Lol- for once I wasn't lazy, and drew the gouges that are on his face.

Tryna claw your own eyes out would do that to a person.

_____________________

Spending time sitting against the floor was in not something you would like to keep doing.

It gave a momentary break, yes, and the calmness of it was appreciated, but the hard floor made your butt sore.

Your legs were itching to keep moving- keep being used for their one and only purpose.

The hunter beside you didn't at all seem to care about your anxious want to walk. Every content rumble he made, and the occasional rub of his chin against the top of your head, and he appeared all the ready to keep sitting there in your presence.

Admittedly, he wasn't so bad when he wasn't trying to rip your throat out, but thinking that immediately reminded you that you convinced this group of survivors that he wasn't a threat.

Which he most definitely was.

The bite mark on your arm was more then enough to prove that. Walking left him nippy and albeit passive, but if any of them tried to run, they'd be exchanging greetings with the floor.

And he'd be exchanging greetings with twenty or so lead bullets.

Bringing your head into your hands with a hefty slunch of your back only made the ever pointed glare more prominent feeling.

Bill did not help your mental state.

With a small groan of boredom, you leaned backwards, looking up to the busted ceiling.

As if insulation and cracked tiles could help you.

Waiting for the break to be over was the only thing you had running for you.

And wait you did.

Twelve- maybe fourteen minutes you waited? Every so often adjusting position to help alleviate the soreness you felt. The three more sociable group members were relatively quiet, only every once and a while striking up conversation.

But, in due time, Bill spoke up, gaining the group's attention. His gun, ever in his grip, was raised in a more battle ready position, and he pushed himself off the wall.

"Alright- breaks over. We need to keep moving if we want to make it in time."

A choir of shuffling bodies and clicking guns followed after, no noises of disagreement made. Bill clearly assumed the leading position in this group.

Slowly making your way up, you stretched your legs, feeling the soreness in them only increase as blood flow was once again regained.

You pushed through, walking closer to the group with a gentle clang of the hunter chain.

"Aye!"

You stopped in your tracks.

"Two feet away- I'm watching you."

Not needing to be told twice, you began to back up, but Bill spoke again, "Your walking in the front of the group- can't have your damn hunter pull a quick on."

Immediately redirecting yourself to the door, you stood cautiously in front of it, watching as the others made a line behind you, Bill at the front, and keeping a clear distance from you.

"Before we leave, I just want you to know that..." you paused looking to the hunter crouched at your feet, "He clears the way for me, so please don't shoot at any infected close to me."

The three behind Bill instantly seemed more interested, but Bill's stone cold face contrasted with his permanent seriousness.

"Of course." Louis was the first to speak, Zoey agreeing soon after, "Sure."

A small silence passed the room.

"Don't tempt me."

Everyone stood deadly still, craning necks to look at the source of the voice.

With a several double takes at Francis, you all but burst into laughter, "Oh My God- HAHA- You sound like my dad!"

Zoey and Louis joined into your guffaws as soon as the words left your mouth, looking to Francis as though him ever possibly being a dad was the most absurd thing they'd ever heard.

Francis didn't at all seem offended by the laughter, the small quirk of his lips was if anything speaking of amusement- or maybe pride that he spurred everyone into laughing this hard.

"Alright- admittedly I am the hot and badass dad type- but let's settle down now ladies."

Louis let out a small noise of protest, before chuckling some more, and all of your laughs had begun to subside.

Bill, while unhappy looking, didn't interrupt the groups joyful moment- understanding that moral is important and that having -admittedly- that cheery of an atmosphere was a pleasant thing to be around.

He simply huffed, letting the sharp pointedness to his voice drop into a softer tone, "Alright, alright, settle down, we need to keep moving."

You smiled, unlatching the door with a bit of fumbling and craning the metal coated wood back.

The infected outside had clearly heard the laughing, and were already there to greet you, but the moment they set foot in the room, your hunter had worked his magic of flaying their bodies.

A bite there, and rip there, and five to six bodies lay in the door.

Blood was once again smeared all over his chin, and quite suddenly the group became rather intense feeling.

They all, aside from Bill, looked a bit nervous. Nervous that he could easily rip a leg off- or just as easily rip out a vital artery.

"Ha-... haha- so yeah." You said, looking from the pile of bodies and back to the survivors, "That's how I've survived so long on my own."

Your foot made the first tentative steps over the pile, hunter carelessly treading over them and after you.

"He's saved me from a smoker once- damn slimy things."

The group was still silent.

Twisting your head to look back at them, dread was already beginning to boil in your stomach.

Was there too much blood?

Was he too aggressive?

Are they going to hurt him?

They can't hurt him- we've come too far.

The grip on your gun tightened as you met with their eyes.

Do I-...

Do I need to take them out before they take us out.

You swore Bill could almost read your mind- the crouch in his body and the way he eyed the look that had smeared itself across your face.

He knew.

"Convenient." Zoey chirped, any previous tension that had built up shattering around you as your grip loosened.

It was safe.

But Bill had known.

He just had to have known what you were thinking.

"Yup." You tried your best to chirp back to the red jacketed female, "Definitely."

He read your face like book- and everything about your previous expression was dipped with the readiness to kill.

Without farther ado, you turned back around and took in the sights.

The subway was wrecked, floor caving in and leaving a gaping hole to the next room below us.

There were a few fires burning on the small pieces of flammable parts still left, and in general everything was in shambles.

You hovered near the edge looking down the hole.

You really didn't want to jump down.

What if you twisted an ankle?

Or what if it would lead to a dead end?

"Just jump."

Bill's gruff voice reminded you, and for a few uncertain seconds you kept looking down.

Without further ado, you sat on the edge and let yourself slide off.

With unwavering loyalty, your hunter followed, chain thankfully not getting stuck on anything.

When your feet made contact with the ground you could feel your weight jolt your knees, but thankfully nothing hurt.

The two or three infected that were still straggling behind charged you. Out of reaction, you shot one, but strolled past as the other two were quickly swept up with a growl and swing.

You took one last glance up at your group, before making your way towards the stairs. You didn't bother to wait for them to jump.

They have to keep moving, so they'd do it eventually.

Well enough, you heard Bill make the jump.

Soon after Zoey.

Then Louis, and Francis lastly.

As long as you didn't focus on the noises they made, it almost felt like it was just you and your hunter. Up against the world.

It was a calming thought.

Bleck- why did you think that.

Down steps, past the baffle gates, and eventually back up another set of stairs to where the subway tracks were.

Even just the small shooting from the group's guns at the various infected was blowing your eardrums out.

They clearly didn't know what stealth was.

There were so many infected in such a short amount of time, and you swore it was from the excessive gunfire.

You couldn't put it against them, they were defending themselves without the use of a hunter, but the constant ringing was a surefire way to go deaf.

Your companion didn't take to it all that much either. He'd flinch and jolt around every time their bullets flew, even going as far as to scratch at his ears.

You put up with it, and pushed onward.

From atop the train, a few hacking coughs were released, smoke oozing off of a tall figure.

You let out a short call, "Smoker!"

Bill was the first to respond, raising his automatic and letting off a few spurts of bullets.

Sure enough, a wheeze of smoke burst out into the subway, blurring your vision as you walked through it.

With all the noise, and all the infected, it couldn't be left up to your hunter to take things out. The gun in your hands was frequently raised and fired, taking out bodies that slipped past your hunter.

"I hate trains." Francis's voice was faint from so far behind.

Pursing your lips, you kept walking, making your way onto the train, your hunter jumped atop the seats, crawling and sniffing around. You kept walking, glancing back as the group paused, waiting for your hunter to keep moving.

Bill being Bill.

Turning forwards, you rolled your eyes, stepping off into the train tracks with an 'oof' at the drop distance.

To little to late you supposed.

The gurgling blubs of noise that lingered just outside the train wasn't recognized until after you dropped.

One moment your looking back, the next your turning to see a mass of bubbling flesh, the smell that wafted out of the mutated body was gag worthy as you all but chocked on the smell itself.

You didn't have enough time to defend yourself from what it did next.

It vomited, all over  you, grime sticking to you with its fowl odor.

Backing away from the source, you hit the pavement with the back of your calf, nearly falling as as you tried to wipe the puke off your blinded eyes.

No amount of smearing and rubbing was helping, if anything it seemed to make it worse.

You heard gunshots, the sound of an fleshy explosion.

Even more puke splattered onto you, and by this point you had all but backed yourself against a wall, eyes closed as you tried to wipe it off your face.

The screaming that came after, gods above, the hoard's battle cry shot a chill down your spine.