Meg (meganmasters) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-10-19 12:31:00 |
|
|||
The woods were quiet, but Meg had learned a lot about the different kinds of silence in the past year. She’d never been topside during a time period when the whirr of human activity had been stripped away and so much was new now. Had circumstances been different, had the King fallen before this had happened, she might have simply smoked out and gone back home. She knew more than a few demons who’d done just that. Oh they could still possess a body that had been bitten, but even they couldn’t keep the body from rotting around them. She’d only seen a possessed zombie once, and the image had lingered. She wasn’t even sure how much control the poor soul had over its body anymore. She liked to think that, as a demon, it would remain separate from whatever was causing this, but the shambling walk and the relentless way it had pursued her…she wasn’t sure what to think. Either the demon inside had succumb to the virus, or whatever it was, or it was trapped by it. Both were horrible things to consider and Meg did not intend to fall victim to it herself. For the moment, however, the woods seemed to be legitimately empty. No tell tale moans came at her out of the darkness. She’d half expected to draw a crowd with how she’d been standing. Once she’d seen actual lights ahead and thought to stop and check her phone, she’d spent quite awhile simply standing there, leaned against a tree, and talking to people. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d talked to people. She’d run into the odd person on the run here and there through the past year and a half, but this? This was something different. The presence of a large number of living breathing humans was more comforting than she would have thought possible. But then, isn’t this what she’d been hoping for? She’d come out this way, hearing rumors of a settlement and, more importantly, rumors of the Winchesters and an Angel. They weren’t friends. They were barely even allies. But it was something. Even if the Winchesters turned their backs on her, she held some hope that Castiel might still remember her fondly, even if his head was back in order. It might be enough to keep her safe and hidden for awhile. Meg moved through the trees cautiously, aiming for the prison. Dean had said there were cabins in the woods surrounding it and that seemed as likely a place for her to hole up as any. She was both relieved and annoyed that the prison was not an option for her. While she lamented the fact that she wouldn’t be accessing it’s showers, she was more than a little relieved that she wouldn’t be fenced in. A prison was still a prison, even if it did keep people safe. As the lights of the settlement began to filter through the trees, Meg began her search in earnest, but, for far too long in her opinion, she found nothing. Maybe Dean had lied to her. Maybe there were no cabins and he was secretly hoping she’d get lost or bitten. ”Fat chance, Winchester,” she thought with a bit of a snarl on her lips. She hadn’t survived this long just to fall now. Finally, after what she judged must have been about an hour, she saw a roughly square shape ahead of her in the gloom. It’s windows had been boarded up but the door had been kicked in. Not ideal, but she could fix it. As she approached the door, she heard it. The sound she’d been waiting for all night. A slow shuffling of feet through the underbrush and a rattling intake of unneeded breath from somewhere to her left. She spun, crouching low to the ground and reached back to unstrap one of her Morningstar. As they came into view, she did a quick count. Only three. She could handle three. |