Azseth — Roleplayer Guild

Fuad and Terry proceeded in relative silence for a bit before coming up to an old car. It wasn't the largest, nor the most luxurious, but it provided concealment, relative cover and was nice because it kept heat well enough. It was an older Lincoln, so it actually afforded a lot of room compared to the more compact models of today. Both looked at each other, waiting to see if one would give reason to skip it and move on, but neither spoke up. With a slight shrug, both took "business as usual" which involved walking in a circle around the car many times over, going out as the walked. They would stand closer together at first then eventually end up about 20 or 30 feet away towards the end. They did this to see if they could find any immediate threats, like zombies or people, and then also looked for signs of activity, such as bodies, tracks, trails or anything of the sort. This was all done in relative silence unlike earlier in the day or when they were on the move. When they were moving, dangers could come and go, and they we already on the go, so it wasn't that important--danger was just as likely that you to walk into them as they into it. But now, they'd be static and they needed to be more mindful and serious.

The ended up just over about half a mile from the vehicle and at that point they decided to move back, and about that time, it started to snow. It started as light flurries that hardly accumulated, but started to fall a bit harder. Fuad made a face expressing his displeasure, but kept them to himself for the time being. They were within a few hundred yards of the vehicle when Fuad stopped suddenly and silently, so much so that Terry took a few steps before realizing what was going on. He turned back and looked at Fuad, who pointed down to the ground.

There were footprints in the light snow.

Fuad spoke up first, but quietly. "It's a kid. It's alone. And it's not shambling or dragging. I think this kid's alives."

"You don't know that," Terry shot back quickly, already seeing where this was going. "I don't think w--"

"Shut up Terry. We're gunna check it out. Worst case scenario, it's one kid walker and we just put it down. But this may be a kid, and this kid may need help."

It was rare that Fuad was forward and commanding, but when he did, Terry knew the argument was generally sound, and that it would ultimately dissolve to "well then leave Terry, I'll do it myself." They've been in spots like this before.

As Valentina kept walking, finding nothing but the dead and dust, saliva was dribbling down her chin as she continued to starve. It had been close to four days since she had a proper three-meal ration arrangement, and she'd had no food at all on the fourth day. Foam was beginning to form on the side of her mouth. Her arms and legs could not help but to shiver. The hunger pangs in the stomach was unbearable. Everything swam before her eyes, and the lack of sleep made everything even more unbearable - even the snow and sunshine, things normally enjoyable, became nothing but a source of irritation to Valentina.

Thoughts ran through her mind. Naughty thoughts, but by now good and bad mattered little as she decided, inasmuch as how much a starving child could decide, that she would do anything to find food and bring some back to Dylan. Thoughts of her previous attempt to rob someone returned, haunting her, jabbing at her heart - but the pain from it was nothing compared to the abuse her stomach was going through, so she remained resolute. 'Gretel did kill the witch', Valentina decided. 'The Prince did kill Maleficent to save the sleeping beauty', she thought. 'The Three Little Pigs did kill the Big Bad Wolf', she believed. Then she remembered how she was badly treated by everyone she came across, well, except for her family, Lieutenant Hugh and his men, and Dylan.

The little girl, however, did not have to languish in her dark thoughts as an opportunity had presented itself to her - two men standing out in the open, in the middle of the road, seemingly unafraid. Valentina decided, in her extreme hunger and delirium, that they were bad men for standing in the middle of the road, unafraid, and decided that she would kill them for whatever they had. Quickly darting towards the twisted hulk of a wrecked vehicle, she hid behind it with her MP5K close at hand. Hopping from one hiding spot to the next, she was coming closer, almost ready to gun them down.

Yet... Valentina remembered, miraculously through the haze of desperation clouding her that was like an evil magical spell from a dark sorcerer. She remembered her last attempt at robbing. A family of five, like her own. A father, a mother, two daughters and a son, like her own. She remembered pointing Valerie's snub-nosed revolver at them, asking for everything they had, but they said they had nothing. Hungry and desperate, Valentina remembered firing her gun into the air - she didn't want to hurt anyone. She was afraid to hurt anyone then. Yet she did. The biters came, and as Valentina ran when a horde was forming, she turned back and saw that the family didn't - she remembered that one of them was trapped. She remembered seeing them being surrounded , fell upon by the hungry dead, torn to pieces in a dancing fountain of blood...

Feeling guilty, Valentina did not know what to do anymore. When she took a peek at the two men again, she saw them as just... men, rather than bad men. Although she was desperate, the screams from her previous robbery attempt haunted her. Standing up, she walked towards them, unable to think of a way, unable to think straight because of the haze surrounding her mind, permeating it, paralysing it. Looking at the ground as she approached the two men, she held on to her MP5K tightly, close to her chest, her knuckles turning white from her unnaturally vice-like grip (bearing in mind that she was a kid), unable to... think. Her eyes wandered, sometimes landing on the road, sometimes on their legs, rarely and only briefly, on their eyes and then on the cars on the road.

Valentina, in her current state, was a miserable-looking thing. The abuse she suffered was becoming quite obvious. Other than her one dead eye and frowning scar, her eyebags betrayed her lack of proper sleep, her shaking limbs hunger, not to mention the paleness upon her skin - exhaustion and everything else. The barrel of her gun wavered as Valentina decided what to do with it, but never towards the men as she was unsure what to do with them.

Valentina was fighting against both the desire to rob the men and her dark past, unsure of what to do with herself. She wavered back and forth, spiraling down inside herself, becoming trapped in the quagmire of her unwelcome memories. Visions of herself robbing the family of five, bringing a horde of biters down on them, visions of herself stealing things, sometimes important things - she imagined the consequences without realizing it, her mind painting a horrifying image of someone starving without their food. A woman realizing that her bullets were missing at a crucial moment. Her knees gave way and the girl fell on them, unable to stand any longer as she held her head with both her hands, as if her brain would explode if she didn't. Her MP5K dangled on her shoulder, hanging uselessly, swaying. Saliva dripped down her chin, foam followed, as if she had contracted rabies from a dog.

Valentina's eyes widened as her single good eye (and her dead eye behind her patch) stared deep into one of the men's shoes, past it, through it - loss after loss, mistake after mistake, sin after sin unleashed their fury ipon her as she was on the floor, not just helpless, but beyond helpless as she was momentarily crippled on the inside. Her father's voice were all around her, joined by the rest of her family, and a choir of friends and even people she'd barely met, people who'd harmed her, people she'd harmed. Her father's voice adviced her, but taunted her. The voices grew louder and louder, as if scolding her, pulling her down, breaking her... Valentina covered her ears and screamed and cried.

Both men were following the path of the foot prints in the snow and listening when their attention was drawn to the area behind them. Having followed the prints, they were not paying much attention to the other direction and then they turned, they heard and saw what they were initially looking for. Immediately, Fuad found it odd that the sight of a girl in the snow could be such a shock. Granted, she did have a gun out, but it seemed like she was more about fall to the ground than anything. But, a gun was a gun, and Fuad didn't know how to act.

Terry on the other hand was suspicious. No young girl should be off by herself, so he was assuming this was a trap of some sort. He heard Fuad open his mouth and say "hey, are you--" but his words ceased immediately as he looked over her shoulder. Terry saw it, well, them, too and both of them pulled their shotguns and pointed it over and behind the girl.

Both yelled at her to get up, but neither approached, now wanting her to open fire on them. Terry yelled, while Fuad tried to be more stern and reassuring, but a myriad of "get up girl, there's zombies behind you" were thrown her way.

Valentina could barely hear beyond the shouting in her head. Sounds coming in from the outside world were muffled, including the warnings thrown at her, until they became loud enough, jerking her awake, and when she was a little more conscious of herself, she began looking around, wondering what had happened to her. The two men she saw puzzled her, confusing her as she could not recall them being there in the first place, nor were they friends. The ethereal voices began to fade, but she still could not hear, and her mind was a blank. All she could do was to stare at the two men even as biters were coming up to her, their moans of the damned barely even audible at all above her heartbeat.

Both Fuad and Terry cursed under their breaths and the two moved into action immediately. Minus the "fucks" and "son of a bitch" comments, the two moved in a complimentary manner and that was the advantage to surviving with someone for this long: you knew what to do, you knew what the other would do. Fuad took off running towards the girl and even while he expected is, the blast of the shotgun going off behind him caught him slightly off guard. He could see at least 4 zombies behind the girl, but there seemed to be more, and the number ultimately didn't mean anything. He pulled his pistol and fired over the girl at about the same moment that Terry let loose with another shotgun blast. Fuad shot left, Terry shot right, it's just the way they did things. Fuad made it to the girl and slid down in the snow, reaching for her.

"Hey hey, come with me," he said as quietly as he could, just before Terry chambered another round and opened fire again.

The gunshots near Valentina jolted her awake like lightning making contact with her fingertips. Jumping a little, her eyes widen, her only working eye staring wide in front of her. It was as if she had forgotten how to move, as she froze where she was, trying to understand what was going on. All of a sudden, a man who looked a little like her Turkish shopkeeper friend came up to her and offered her a hand. As things were happening too fast, she was taken aback and reluctant to trust him. Yet his similarity to an old friend endeared her a little to him - said old friend was said to have flown back to Turkey, never to be seen again, and his sudden disappearance was one of the first tragedies she suffered.

Staring into his eyes with her solitary cyclopean eye framed by an exhausted eyebag, she began to trust in him, and when one of the walking dead was coming in from the side, just outside of the middle-eastern man's sight, limping rather quickly for a stiff corpse, Valentina found her MP5K quickly, lifted it as she got into a kneeling position instinctively and fired several shots in a blink of an eye. The burst of shots, however, did not dispose of the biter. Valentina could barely hold her weapon, as she felt sickly and weak, her hands shaking as she struggled to defend herself and her Turkish shopkeeper look-alike. A bullet had missed, one landed square in its chest and another had dislodged its jaw.

Fuad got up and as he went to scoop the girl up was surprised she started firing at the zombies. He lifted her up with one arm and kicked the chest of the undead she'd shot, knocking it back to the ground heavily. A few more moved towards him but Terry opened fire again. A group of about 4 more walkers approached, a few moving quicker than Fuad had ever seen, and as he tried to dodge, he failed and one bit down heavily into his shoulder. "Ah fuck," he yelled and spun. The clothing he had was thick, but he could still feel his skin being crushed underneath and he was fairly certain blood was drawn to some degree. He managed to shake free and was surprised as Terry appeared in a blur, smashing the butt end of the shotgun into the skull of the one who'd bitten Fuad.

Most people who struck zeds in the head with the stock of rifles did so to create separation or stagger the undead. Terry was different however. It was either his sheer strength, or perhaps his complete and utter hatred for walkers coupled with his desire to end the existence of every single one of them (or maybe all three?), but when Terry came down with whatever blunt object he had in his hand, he was bringing the thunder. And the force behind that blow had the thing crumble to the ground and it ceased to move, leaving blood and brains strewn about.

Fuad ran without looking and after another 2 shotgun blasts, he assumed Terry was doing the same.

When Valentina's saviour carried her in his arms, the girl did not resist, partly because she was too weak to do so. For some reason she could no longer comprehend, she felt safe in his arms, and decided that he felt a little like her disappeared shopkeeper friend. Releasing her MP5K, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist instinctively, making it easier for the man saving her to carry her around., all the while fighting the urge to vomit from sheer hunger and exhaustion. Somehow, it occurred to her that it might be rude to hurl at someone, especially when he was helping her.

As Fuad ran, he found he was kind of caressing the girl reassuringly, and he heard himself saying things like "shhh," and "it's going to be ok," and "you're safe now" but it was like he was watching it or listening from the other side of a door. He ran and ran until finally, Terry behind him yelled gruffly, and breathlessly, "holy fuck... Let's stop.... They're....gone." He was huffing and puffing as Fuad turned to look at him, he realized he too was close to collapsing. Terry collapsed on the ground, breathing in the air hungrily but Fuad stayed standing. Without moving the girl away, he said to her. "I'm Fuad, that's Terry. Are you ok?"

Valentina, despite her time with Dylan, was still struggling with words. She was silent most of the time even when she was with him. "I'm..." She searched for her words, but then something else did the talking for her. Unable to stand it any longer, she turned her head away from her new friend and let it out, yet there was little to hurl. When she was done, saliva mixed with stomach fluid was dribbling down her face. It was a horrible sight. All of a sudden, she wasn't just desperate, but extremely miserable, and it was painfully expressed on her face. A bit of shame crawled up into her, something from the seemingly distant past, making things worse - it felt wrong to vomit in front of someone. Lacking the energy to cry, she shed a single tear. Her face did the rest. "I'm sorry."

If Fuad was taken aback, he didn't show it. He simply took a cloth from a cargo pocket and wiped her face. Despite his desire to be caring and light, months fighting for survival every day had made moments like these all but non-existent, so he almost gruffly said. "Don't be sorry. No big deal." Sure the words were meant to soothe her but they could have easily been taken as completely lacking anything reassuring. Then again, to someone else who'd been out in the world as Fuad and Terry had been, a statement like that could perhaps be taken for exactly what it was. He hadn't seen the girl clearly, had only a vague concept of her face and the patch, but it didn't matter at this point, he would let her dictate how and when she'd let go. Fuad took a moment to look at Terry, unsure of what he'd have to say about the current situation, but in the meantime, the big man seemed intent only on sucking in as much air as he could as he laid in the light snow.

After finding some strength and stiffling some sniffles and holding back tears, Valentina let herself down, but upon landing on her feet, she could feel just how weak she was, being barely able to carry her own Hello Kitty backpack and weapons. "I'm Valentina." She finally introduced herself. "Valentina V-Vetrov." The girl found that she couldn't look at them in the eyes for long, as if the men would kill her if she does. Instead, she opted to stare at the snowy ground, their feet and her puddle of vomit on occasion. Unsure of where to put her hands, she clasped them together, rubbing them. The first thing that came up on her mind was food and Dylan, but she was afraid to ask for anything, afraid that the men might turn on them, or that something might happen. "Thanks... For the..." Valentina continued softly, her good eye meeting Fuad's pair briefly before flitting back down to meet the ground again, unsure of how to express her gratitude, or anything for that matter. She was still attempting to regain her power of speech with Dylan, but it had only been a few days.

***********************
1 year ago...

"I pray you let me look upon the bond." Valentina said to a boy dressed in renaissance garbs standing opposite of her as she pointed conspicuously at a huge roll of paper tied to his belt. The boy looked shifty and conniving as he rubbed his hands in anticipation, too much like a stereotypical arch-villain to be realistic. Upon Valentina finishing her line, the boy flashed a shark smile at her as he pulled the roll of document from his belt.

"Here 'tis, most reverend doctor," The boy said in a rather unnatural accent, "here it is." He handed the roll of paper to Valentina, who took it with a well-hidden but strangely obvious look of distrust on her face.

"Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee." Valentina countered, maintaining a look of authority and defiance about her in her Venetian judge's robes, despite her fear for her suitor's friend. Had make-up not caked her smooth and unblemished face, she would have easily looked flushed and revealed that fear.

"An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven!" The boy then spat out his words, "Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? No. Not for Venice!"

"Why, this bond is forfeit, and lawfully by this the Jew may claim a pound of flesh, to be by him cut off nearest the merchant's heart." Panicking slightly at the gravity of the the situation, Valentina continued to improvise, stalling for time, asking for mercy for her suitor's friend without sounding like it. It helps to be in a judge's robe, "- Be merciful; Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond."

The play was a success, and the daring director who staged the redesigned Shakespearean work considered innovative and resourceful. This, despite the fact that it was a graduation play staged in an acting school, where Valentina attended after-school lessons after joining an acting club at her elementary school. Several distinguished guests had attended, much to the benefit of everyone involved.

"Dad! Did you like my play!?" Valentina had asked her father upon coming out of the backstage after most of the audience had left, coming up to him energetic, almost bouncing off floor and walls, excited, both her fine, perfect silver-blue eyes glittering with anticipation, "Did you like my play!?" Before her bear-sized father could reply, she'd pounced on him, hugging him.

"It was beautiful, my little Kotik." Her father had said as he looked her in the eyes, telling her things that words alone will never expressed. With his daughter, he'd never had to lie about her acting abilities. They smiled widely at each other. If only a man who was clearing his throat to attract attention did not interrupt them, they would have gone on further to express their love for each other.

"Uh hi, yeah, I'm sorry..." An awkward man about twice as thin as Valentina's father and a head shorter came up to them, adjusting his tie - he was sweating as if he was in the Mojave desert, "I'm an agent from uh... you know, all the way from Hollywood and I'd like to talk to you guys about something. Great play, by the way."

**********************

Fuad looked at the girl, then Terry, then looked around, making sure all was safe. Well, at least as safe as could be expected. When then girl climbed down, Fuad looked at her as she thanked him, but similarly, he had been far removed from intimate interactions with anyone for months now, so he was similarly off in that regard. He simply nodded and said "no problem." He didn't even look at her, continuing to scan the surrounding area and listening as best he could. Surprisingly, it was Terry who sat up and spoke next, gruffly saying to Val "Valentina, I'm Terry. Nice to meet you." He was smiling.

This was almost a shock to Fuad. First and foremost, since they've been together Terry had shown almost no form of emotion, except of course for anger and indifference. He wanted to live, and he wanted to live to kill zombies. The tone in which Terry spoke to the girl, and the look on his face seemed like something from a movie, it seemed fake.

It was then that Fuad realized at some point, Terry probably had kids, most likely a daughter.

Continuing before Valentina could reply, Terry patted his side and asked "did you need anything? Water, food? Are you hurt?" It was such a stark contrast from the Terry that Fuad knew. His tone was reassuring and calm, low and soothing. It was different from Fuad trying to placate someone. He never had kids, he had siblings and cousins, so his mannerisms were more brother/sister type things. Fuad simply stood off to the side, look around and hid a smile. He wondered then, why he hid that smile. Was he embarrassed? Did he not want others to see? Was it fake? Or, was it most likely because there was no room for smiles in this world?

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