[b]Alone[/b]

There wasn't time to go back, no! Not now! It was getting too dark and they were way too close. Right and left, mark the trees, right and left. Remember where you came from, don't forget your path. These were thoughts that ran his mind as he sprinted through the incoming darkness. The escalating heartbeat didn't help. It was almost as if it echoed through the damn swamps. The water seemed to ricochet the noise like sunlight. The noise pinpointed his location, giving the monster a direct gps-like route towards him. It was getting hard to breathe, especially in the weather surrounding him. Who said it didn't get cold in the south? The damn humidity and dampness of the bloody swamps made it seem like it was twenty degrees. With only a tank top and a jacket on his torso, the man feared hypothermia. Unfortunately, he didn't have the leisure time to start a fire. If he stopped running, the death would soon catch up to him. 

His boots broke the small branches beneath his feet. The grass also shattered along with the wood, like the man's hope. He understood that soon enough, he'd get tired of running, that he would end up the prey for the creatures of the night. And then it happened, the sun finally reached its limit and clocked out. There was no more lighting, no more shine to guide the way. Now, it was pure darkness, not even the moon could illuminate the way. The trees above prevented that from happening due to their giant statures. 

Moaning echoed through the silence, it created a sense of fear on all surroundings. They were getting close. 

About twenty minutes ago this wasn't the situation - or at least it didn't seem that way...................

"Where the hell did y'all go?" Floyd asked himself walking around the house slowly, noticing a couple walkers roaming the yard. He crouched and came up behind a walker, jamming his blade into its thick skeletor brain. Instantly the unprepared walker fell to the ground, thudding loudly. Another yard-walker noticed and started towards Floyd. "Don't joke with me asshole" Floyd commented, using his blade like a throwing knife. Right in the skull and the walker fell backwards. Quickly, Floyd acted and ran to retrieve his knife, staying hidden from the third yard-walker. 

Soon enough, he found himself at the doorsteps of the home. He noticed the door had been forced opened, the frame was nearly shattered to bits. "How many?" he wondered, not knowing how many walkers had overrun the house. With caution, he entered the home, looking right then left. The kitchen was empty. The living room also. Then a loud bang came from the second floor of the home. Floyd turned quickly to the stairs and started to walk them. 

Once on the second floor, he took a defensive position as he slightly bent down walking down the hall towards the noise. It was the room Jess had initially claimed her own. Floyd noticed the door was wide open as he continued down the hall. There had been nothing in the previous room, just what was there in the first place. As he approached the room, Floyd peeked in and noticed a walker struggling to get out of the closet. It had trapped itself on the hangers and clothing, unable to get out. Floyd then walked normally towards the thing. In aggravation, the walker growled and moaned at him, hungry for his flesh. "You're one ugly son of a b*tch ain'tya?" Floyd stated. The walker attempted to reach out for Floyd. "Sorry, I don't role that way" Floyd joked as he forced the blade through the walkers jugular and into its rotten cerebrum. The zombie dropped, but was caught by the hangers and clothing before it reached the ground - looked like a puppet. 

Anyhow, as Floyd was making his way back downstairs, he heard a noise form the backdoor. Again, he went to check it out. Once he got there, he noticed that the door was attempted of being breached. That last-yard walker was trying to get in. Floyd went ahead and opened the door, backing away quickly and watched the walker fall to the ground. "Idiot." 

But as the walker stood, Floyd didn't want to believe his eyes. The thing, the walker he was facing stood and became the resembling image of her. He knew it wasn't, but his mind couldn't help but see her in that walker. The deceased pregnant woman started walking towards him with her arms held outward. Her near-claws attempted to snatch a piece of his flesh as her hoofs thumped through the wooden floor. Floyd backpedaled as he continued to see Jess in the walker. Since she was nowhere to be found - nor Abram - and the prints showed the vehicle had made it out in one piece, Floyd knew the walker before him wasn't her, but there was something that prevented him from acting. 

At that time, these..........thoughts.........started to roam his mind. He wondered if they would come back - if they even wanted to return for him. Floyd wasn't stupid to believe they wouldn't figure out he'd return to the house, Abram nor Jess was that dumb. He had the idea that after a while, they would come back to the house looking for him, but right now, he was second guessing himself. The last thing he remembers was the argument he had with Jess, having her reach her last straw and fighting back for the first time. He remembers her not being happy at all, her finger digging into the sole of his chest. He still felt that clonk - and it wasn't comfortable, nor physically nor emotionally. 

His trance of thought was interrupted when the pregnant walker took hold of his jacket. Floyd reacted by pushing the walker to its back as he pulled away. As it started to get up, Floyd quickly dashed forward and jumped on it, stabbing it quickly and directly as he put it out of its misery. But apparently, that little blade-action wasn't enough as he started to impulsively jam the knife into the walker brain over and over. He'd done it so many times that he had become exhausted and just laid atop the walker for a second before falling to the side. His face was crunched up as he shed tears of regret, damping the wood below him. He just sat there for minutes, urging himself to snap out of it. 

"AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he yelled from the top of his lungs as he stood to stab the wall behind him. He was so damn irritated with the decisions he had made that he had to take it out on something. They weren't coming back for him and he understood why. Floyd then hurried to get whatever supplies Jess and Abram had left behind. It was apparent they didn't have much time to pack anything as things were still in the same place. Floyd returned upstairs and got the donations Abram had provided. Ammunition, food, and medical supplies all went into his bag. Once that was done, it was time to leave. 

But everything changed on the way out as out of the woods came the hoards. "What the-" Floyd started but was unable to finish as he quickly started to jog away from the incoming walkers. His scream seemed to call back the walkers that had stormed the house earlier. It is to believe they were merely lingering around, awaiting another target to drop by - and they got one. 

And that's where we are now. Twenty minutes later, Floyd runs for his life attempting to get enough separation between him and the lingering walkers. But every time he seems to be in the clear, another walker seems to appear from the pits of nowhere. In addition to that already-terrible-situation, the darkness had overwhelmed the light. And it was cold..............very cold. 

So therefore, Floyd continued to jog as efficiently as he could, but getting extremely exhausted. All of a sudden, a ridge! "FUCK!!" Floyd cursed as he rolled down slanted surface. Rocks and all sorts of rough terrain scraped his entire body. It seemed like an endless journey to the underworld until suddenly it ended with at hard knock to the back to the head. Floyd had finally made it to the bottom but at the cost of unconsciousness. And with that, the darkness became complete................for now.