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You've been wandering through the woods for days, fending off the walkers alone, desperate to find some form of human life. You left your old group to get help, telling them you'll return in a few hours, but you never did. They sent a search party out for you during the day you left, but all they could find of you was a few shreds of fabric from your cop uniform here and there. Eventually, they gave up on you, and all they could do was pray that you didn’t become one of the undead.
You creep through the woods, trying not to make too much noise. You can never be too careful anymore, and you know you'll never be completely safe again, not in what's left of this hell on earth. You venture on through the greenery, pushing branches out of your path to clear the way. Your hair clings to your forehead, bonded by the sweat forming along your brow, and you brus your hair back and wipe at the sweat, freezing when you hear the sound of leaves crunching under someone’s feet.
Your best bet is that it's a walker. You pull your pistol out of your holster, even though you've had no ammo for what feels like weeks. You can’t part with it, not with the gun that's saved you on more than one occasion. You hold your ground and raise your gun, preparing to club a walker over the head with it when it trudges past if needs be.
“Whoa, don’t shoot!”
A deep southern accent surprises you. You take one look at the man standing before you. He has his hands held up in surrender, showing no sign of a threat to you. He's tall, muscular, too. Rather attractive, actually. You study him for a moment before eventually lowering your gun, slowly. Of course, you know it isn’t loaded, but he doesn’t.
“Are you alone?”
You ask, sliding your gun back into its holster when you're sure he won't make any sudden moves, but your hand remains hovering above the weapon.
“No. Well, I’m alone at the minute. Are you alone?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You're still judging whether you can trust him or not. You don't want to give yourself away and reveal anything he can see as a potential weakness, and so you evade his question.
“I’m part of a camp just outside these woods. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I just met you. For all I know, you could be lying to me.”
You keep a straight face and study him closely. Then, he lets out a sigh, slumping his shoulders before he looks back in your direction.
“Look, us survivors need to stick together. I ain’t gonna hurt you, darlin’. I’m tryna help ya." he extends a hand out to you, and you glance down at it, warily, "I’m Shane.”
“I’m (Y/N).”
You eventually reply, taking his hand. He has quite a firm grasp, the kind that can crush a few bones if he applies too much force.
“I’ll take ya back to my camp, if ya wanna come, that is.”
You aren’t sure if you're ready to accept an offer like this from a total stranger, but like Shane said, survivors need to stick together. Plus, it's been days since you've been around other people, and you know you can definitely use both the help and company now more than ever.
“I’d like that.”
You begin to make your way back to camp with Shane. It's risky, putting your trust in a stranger, but it can hopefully all turn out to be worth it in the end.
“How long were you out there for?”
Shane breaks the silence between the two of you. Might as well get to know each other now.
“A good few days. I went looking for help. Never went back to my old group.”
You avoid eye contact with Shane, keeping your responses brief.
“Why?”
Shane glances at you, but he looks away a second or two later, praying you don't notice. Pretty girl, he thinks to himself.
“Guess I’m an independent person. Before all this, I didn’t particularly like it when I had a partner either.”
“Wait, partner?”
Shane stops walking for a moment, and he looks at you, bemused. You match him, folding your arms, and you nod, slowly.
“Yeah, I was a cop before all of this.”
“No shit, so was I.” he flashes you a pearly smile, probably the most dazzling one you've seen in a long while, “I should’ve guessed from the uniform ya wearin’ there.”
“That would explain the broken nose.” you chuckle and hold his gaze, “Yeah, I did notice.”
“You’ll have to come on a run with me sometime. I could use a good shot to cover my back. I’m assuming that ya got a good shot on ya, anyway.”
“You’re damn right I’m a good shot. But pairing up with you? I don’t deal well with partners, so we’ll have to see about that when I know you better.”
You tease, continuing to follow him to his camp. You know you'll be paired up when the other members of his camp find out about your common ground, and you know you won’t object to it, either. After all, survivors need to stick together, and you're grateful to have found somebody on par with you.