, a tree.
Three; I was pretty sure that the thing I bumped into was a human who was very capable of communicating, which I really do not want to do. I haven't spoken to anyone in forever. Especially since I don't know if they're going to benefit me or betray me.

With that in mind, I swiftly turn around and line up my machete with the person's throat.
Let me rephrase... His throat.
A man about my age, probably Korean like me, stood before me in close proximity. But he wasn't just some person surviving by luck. He was prepared. I can tell by the way he raised his gun to my forehead at the same moment I raised my machete. He would be an even match if I have to fight him at all. But I have limited time, because whoever I was running from would catch up.