The girl was screaming. She couldn't help it, didn't understand how dire the situation one. How that biological response was drawing more than just the attention of humans, to love and care for it. Thankfully for child and mother both, it had reached the ears of a certain duo moments before the shambling horrors, although not that it might make that much of a difference, now the dead were starting to swarm the bridge.
"What the actual fuck Marcus." The voice and tone was one he'd become very much accustom to over the last few weeks, fluent, but warped in the well known fashion of someone who's first language was latinised Spanish, with that fire and spice that was not entirely uncommon, but particularly strong in this one woman in particular. Her outburst was timed exactly to her bringing a military-grade tomahawk down, spike end, into the temple of a zombie, before shoving it off the weapon, over the side of the bridge to the wreckage strewn road below.
He replied only with a grunt, one swing from his blade decapitating two of the more decomposed zeds, muscles built from a lifetime of weights and sport making easy work of the weakened flesh, not that he'd have much difficulty killing an actual human. In the time before, his friends had known him as a gentle giant, a powerhouse focused on legitimate work and pursuits. Now he wasn't so gentle, and the ability to snuff our the hostile hoards came easy, as if it was all that he'd been working for. If he hadn't been moving around, a small hill of corpses would have already been built around him, even as the number of bodies stumbling towards them was quickly becoming hoard worthy.
"Seriously, if the bitch doesn't know to escape a broken vehicle in the open...it's not our job to have her." The latina paused for a moment, lining up another blow to the next threat, but having to duck beneath a sudden grasping sweep of an undead arm, coming up, dangerously close to its mouth, but axe-head first,it was dead before it could even snap at her once. With no immediate threats, she turned to glare at Marcus, but the warning glance he gave her, between kills, went some way to scolding her for questioning him. It was a glance that bother punished her for being selfish, but also made it clear this wasn't for the woman cowering, but the child that had no part in this mess. Nevertheless, she swore loudly in Spanish, before turning back to the chaos encroaching upon them.
"Come on now Florida, no rest for the wicked." When he actually spoke, using a nickname that brought back memories of sunnier shores despite the situation, it was more lighthearted than she expected, bringing a slight smirk to her features as the pair continued to fight, slowly being pushed back to the car in question, over the wrecked and abandoned vehicles of different kinds.
"Money don't grow on trees." It may not have been intended as a reference, but her own voice took up the song as a swing from her own weapon took the top of an undead skull off, the military grade of the blade coming free almost immediately, the human bone providing worryingly little resistance against the weapon. She used the momentum to carry herself up in a jump, atop the roof of a car, swinging below at a zed which went for her feet.
"I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed." Marcus continued, before with a grunt, throwing the debrained zombie in his hands at another two, sending all three of the living dead tumbling off the bridge. It likely wouldn't finish off the two without machete wounds to the head, but it would disable them, at least for as long as they would be here, assuming they'd make it out alive.
"Ain't nothing in this world for free." Her words barely heard over the screams, the mother joining the child as the dead grew closer to the car, despite the efforts of the pair. Maela didn't quite understand what was keeping the mother from helping them, given they were being rather heroic, but she reminded herself they weren't putting all this effort in for some useless adult, but the child unfortunate enough to be in her care. That brought little solace as the press of her dead forced her to hop back one car. The hand weapon went back to her belt, the metallic feel of her bow, familiar by now, in her hands, an arrow notched and fire, clean through the socket of a walking corpse, and then another.
"No I can't slow down I can't hold back."
"Though you know I wish I could."
"No there ain't no rest for the wicked, Until we close our eyes for good." The finished the chorus together, even as they were driven back to the last car, their backs slamming against it. Maela finally contemplated her own death, it wasn't like she'd woken up planning to die this day, but then, very few ever did. She suspected this was a good as any. She was back to the hand weapon again, carving into the zombies even as her arm began to tire. A collection of at least five layering the ground around her. The press of the cars on the bridge funneling them, to the advantage of the two humans who could take them on one at a time. Given enough energy and weapons, the dead were no match for the living, but she was running out of the former, and a clumsy swing, followed by a corpse tumbling off the bridge, weapon still buried in is forehead, lost her the latter. She managed to down another by shoving an arrow in its eye, but then it's husk fell on her, dragging her to the floor, sure that it would be moments before another would come to finish the job. It never came though, even if, when Marcus hauled the corpse off her, she was sure he was just another zombie come to eat her face, instead, a welcoming hand lifted her up. To which she surveyed the scene around them.
"We go them all."
"Looks like it."
"Shit...we're good."
"Or, there were less than we thought, either way worth a drink or t--" He was cut short, along with the the child's crying, when a gunshot resounded from the car. Both of them paused for a moment, not quite believing the sound, before Marcus was scrambling towards the window, gazing in, before yelling a curse to the skies, breaking one of the windows with an enraged punch, the fate of the child they had risked their lives to save, sealed. It was some moments before either of them spoke, Maela watching more zombies trickle towards them in the distance, drawn by the shot, in stunned disbelief, although it was her who finally broke the silence.
"Bitch's car looks well stocked, maybe this wasn't all for nothing."
Months Later
Maela watched the stars as she recalled their first of many crazy stands. It had become clear, Marcus wasn't the best survival partner in terms of pragmatism, even if the brute force he brought to the table would be hard to find still among the living, but she thought now it was probably what kept her human, his optimism, or at least morality, in the face of all this darkness. It was after that day she'd started to share her skills, confident he wouldn't abandon her even if he thought he could. From a selfish perspective, she now knew he was the kind that wouldn't just leave her to save himself, it brought some level of personal conflict when she tried to think of what would happen, should the situation be reversed.
The truth was, she didn't know what upset her more, that she would abandon him, or that increasingly, she grew closer to not being able to.