Kamille Ali considered herself lucky for being able to find a second family in a world that constantly stole from her. She found a second mother, she found a girl who she loved dearly, and she had finally learnt the truth about survival. She was liv...
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"I feel like an umbrella could be useful, I don't know," Kamille said into her radio. "I mean, what if it rains?"
"How are you planning on fighting off walkers with one of your hands holding an umbrella?" Al replied mockingly.
Kamille pressed her lips together, dropping the umbrella she'd found in the backseat of the abandoned car. "Touché."
After deeming that car invaluable, Kamille moved onto the next one in the junkyard they were searching. Her and Al were out looking for supplies whilst dropping some boxes around in case anyone needed help.
The past month had been pretty uneventful as Al's tapes had constantly led them to dead ends. They hadn't really found anyone to help, but on the bright side, the factory was safe enough to stay in. They had enough food and supplies but nobody to share them with. It felt like they were the only ones left in Texas sometimes.
"Ooh, mints!"
With a childish smile on her face, Kamille grabbed the mints from the glove compartment and stood up to check them out. They were sealed, as if brand new, so after ripping off the plastic wrapping, she opened the container and eyed them suspiciously. There was no mould or anything on them and they didn't smell funky, so she popped one in her mouth and was satisfied with the result.
Before she could put them in her pocket, she heard the sound of someone flicking the safety off their gun and felt the barrel press to her head.
"Hands up and turn around," the stranger said slowly, a slight tremble in his voice.
Kamille did as he said whilst saying, "Okay, okay, I don't want any trouble, mate."
"There won't be any," he promised, as Kamille faced his direction. He didn't look older than fifteen, despite how built he was. "Give me your bag."
"You're a kid," she realised aloud, only making the stranger clench his jaw and change hands with his gun.
"Don't underestimate me!" he shouted, in what should have been a threatening way, but only made him seem scared. "Now give me your goddamn bag."
