We’d been walking through the woods for maybe an hour when we finally started to see some buildings through the trees. The trek hadn’t been particularly exciting. No one had tried to make conversation other than when introducing ourselves to each other. Even then there was tension.
We passed several log cabins before stopping at a clearing. In it, there were two tents and a large house. Scattered about the area were boxes of food and building materials. The place looked well kept, despite the fact that the world was crumbling around it.
“What is this place,” Ubi muttered.
“It used to be a campsite,” Blake answered.
There was silence as we continued moving forward. The quiet prompted me to wonder why the woods had been so… empty.
“Hey, why were the woods so clear? I mean, there weren’t any of those… things,” I directed my comment at Blake.
“What things?” She glanced over her shoulder and frowned at me. Then she let out a snicker before replying, “Oh. You mean the walkers?”
“Yeah. Walkers. Some people call them runners, too. Or ‘the infected’. Geez, I can’t believe you don’t have a name for them yet. It’s been, like, seven months,” Blake shook her head.
“Six, actually,” I breathed. If she heard me she took no note of it.
“Anyway, our group has been in these woods for a long time. We’ve had our fair share of run-ins with walkers in here. Today just happens to be particularly calm.”
As we approached the building, a tall, well-dressed man walked down the steps of the porch towards us. Ezra, who had been silently leading our little procession, came to a halt. The rest of us stopped behind him.
The man stood, analyzing Ubi and I warily before letting out a sigh, “What’s this, Ezra?”