Presley strode carefully down the aisles, the bow raised in preparation for any attacks. Zeva followed at her heels, head raised and nose testing the musty air.

Most of the place had been picked over, so their chances at finding much food were pretty slim. Still, she had spotted a few cans that had given her the slightest bit of hope. At this point, they could use everything that they could get. The prison was well stocked, but you just never knew. Shit happens, especially at a time like this. 

Spotting a lone roamer, Presley whistled softly and watched as the human-like creature turned, black drool dripping from his rotting face. She released the arrow, and Zeva sprang forward, tugging the arrow out of the skull and bringing it back to Presley. Once they had finished their check, they began stocking a cart with food. There had been more than what Presley had seen, she actually had to go and dump the food into the trunk and then come back for more.

The first time had been succesful, but she was in for a surprise when she returned... Presley made the mistake of going towards the back room, the only place where she and Zeva hadn't checked. Her boots crunched on old newspaper and her scent carried through the swinging doors, which was enough to alert the walkers. Her eyes widened in horror as the heads of multiple roamers appeared through the small glass window on the swinging door, and threw herself at the ground, slamming hard against the counter. She could hear the creak of the door hinges and the hungry rasps of the monsters, but she could not see Daryl nor Glenn.

From the moment she had been born, Presley had been pressured to be selfish and focus only on her own survival.

And since she had been born, she had believed that was how she was: stubborn and selfish. It wasn't until now, at that very moment, that she realized that maybe, just maybe, her father had been wrong just this once.

All this time she'd believed she was selfish, and yet, she didn't see all the good that she did for people. She didn't see how she risked her life right now to help them, or how she risked her life every other day. It was only right now that she realized that maybe, just maybe, she was different. 

She gave one look at Zeva, running her hand over the dog's ear. The dog looked at her with wide brown eyes, seeing the importance of the situation, how crucial her order was. "Run." It wasn't a term that Zeva knew well and had a lot of training on, but she knew what it meant. The dog hesitated, flattening her ears and ducking her tail between her legs. It wasn't until Presley gave the black dog a shove that the dog bolted from behind the counter, lumbering towards the exit. 

This drew the attention of the roamers.

Presley, surprisingly calm, stepped out from behind the counter and raised her gun. There were even more than she had thought. She raised it to eye level, firing rounds into the foreheads of the dead creatures, the ones who walked.

In spite of everything, she was calm. She could only pray that Daryl and Glenn had enough sense to get out of there. 

Once her bullets ran out, Presley went into action. She pulled an arrow from her quiver, using the metal tip to pierce the heads of any of the monsters who dared to come towards her. She knew the outcome of the situation- she knew of her near inevitable death...

And yet, she didn't stop.

- - - - - -

Oh, how I love cliff hangers.

The chapter sizes will vary, because I feel that sometimes we need a good cliffhanger every once in a while to spice things up. I feel like you guys were getting too comfortable... I want you at the edge of your seats ;)

Just so you know, there will be major character deaths in this book. When? I shan't tell you. I shan't. Just be prepared and keep some tissues at hand.

Want another update? Comment! If you give me some comments, I will update faster... Otherwise it'll be a few days or even a week or two before you see another. c: 

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