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SAMANTHA WALSH'S HAIR was a mess.Her dark strands were in knots, tangled up in all different directions. It resembled her life - a complete, tangled and fucked up mess that she was.
What the hell am I doing?
She was supposed to out on the road finding her group, but she was suddenly a part of some community that she barely knew. What the actual shit?
It was as if she had lost all sense of direction, but she hadn't just lost it. This has been happening for several months since she was separated from the others.
It was like Shane had been her compass, and without him it that compass had completely broken.
The lone walker from across the parking lot must've felt the same.
He wore a business attire with a watch on his gnawed off wrist, stumbling aimlessly though the sun's glare and trying to find the same thing as her.
Without any direction in the world, you lose the sight of what's there.
Samantha never watched them before, but for some reason this one caught her eye. It made her realize how miserable those things actually appear.
It was a terrible way to go, to walk upon the crumbles of a society as the thing that ripped it away. It was nothing but their own personal damnation.
It made her think of Jim, wondering if was able to find his family. Maybe it wasn't so bad for them if they had each other.
"Want me to get him?" Martinez had finished tying up the boy, making sure to make the ropes double knotted.
The walker was a little away and oblivious to their presence. It was just a waste of energy. "Do you think ever think their miserable?" The realized how stupid the question was once it left her lips. "To be one of them, I mean."
Samantha could feel Martinez's brown eyes on her, before they slowly shifted to watch the corpse too. "Maybe, wouldn't be surprised," He said, sitting down in the passengers seat. "If it gets any closer, let me know."
She leaned against the car, the metal hot against her skin but her mind was too preoccupied to notice. She kept thinking about the boy as she pulled out the locket, caressing her fingers over the name as she rubbed her head.
Sloan.
The name repeated in her head continuously, trying to connect the dots to the boy, the horrible mess, and the necklace. Maybe all three weren't connected at all and she was overthinking it.
They were all probably at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Merle Dixon appeared out of the mall, something long and shiny that glinted in the sun. At first, Samantha assumed it was his prosthetic hand but as he got closer she was proven otherwise.
