As I’ve said before, I’ve been here for ten years now. When I first came I thought I would be done with my four years with no issues. I was wrong. I got beat up my first day here for looking “wrong” to the biggest guy in prison. His gang tattoos spoke to his character. He was at least 6’5” and his arms like tree trunks. They hurt being hit by them, too. I crawled to the “medical center” aka a cell refurbished to look like a hospital room. Turns out mr. big and bad had broken four of my ribs and my jaw bone. Let me just say for the record, prison food being force fed down your throat with a tube is not fun. What really got me was that no one in prison believed that I was a trained assassin and could kill mr. big and bad had I really wanted, too. That’s also the reason why I was supposed to be locked up for so long, I was caught killing the man that my wife was cheating on me with. I’ve killed about 15 people, some for no other reason than someone was paying me. I’ve talked myself into escaping; let’s do this.

I slowly and silently shuffle closer to the cell door. I stop every few steps to make sure the Things haven’t noticed me. I feel the soft, withered skin of the cold, dead hand holding the key crumple beneath my own hand. A few of the Things shuffle closer investigating the slightest sound I make. I grip the hand again and slowly pull it from the key. It glides off like oil trying to mix with water. I turn the key and slowly open the cell door. The Things straggle over, but I am already making my way down the hall, passing others who are too scared to come out of the corners of their cells but aren’t timid enough to make a great deal of noise. The Things start towards me slowly and start gaining speed. I break into a run and don’t look back. I hear the gurgling noises as the Things start to fall over each other in their search for a kill. I hear the Things tripping down the stairs but I don’t have time to look back. What floor am I on? I just keep heading down, down ,down, trippin, trying to get away from the hoard of Things following close behind me … I burst through a door, having no particular destination in mind and just keep running.
I make it outside and am blinded by the sunlight. When was the last time I saw it? Over ten years I guess, since the world turned to crap. I slow to a jog as the Things seemed to have slowed down and continue onward into the thick forest, darkness follows close behind. I climb up and hide in a tree and watch as the Things slow to a lumber and start to turn back. I see former prison mates flowing out of the steel door, encouraged by my escape, and having used me as bait to make their getaway, leaving the most timid behind to rot in their cells. The Things start to realize their meals in waiting have started to get away, they start to run toward their fare, screaming at the prisoners. Some are shocked and stop, turning toward the sounds, it’s a deadly mistake to make. To see some of my fellow prisoners get ripped limb from limb, and their muscles shredded from their bones...was quite comforting. They had cowardly drawn attention to me so they could try their escape...

I walk and try to find a weapon. Anything to protect me from attack. Fallen trees sit on the soft ground waiting, decomposing. Trees stand tall, fighting to see the sunlight. I climb an oak tree. I feel its sturdiness beneath my hand and feet as I find old knotted holes to pull myself upwards into the clouds. I scan the horizon for any signs of life or buildings. All I see is trees stretched as far as I can see. I hear scratching from below me and hide within the branches. I look down expecting to see Things. A bear cub is trying to claw its way up the tree as if to greet me. I am warmed by the sight that at least something is still surviving in the outside world. The cub looks up at me with hurt eyes searching for food and shelter. “Join the club of the survivors” I talk to the cub who stares at me with no sign of understanding. I sit in my tree post and the cub sits with me. We sit in silence for hours waiting for the cubs mother. She never came. We stay the night in the nook of our tree. The next morning we climb down together. We scavenge for food, but with no luck. We continue on deeper into the woods searching for food and a place to stay for just another night.

It’s been three days since I left the safety of my tree. The bear cub ran away from me when I left to go into the river to go fishing. I speared one small salmon with a semi-pointed stick I found lodged in the ground. I couldn’t start a fire because the kindling was soaked from the recent rain. I’m not sure if it is good to eat a raw fish during the apocalypse but too late now. I continue traveling without stopping for hours. The fish burned in my stomach and became a constant reminder of how little I had going for me.

The three little birds that used sing were gone, nowhere to be seen or heard. At night I climb a strong tree near by and rest. The next morning I am woken by Things screaming at each other after what I can only imagine was a kill. I hear the Things off in the distance, far enough to make an escape but not to much time to do so. I climb down from my overnight safe haven and leave it behind, not planning on returning anytime soon.
I’ve been wandering for days now, trying to keep my eyes on the horizon. I occasionally hear some Things straggling behind me but if I walk slow enough they walk right past me, not turning an eye. I hear nothing as I continue onward, I am deep in the woods now and completely alone just me and my thoughts.
I think of the family I gave up when I was arrested, my three little girls crying when I was cuffed and pushed into the cop car. My ex-wife was distraught not over the fact that I was arrested but that I had killed her secret lover. She should have known I would have found out eventually and the action I would take against him. I think back to her first visit to the jail, a big manila envelope clutched to her chest, big red letters DI on it was all I could see. I knew it was only a matter of time before she came but I didn’t expect it to take her 5 months to get the divorce papers. She glared at me with such hatred it’s amazing I didn’t burst into flames. Even the guard had to look away. Other jail mates were doing the stereotypical hand to hand split by glass seen in so many tv shows. My ex-wife tried to stab me with the pen when she shoved it through the slot in the glass that separated myself from this psycho. I’ve been able to see my daughters once since I was arrested. They cried but then my ex-wife yelled at my oldest one and smacked her. I punched the glass so hard three of my knuckles broke and visitation hours for me were cut off. Every week I could hear my fellow inmates crying or laughing with their relatives or friends while I was stuck in my cell, alone and always cold. I didn’t miss my witch of a wife just my three little girls who I would never be able to see again…

I am jolted from my thoughts when I walk right into a low hanging tree branch, its thick, rough bark raking against my skin, soft and weak from the lack of exposure to the elements. It stings and I rub at it trying to get it to not sting as much, it doesn’t work. I realize I am being trailed by a few Things. They seem to take little interest in me so I keep walking. My thoughts don’t drift again, I have to stay focused on the task at hand, surviving. I amble around for what seems for hours when I stop and rest in a tree nearby. Nothing disturbs me while I take a short, much needed nap. When I wake night has fallen and I am alone. Nothing stirs and the night is silent. The bats that usually fly about are nowhere to be seen, the squirrels are done burrowing in their nests for the night so I know I can move without being disturbed or seen by any Things that may be scraggling in the woods.
I walk until I come to a fork in the deer trail I have been following, I guess I will take the road less traveled by. I walk on, deeper and deeper into the ever darkening forest. I hear the occasional rustle of leaves as tiny animals scurry past me. I rest in a tree for another night and wake in the morning not to the sound of birds but to the sound of angry people. I look down and see about five guns pointed up my tree three of which are aimed right at my head.

“Who are you and how did you find your way into our camp?” a burly man with a scruffy beard hollers up at me.
“I did not realize I was in your camp, my apologies. But if you would let me stay here for a few days it would be much appreciated.” I was finally able to sleep somewhat soundly through the night for the first time since I left the jail and I wasn’t going to give it up without a little negotiation. I slowly started to climb down my tree, “Don’t shoot I am just coming down to talk so we don’t have to yell at each other.”
“Alright. Everybody put your guns down.” A few grumbles emerge from the group but they lower their guns. Now I can see that there are two women and three men who all were very intimidating. One by one they introduce themselves. The first woman is Layla. She has tight curls pulled flat into a bun, her face is caked with dirt and her shirt has tear marks along the side. Beatrice has straight hair pulled back into a ponytail held together by a piece of tattered twine that frays out on the ends. She isn’t nearly as dirty as Layla but she is still dirtier than me. The burly man who first hollered up at me is Mike. He is about six foot six and his beard looks more like a birds nest than a beard. Joe is one of the other men who is also caked in dirt. He holds his finger on the trigger of his gun and looks around frantically, like he is expecting something. Caden is the last one to introduce himself, his deep voice booms in the silent forest. He is the cleanest one of the group and has his gun slung over his shoulder like he had nothing to worry about.
“We’ve told you who we are now tell us who you are.” Mike’s voice is powerful but not like Caden’s.
“I’m Luke, an escaped prisoner and a trained assassin, so Joe if you would please lower your gun I would be much more comfortable.” Joe glares at me but lowers his gun and takes his finger off the trigger. He speaks his voice low and firm,
“Sorry I didn’t realize it would bother you, but if you please, don’t ever tell me what to do again!” His voice crescendoed as he spoke. Caden clasps his hand on Joe’s shoulder and turns himself and Joe away from the group. I can’t hear what they are saying but when they turn around Joe is glaring at Caden like it was his job. The women have not spoken yet but both look like they want to say something but have been instructed not to.
“Where are y’all going?” my voice is steady even though I am still a little weary of Joe.
“Wherever we can find shelter from this storm that has taken over the world.” it is Layla who speaks, her voice quiet and shaky. “Right now our safe haven is this clearing in the woods which you have felt the need to jeopardize its safety.”
“I already apologized and told you I didn’t realize this was your camp. Now unless you want me to come with you, I will just be going on my way.”
Their group huddles up and discusses for a few minutes, occasionally looking back at me. I turn to go away when Joe’s voice shocks me.
“You can stay with us if you want, but we can’t completely trust you yet. We need you to hand over all of your weapons for the next two or three days before we can trust you even a little.”
I hand over one small knife that I picked up off a dead guy, my other small knife safely concealed under my clothing. They are crazy if they think a trained assassin would give up all of his weapons to a group that will probably stay with him for only a few days. They lead me into the clearing. I see no sign of any set up camp but I follow along anyway. Joe and Caden break apart from the group to go and search the outside area around the camp. I stay with the rest of the group, the girls eyes trained on me, daggers stabbing me in the back. Mike stays quiet but keeps his eye on the girls, their hands loosely grasping their knives, he knows they could snap at any second. Joe and Caden return saying everything is fine and the perimeter is secured. Mike speaks first,
“We need to re-set up camp so we can be ready to leave in the morning, there are signs The Things have been near here recently. We need to start moving first thing tomorrow. You can come with us or you can stay here but the choice needs to be made tonight, we can’t be waiting on your decision in the morning. So what is it, are you staying with us or are you going to play lone ranger and be macho man?”
I sit in silence contemplating my chances of survival when I am alone or with this group. I think I can do better alone but I could use the help of numbers.
“I’ll stay with you guys for a while, until something goes wrong. Then it is all men for themselves. Got it?” I get a few disgruntled noises from the girls and Joe but nothing from Caden.
“Welcome to the group then!” Mike says with a new found energy. “If you are going to stay with us then you need to help build the camp.”

“Let’s get going then, before it gets too dark to work.” This is the first time Beatrice speaks, her voice low and rough like she is recovering from a bad cold. Her eyes are gun metal gray with no true sign of any happiness what so ever. Layla’s eyes at least have some fire down in their brown depths. We start collecting wood to support the sheet Mike has in his bag. It is dusk by the time we finish but at least we have shelter. I sleep near the outside of the shelter we have created, not wanting to disturb the peace. Layla and Mike snuggle closer than anybody else, Joe sleeps on the other side of Layla and Mike as far from me as possible. Caden and Beatrice spoon clearly showing the need for warmth, they sleep next to me. I cannot sleep not knowing what could happen if I do. I think of all of my recurring nightmares that have haunted me for years, not wanting to sleep was not a new thing for me.When I wake it feels like I have been asleep for five minutes, which isn’t that shocking as it has happened before. The rest of the group is just waking up, groggily stretching and rubbing their eyes.

“I’ll pack up the tent.”
“I’ll start the fire.”
“We’ll get food.” Mike, Joe, and Caden all look at me and I nod and we leave the girls to begin the hunt for our morning meal. We trudge through the woods not wanting to disturb anything that could potentially be food. We see a few squirrels but nothing substantial enough to waste our limited energy chasing down. I hear a tree limb snap, I turn expecting to see one of my guys but I am greeted by a Thing. It hasn’t noticed me yet so I leave it be, there is no need to attract anymore of them. We continue walking, our hopes for food dwindling. We stop in a small clearing and each of us climb trees scoping out our little section of forest. I see some movement nearby and climb higher to see if I can see what it is. I see a small fawn and her equally small mother. Although small both would make excellent food for this morning. I climb down and tell the guys where I am going. Mike and Caden raise their knives, Joe has his gun already hoisted on his shoulder. Our plan is to box the deer in and try to get at least one. We edge closer to the two and wait for Mike’s signal. Mike waits until the deer begin eating the already short grass. He gives the signal and we start to move in, edging closer and closer. The mother deer looks up startled but doesn’t run. She can’t, Caden has already slit her throat. The baby calf looks up and tries to run but like its mother can’t, Joe has shot it in the head, a clean shot, not wasting any meat. We gut the animals and carry the bodies back to camp. The girls have the fire started and the tent is rolled up neatly, resting next to the log the girls are sitting on. We slice up the meat and start cooking. When I first taste the deer it is tough and gamey but soon I don’t care about the taste, I just want to get rid of the gnawing hunger in my gut. It soon becomes nothing. We stamp out the fire and start out, a new hunger has consumed the group. We all want to find a substantial camp and finally be able to settle down. We all have our doubts but the deer in our stomachs relit that fire that once dwindled into the dying embers. The walking never seems to end, we travel for who knows how long. No Things are around.