In the Very End: Book One

Chapter 1 *editing*

*WARNING: Please be advised that this chapter contains mature content and strong language.*

Chapter 1
Quinn's POV

I placed my left foot in front of my right. My eyes were glued to the rodent gnawing on an acorn. His ears twitched and he looked around. As he started to climb down the tree, I squeezed the knife in my hands and hurled it towards him. The blade rolled through the air and hit the squirrel between the ears, pinning it to the bark. I narrowed my eyes as an orange arrow pierced through its middle from a different angle.

I grabbed the gun that was tucked in the back of my jeans and held it in front of me. A man slowly emerged from the trees with a crossbow in his hands.

He wore a sleeveless plaid shirt and dark brown pants. His boots were worn in and caked with dirt. His face was hidden behind his bow, only showing a pair of piercing blue eyes and his forehead that was shiny with beads of sweat. His eyebrows were furrowed in an angered look.

"Not looking for trouble," I said.

He squeezed his eyes, looking deeper into me, and took a step forward. "You have a camp?" he asked. "Others?"

"No, just myself."

A deer appeared to our right in the distance and the man looked at me once more before angling the bow at the deer. He shot at it, but it started to run. The arrow landed in its side. He loaded and shot again. He took off after the deer and I retrieved my squirrel and his arrow from the tree.

I sat down on a log and strung the squirrel with the rest of todays catch which included a rabbit and a few blackberries in my backpack. As I stood to readjust my bag, I heard screams echo through the hollow air. It sounded like kids. I finished gathering my things and started off towards the calls for help.

I came to a clearing in the forest. The deer was on the ground being eaten by a walker, surrounded by a few people with weapons raised. I jogged forward and put the skin freak down with my knife.

"That's the first one we've had up here," a man wearing a fisherman's hat said frantically. "They never come this far up the mountain."

"Well they're running out of food in the city," another man said.

The guy I had just met came out of the woods shortly after. It was then that I made the connection that he was part of this group.

"Son of a bitch. That's my deer!" he yelled, yanking an arrow from its side. "Look at it; all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy, bastard!" With every word he said, he kicked the lifeless body.

"Calm down, son. That's not helping."

"What do you know about it, old man?" The man with the crossbow stepped over the body and got in the elder's face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond." He stepped back over the animal. "Been trackin' this deer. Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think?" he asked. "Think we could cut around this chewed up part here?"

A man with dark curly hair stepped forward, a shotgun resting on his shoulders. "I would not risk that."

"That's a damn shame." He sighed. "I got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

I handed him his arrow as he stepped past me. He took it and continued on through the trees.

"What's your story?" the man with the shotgun asked.

"You came out of nowhere," the older man added.

"Just passing by," I replied. "I happened to hear the commotion."