It’d been a long day and Ryan wanted nothing more than to just lay his head down and rest. Although, how could he sleep peacefully when the dead were walking? His legs grew tired and his ruck sack grew heavier as he continued on through the woods, taking down walkers with his Beretta M9 as he made his way. There was a shift in the wind as he shoved his ruck sack from his shoulders and plopped down onto a tree stump. The soldier rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake as he skimmed his surroundings for a source of food or water. A faint sound of water trickling could be heard in the distance. Forcing himself upright, he threw his sack back onto his aching shoulder’s as he followed the sound.
It hadn’t been too far from where he took a rest. A slow-current river dividing the land revealed itself as he plopped onto his knees, splashing the chilled water into his face. Ryan had the urge to drink it, but he couldn’t risk it. He knew that the water could be contaminated. Unzipping his sack, he pulled out a worn pot and placed in onto the floor. His plan was to boil the water, so he could rid it of possible contaminants. Following the pot, came matches. His feet ached, but he pushed himself back upright so that he could look for possible tinder.
A faint rustle in the bushes put him on high alert as he aimed his gun toward the movement, awaiting whatever it was to emerge. “I wouldn’t try anythin’ stupid, not with a gun pointed to yer’ head." He scoffed as he watched a medium sized women emerged with pursed lips and a weapon of her own.
