Change

I've grown to desensitize the emotion of fear.

How can I not?

I'm living in the literal wasteland of my old world with the constant threat of getting ripped apart by the undead. If I didn't grow to get used to terror then I would've died a long time ago. I don't get unnerved by the bodies as much, nor do I get unnerved by the sounds of groans. It's what I had to do to survive.

But there are a few times, a few moments in time, that sends my system into overdrive.

As I watch the man back up into the car, I knew this will be one of those times.

"I'll get that fucking bitch. That can hurt..." He hissed as he eventually hit the car. With a huff of frustration, he seemed to point his gun back down. His face turned away and most likely watching the broken bodies of the locals rush past him and towards where the exploded car was.

What should I do?

Shakily, I placed my bat down and patted my body. Trying to find my switch knife. If I plan my next actions carefully... I could jump over and stab him in the neck. A somewhat quick way to inflict pain and with his back towards me, he wouldn't notice.

It won't be the first time I've done this, nor will it be the last.

Ever so slowly, I found myself slowly rising up. My blade tightly held in my hand as I cautiously took a step back. My heart seemingly pounding louder in my ears as I ran forward. Wind rushing past me as I jumped.

Time slowed. My heart stopped.

My body slid over the hood of the car as he turned towards me. Pure surprise written all over his body as he scrambled to aim his gun up but it was too late. I rushed forward slashing my knife but he jumped back. He attempted to bring aim his rifle again but I used my right hand to slam it into the car as I ran forward for him. My hand letting go to take another swing but his hand caught my wrist. A gasp left me as he pushed my arm down and slammed his head against my helmet.

It was hard enough to boggle my mind as I stumbled back from the impact. Barely having enough time to react when he took the time to rush at me. A large, gloved hand grasped the front of my helmet only to slam it towards the floor. My footing lost at the sudden disarray allowing him to pin me to the ground.

I couldn't help it.

I screamed. My hand flailing to catch anything with my knife as panic settled in me.

I can't loose now. After all I've been through, this can't be what does me in.

But it looked bleak for me. Easily, he grappled both of my wrist above me as he used his free arm to snuggly place the end of his gun in the middle of my chest. My eyes shutting quickly as I inhaled. Awaiting for the searing pain of getting shot and fully ready to die out right then and there.

And yet.... nothing happened.

All I could hear was heaving. From the both of us.

"W-what...?" I mumbled as I looked up at him.

His expression was cold. Almost emotionless as he said a simple order.

"Don't move."

I gulped as he let go of his rifle to grab the bottom of my helmet. My eyes widening as I realized that he was trying to push it off me.

"I want to look at the face of the bitch who I'm going to kill."

"Fuck you." I spat back. My eyes shutting again as I felt the hunk of plastic lift over my head. Soon I tried to adjust my vision to the sudden change in lighting. All I heard in response was the sudden inhale of air coming from the guy on top of me.

I peaked an eye and caught the sight of dark green muddled in tears. Confusion began to defuse my dread as I watched tears begin to silently leave him. Soon a sob accompanied it as he reached up to pull down his bandanna to reveal a... smile?

"Oh my god it.... it's you?" He spoke, almost as if he was unsure himself as to what he was talking about.

My eyebrows furrowed but I made no attempt to stop him. If crying is the only thing that's preventing my blood to spill the floor than so be it.

He laughed again as his hand went to wipe the tears away.

"You're alive! Holy shit you're alive!"

And now I'm officially lost.

"What do you... Do I know you?" I questioned. Taking the moment to scan his features for anything to signal as to who the hell this is. And admittedly, there was something familiar about him. Maybe it was that patchy dark brown beard of his? or those bushy eyebrows?

Something in me began to stir.

Who is he?

"Wait come on you remember me right? I- Marie-"

"What the fuck how do you know my name?"

"It's because I know you!" He yelled causing me to wince. Almost as if he realized his mistake, his face fell. Soon easing back and moving the gun away. Was he trying to signal that he was friendly...? As he let go of my wrist, I brought them back down. Rubbing the joint knowing it will bruise from how hard he held them.

We stayed in silence for a bit. His face was looking at me expectantly and yet I don't know what to say. It seems that my lack of answer was all that was needed to make him cry harder. Sobs began to escape him as he sat back. A hand going to wipe the tears as he shook his head.

"Dude it's me! You know, your friend!? I..." he bit his lip and almost whimpered, "I don't know what to do..."

I stared at him longer. Eternity passed before something in me clicked. A part of me that I've hidden away began to resurface and along with it, came memories that I tried so hard to bury. I was lost at the sudden onslaught of images of my past. Scanning him once more as I tried to match his face to a name.

"...Bryce?"