Chapter 1. Little did she know 

*Snap* *Crunch* *Crunch* Rudy had been walking down the Blue sky trail since 11:30 in the morning. Even in this situation she had to appreciate the beauty of the scenery. She had been so used to an evil landscape that had resembled many of otto Dix's works that she had lost the ability to appreciate the natural beauty of things. She had seen deer and squirrels during her walk, and who would have thought that before she went on the path she had wondered, “Why would somebody waste their time by walking alone?” Sadly, her adventure on the trail was hardly by choice.  

Thankfully Rudy had a backpack filled with 2 days of rations, a hat, a diary, a pack of matches, 2 magazines with a bullet, her water bottle, half a flask of whiskey, a hammer, a beat up pack of cigarettes, and ¾ of a bottle of Advil. She decided to speed up, because of the silence, silence was never a good sign in such a chaotic world. 

“Dear diary, Guy is dead. He went on a supply run and when he didn’t come back, I had gone looking for him. When I found him, I had to use a bullet. On my way back I took his truck back to the camp, but some snappers followed me back and everyone fled into different directions like a murder of crows before the snappers alerted a horde. Lesson learned, don’t use cars unless it's an emergency. Grant said that this thing would help with stress I guess he was right. Thank you, Grant, may someone give you mercy. I hope I can make it to another camp. I should probably be more worried about that because I doubt, I'll last long on my own, or in a forest. I hope someone made it.” 

Priorities  

1.Live 

2.Escape 

3.Shelter 

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4.Get some weapons 

5.Food 

The hours of the day seemed to have drifted away like an hourglass. After walking the path she would be free to the confines of Roswell Georgia, at least what's left of the town. Rudy has sat down with a crunch of leaves. Rudy pulled out a crumbled beat of matchbox. The wore down box had creases and marks that made it look like someone had stepped on it 100 times and then decided to step on it 100 more. 

*Tack* She lit one of her last matches in the vacant box and held it close to some tinder and built it up to a sizzling fire, then she lit a cigarette  

“Ha 3 away from the lucky cig aye”, Rudy said to herself with a somber smile. 

There was a small orange fire. It was flickering its dark orange color on the pines surrounding. You could hear the pops and sizzles of the fire. Rudy took a swig of a golden brown liquid that was considered holy in troubled times. She took a strong swig of whiskey from her flask, and she tried to sleep. Rudy always felt the stiff imprint of a gun in her hands as she fell asleep on the gravel ground. Rudy didn’t dream the alchohol doesn’t help. Sleep was never deep.  

Rudy woke up to a noise and a smell. Thankfully not a sight or a feeling. Rudy heard a screeching noise that was worse than dragging your nails on a blackboard. She smelled the famished dead that reeked of the festering black despair. 

Rudy ran. Rudy had ran until her muscles throbbed and her mouth was dry. She ran until she had the lying feeling that things would be ok.  

When Rudy Stopped running to take a tired and bedraggled breathe of air. “ I should have walked longer, I could have slept less, I would have run faster if I hadn’t just woken up” 

Rudy kept blaming herself for almost dying. She desperately thought that she should have been more careful, but she had to keep moving. Self pity wouldn’t chase away the bogey man. So, she kept going, only this time she walked faster. The drizzle that encompassed the ever reaching sky fitted the mood of disappointment. 

After an hour it was 7:46 and the golden hour was coming. The trees were drab grey and drearily dull. The canopies were fading away and the waterlogged leaves were matted to the ground like they had been painted there. A few hours had passed of the relentless, rhythmic, and unfaltering walk that Rudy had set herself to.  

Little did she know that someone was watching her.