"Yeah baby~! Uhmn~!"
Slap! Slap! Slap!
In a missionary, two bodies are deeply intertwined together on the bed.
The man repeatedly pounded the black-haired woman under him like there's no tomorrow, producing that intimate sound between flesh striking against each other.
"You like that huh!?" said the man with excitement and aggressiveness, pinning the woman down with their hands interlocked together as the bed creaked with his every thrust!
"Yes, more! Give me moaaar!"
The woman's voice suddenly became coarse, and her head suddenly snapped towards him, revealing a face covered in blood, with missing bits of flesh and a pair of bloodshot eyes.
"Ahhh!"
The man screamed in horror as he sat straight up from his bed. He frantically looked around him in his panic. His face and body covered in cold sweat, heaving from the lack of air.
"S-sh*t, it's that same dream again and it still won't let me finish!"
The man cursed as he slowly got down from his bed and made his way over to the window. It had a plastic covering, just enough to protect him from the elements outside.
He stood there, gazing outside the window as the moonlight shone upon him, revealing the face of a man around his mid to late twenties.
He's currently in the middle of an unknown forest, hiding inside a small tree house built on the support of two, hundreds of years old large trees that had become intertwined together.
Surrounded by a large swath of forest, the sound of crickets and other creatures were echoing throughout the night.
It has been two months since the outbreak started.
It happened one regular night, people were clubbing, making out with each other at the park, out for a late grocery shopping, having a dinner date or peacefully sleeping in their homes when the disaster struck the cities without any warning.
Dead people suddenly rose from their graves, including those on the wakes and started attacking any living thing in their sight!
Be it a dog, a cat, a rat and most especially, humans!
No one was spared!
Those who got attacked and were bitten or scratched, but had managed to escape from them were oblivious that the virus that caused the dead to rise had already infected them.
It wasn't long before they noticed that there was something wrong with them, but it was already too late to do anything and like their predecessors before them, they also turned into the man-eating monsters that they feared and attacked the people who were the closest to them without any ounce of mercy.
Fortunately, amidst the ensuing chaos, a few doomsday preppers or those who had watched too many zombie apocalypse movies were the first ones to arm themselves and with the event that they had been preparing for all this time finally coming true, these people started fighting back in excitement!
It was followed by the local authorities like the policemen and the firemen.
Before the rest picked up whatever weapons they could find, ranging from knives, baseball bats, iron bars, broken bottles to even rocks!
But since everything had happened so fast that it felt like everything was already planned in advance, the ensuing chaos that followed felt like it was following a script, a prologue of a story, that is.
Even as the army and the national guard finally responded and with technology on their side, cities still fell one by one.
The first ones to go were the poor countries that barely had any standing army, the last ones to fall were the more powerful countries like the United States, Russia, Japan or the mountainous nations like Bhutan.
The remaining troops and survivors that fortified themselves in the cities were eventually overrun and forced to retreat in different directions as the number of bullets spent and the stored food supplies couldn't keep up with the growing expenditure.
Some died during the escape, while the lucky ones who escaped are still surviving to this day.
And I, Michael, is one of those lucky ones, or more accurately speaking, the predecessor of this body.
"I wonder if there are still others out there?" Michael muttered with a hopeful look on his face, before turning around as he eventually went back to bed.
"Shit, I really wonder why I woke up to this unfamiliar world" he again muttered in confusion before slowly closing his eyes and going back to sleep.
The following day.
Michael carefully walked down the flight of wooden stairs that spun around the tree trunk all the way down to the forest floor.
The man has a clean face with clear signs of beard and mustache growing, a pair of hunting pants along with a tight fit camouflage shirt.
His arsenal of weapons is a strapped machete on his waist and a chest holster strapped around his body, containing a pistol.
"It's already the 71st day since the outbreak" mumbled Michael just as his feet touched the ground. He walked over to a table he had made from tree branches and grabbed a wooden cup from a small shelf and filled it with water from a drink dispenser.
He lightly washed his face with it before chugging down the remaining water.
Following that, Michael collected some sticks and branches he had stored from the woodshed, then threw them over to the firepit before starting a fire with a flint.
He made a simple breakfast from the tomatoes and potatoes he had forage around the camp.
His camp is enclosed by a wall made of arm-thick size branches, planks, and a few logs here and there. The wall towered around two meters while securing an area the size comparable to a small regular house, enough for three people to live in and maybe more if they discard comfort.
It was Michael's little safe haven in this world already filled with a lot of crappy leaders from before, then turned even worse.
Before devouring his breakfast, similar to the days before, Michael took off his shirt and started stretching his body and joints.
He got down on the dirt and started working out, starting it with a push-up, a sit-up and finishing it with squats, thirty reps each.
It was something he had been doing since his arrival into this world because he believes that a fit body is your default weapon or equipment if you want to survive the apocalypse in the long run.
Since for obvious reasons, the first ones to go were the fatties during the outbreak.
With the morning exercise out of the way, Michael had his meal.
*****
Michael prepared to go out, armed with a hiking backpack, while strapped with his trustee machete and a pistol, a Glock 17 with 17 rounds and an additional full mag.
Standing before the gate on the wall, he took a deep breath multiple times to ease his nerves. It took him a while to remove the locks since he made sure that it can't be easily opened from the outside.
Walking through the gate, Michael had once again abandoned the safety of his home the moment he stepped out.
Already quite familiar around the area after repeated supply runs, Michael navigated through the forest floor with confidence while remaining cautious around his surroundings.
As someone who once loved travelling across the world and going on hikes on the nations he visited. He had grown quite adept at foraging edible plants across the forest floor. All thanks to the teachings of the locals who he had hiked with.
While he was busy picking up wood sorrel, ground ivies and various berries around the area, the sound of a branch snapping suddenly echoed from behind him.
Snap!
Quickly spinning around, Michael drew his gun and aimed, but just as he was about to pull the trigger, he paused.
Standing before him was a man with shaggy, dark brown hair that appears unkempt, and with piercing blue eyes framed by a perpetually scruffy, stubbled face. The man was wearing a sleeveless grey shirt, paired with cargo pants, sturdy boots and armed with a crossbow aimed at him.
The one thing that really caught Michael's eyes were the dead squirrels slung over the man's shoulder.
"No…freaking way? Daryl?!"
Michael couldn't help but let out a cry of surprise when he saw the man standing before him. He wasn't the only one suddenly feeling confused, the man he called Daryl was also painted with confusion on his face when he heard his name.
Daryl squinted his eyes, staring at Michael with wariness, "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"What in the bloody mess is going on?" Putting his gun down, Michael just outright ignored him as he suddenly started mumbling to himself, his left hand on his chin, looking down.
"Dammit, not only am I stuck in the United States, but I'm actually inside the world of a TV Series. Is this world even real then? Maybe I'm actually in a coma and this is all inside my head?" Such thoughts and actions just made Michael even more confused and looking more like a crazy person with his mumbling
Thwack
An arrow was shot near his feet before he heard Daryl yelling at him. "Hey! Stop talking to yourself! Who are you?!"
Michael was unfazed by the threat, though it did bring him back to the reality of the situation he's in.
He realized he f*cked up when he randomly blurted out the man's name. So, he quickly racked his brain and made up a story that at least sounded believable, for him that is. "I'm Michael. I had a brief encounter with your brother during his biker days before all this shit went down."
Believing him somewhat, Daryl's guarded expression slightly eased and his crossbow, though he lowered it, is aimed at Michael's torso, a progress still.
"You know my brother? But then how do you know me? I don't remember meeting you"
'Well, I didn't expect he'd actually believe that. Isn't he a naive one?'
Michael chuckled and thought of another white lie. "He would mention you from time to time. He even showed me a photo of you once before, that's why I immediately recognized you"
Daryl stared at him, trying to process his words. Though he still looked somewhat unsure if he should fully believe him or not, he decided to fully ease the hostility by further lowering his weapon. "I never knew Merle carried a photo of me. That doesn't sound like him at all"
Michael let out a light snort. "Yeah, such a huge contrast to his tough guy appearance he portrays to people. That dude..he loves his younger brother"
This time, he wasn't lying. He knew that despite Merle's rough exterior and often harsh treatment, he genuinely loves his younger brother, Daryl. Love that is complex and fraught with the baggage of their difficult upbringing.
'Though that bastard is a jerk, he redeemed himself in the end'
Daryl looked at Michael, then at the edibles he had foraged on his bag. "You alone?"
Michael sighed and nodded before he resumed plucking off the berries near him. "Yeah, it's better to move alone, for now"
Daryl just stood there watching him. "What do you mean?"
"Being in a large group increases the dangers and risk, being in one tends to create a lot more noise. Attracting both zombies and other human survivor groups, who tend to be hostile. Well, it only applies to groups above fifty people and anything below that number is still somewhat safe, though it still depends on the cohesion of the group and how well they listen to the warnings of their leader"
Feeling that there's a story behind those words, Daryl couldn't help but to become curious. "How do you know that? Were you an escapee from the city?"
Michael just smiled at him, but in his mind, he answered him. 'No, but I watched the show for quite a while, so I know a thing or two. Though, I'm not sure if those words I said was right since it's been a while since I've finished watching the show'
"..."
Rustle! Rustle!
Following that was an awkward silence between the two. Michael continued foraging with Daryl just watching him. He wanted to say something but kept hesitating.
Michael saw that and smiled. "You standing there like a statue is creeping me out. So, if you have something to say, just spit it out."
Daryl started slightly fidgeting. "We have a small group, probably around 15 people or so. They're camped just two miles from here. Want to come with me?"
Michael turned to him, the question slightly caught him off guard and it took him a moment to process it. When he did, his mouth broke into a grin. Genuinely happy at the offer.
"Yeah? But are you sure?"
"Yeah, Merle would be happy to see a familiar face"
Michael smiled mysteriously at those words.
'Hmmm, if this is the episode where Daryl is making his way back to the camp, then I don't think Merle and I would be seeing each other soon. I just didn't expect that our camps are actually not far from each other. Must because I never bothered to check the maps carefully'
Though he already knew what might unfold later, Michael didn't show it on his face and acted oblivious to it. "Familiar face huh? That'd be great. Do you mind if we head back to my camp first and pack my supplies?"
Daryl shrugged. "Sure, why not. Lead the way"