Time: 6:45 pm
Location: Hell (unknown)
Transportation: Nothing or I guess legs…
Days to destination: Are you kidding? No $%&*!@# idea!
Infected in sight: Several close by. Larger herd nowhere in sight
Survivors: Am I still alive? I forgot that I was
Clint sat on the side of the road. He was tired. No he was exhausted. Two hours had passed since Benny and the horse took off. Or maybe it was three...no four….no 20 minutes.
He stared down into the dirt and watched as a colony of ants scurried back into their anthill with pieces of flesh from the corpse that lay near his feet.
“At least you’re getting fed.” He grumbled under his breath. He picked up a stick and poked at the tiny bugs. They scrambled away in a mad hurry.
Clint then took the stick and stabbed it into the anthill and stirred it up with dirt. The ants continued to run around in circles.
That’s what Clint felt like he was doing. He was sure he had passed the same field three times now. But how could he really be sure? He didn’t pay attention at the time.
His stomach grumbled.
“Oh shut up. We had that worm earlier.” Clint snapped.
His stomach grumbled again, louder.
“I said be quiet.” Clint said.
“OK! FINE! HAVE IT YOUR WAY!” Clint shouted. He reached down and grabbed a handful of dirt and ants and stuffed it into his mouth.
He then swallowed and leaned back on his arms.
“Happy?” he asked.
He then stared out into the field that lay before him.
Several infected stumbled in it totally unaware of his presence despite his shouting seconds before. They were too far off and the wind blew away from them so they couldn’t smell him.
Clint clenched his teeth.
Now totally pissed off, Clint stood up and stormed off down the deserted street.
The infected in the field noticed him and started to follow. Clint looked over his shoulder when he heard their hungry snarling. They were far off and not a problem.
Clint clenched and unclenched his fists.
A small frog suddenly hopped from the side of the road and stopped several feet in front of him. Clint stared at it.
Its throat bulged out.
His stomach grumbled again. He looked at the frog. It rubbed its large eye.
Clint licked his lips.
The next thing he knew, he had the frog in his hands and stuffed it into his mouth.
It was very chewy, very wet, and very gross. Clint forced himself to swallow. The slime from the frog still clung in his throat.
He took a step forward then stopped.
His stomach lurched.
Clint suddenly didn’t feel so good. He fell to his knees. He let out a sickly groan and choked.
Then he vomited.
Then he vomited again.
Everything came back up: the dirt, the ants, the worm, and the frog.
He looked at it. The nasty mess made him vomit again.
He then sat there panting.
Footsteps behind him made him turn around to see the infected were now on the road. There were at least three. The others were still in the field but still walked his way.
Clint got to his feet and started to walk down the road again. His pace was slower than before but he was still faster than the infected who stumbled slowly, arms reaching for him.
He still didn’t feel so good. When was the last time he had actually eaten real food? New York probably. Or was it before then? Before this whole thing happened?
An infected person on the road in front of him turned and snarled. It reached for his arm but he just pushed it away from him and kept walking. It hissed as it fell back into the barrow pit. One of its legs snapped off and it fell flat on its back. It still reached for him and snarled.
Clint ignored it.
The wind picked up slightly. He hunched his shoulders to block out the cold but it did no good. He looked around for a sign that would hopefully lead to a town where he could sleep for the night. And hopefully find food that was better then what he ate before. Thinking about it made his stomach hurt again.
“Ugh.” He groaned.
He had to swallow to keep the bile from rising up.
The sun started to sink lower on the horizon. Clint realized he needed to find a place to hunker down and catch his breath for a few days.
He scanned the landscape and saw nothing but fields. The road he was on seemed to go on for miles. Looks like he was walking through the night. Again.
“That’s okay. Who needs sleep? Certainly not me at this point. Am I right Benny?” Clint asked looking around for his husky companion only to remember.
“Oh, that’s right. I’m alone. I’ll always be alone. Everybody else on the planet is dead or one of those things.” He mumbled to himself. “So yeah, dead.”
By now it was dark. Clint shivered as a cold chill ran down his spine. He really needed to find a safe place to sleep. Maybe he could lie in the field?
First thing that would happen is those walkers following him would tear into him like a dog on a meat covered bone.
Second option: he could keep walking until he found another town and get onto one of the roofs.
Great plan except, how far was the next town? Clint knew he didn’t have the energy to walk all night long or to fight off any more attacking walkers.
He could just sit down on the middle of the street and wait for tiredness and hunger to kill him off. If the walkers didn’t get to him first, that would be the first thing he would do.
“Survive for me.”
Barney’s voice whispered in his head.
Clint let out a quiet gasp.
“I will. I promise.”
Clint gripped the arrow head around his neck. The arrow that his brother had given to him before he-. Clint closed his eyes.
He couldn’t stop now. People were depending on him.
I will Barney. I promise I will. He thought. Natasha, I will for you too.
Clint then started to run. He ran faster than he ever had before. It hurt but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.
He had promises to keep and he was a man of his word.
Okay, now he had to stop running. He couldn’t breathe.
Clint bent over and put his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
He had no idea how long he’d been running or how far. All he knew was that he never came across a town or anything. The good thing about it was he’d left the infected far behind him.
Clint looked around in the dark trying to get a good look of his surroundings. Nothing but darkness. He cursed under his breath and started to walk again.
Something suddenly caught his eyes. A small glimmer off a roof or shed or… Clint squinted his eyes and peered closer.
A gas station.
Clint had to blink several times to make sure it wasn’t his imagination. No there was a gas station. Clint almost cheered but he didn’t dare. There could be other infected nearby and he didn’t have the strength to fight them off.
He stumbled towards it gasping for air. It was only a few meters up so he reached it in no time.
There was a sign on the gas prices that read:
No more gas.
Clint didn’t need gas, he needed shelter.
He went up to the door and saw it was unlocked.
“Thank you gas manager.” He said and went inside.
The place was deserted as far as he could tell. There were no infected. Or to his dismay any food. But there was a few jugs of water left. At least 8.
Clint drank them all.
He then wandered around to see if it would be safe to spend the night.
He was the only one in here.
He let out a relieved sigh and sat down where he was. He was just about to close his eyes when he saw a corpse laying a few feet away.
Its brains had been blasted out and covered part of the aisle.
Clint turned away but really couldn’t sleep with this corpse staring at him. He got up and found something to cover it with. He found a tarp in the back and covered the person.
“Rest in peace.” He said then sat back down where he had before.
He then closed his eyes and started to drift off.
Then his stomach grumbled.
Time: 9:30 pm
Natasha limped as she walked back towards the gate of her camp. She didn’t find Peter or Clint.
She had gotten hurt when she went to inspect a scream to see if it was either only to find herself face to face with a human who was in the middle of turning into one of “them.”
A voice made her look up.
“Natasha, where have you been?”
It was Cap.
He jumped from the fence and ran towards her.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped. She just gave him a look and kept walking. Cap helped her over into the camp. She climbed down the other ladder and then walked towards her tent.
Natasha entered it and looked around. She let out a sigh and closed the flap behind her.
She then sat on her cot and stared at her feet.
She had failed. She promised Clint she would find him only to run into several dead ends and also ended up losing Peter as well.
Tears filled her eyes. Natasha hid her face in her hands and let out an angry cry. She threw her radio down onto the floor and buried her head under her pillow.
“I’m so sorry, Clint. If you’re dead it’s because of me.” She sobbed. “I should have gone back for you.”
She immediately sat up and wiped away her tears when she heard her tent flap unzipping.
“H-hello?” she called.
Cap poked his head in.
“Fury wants to talk to you. Hey are you alright?” he asked when he saw her red eyes.
“Yeah I’m fine.” She said as she pushed past him and headed for Fury’s tent. Before she went in, she stopped herself.
Fury was going to yell at her, she knew he was. That was the last thing she needed right now.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.
Fury’s back was to her and he was talking to someone else.
Natasha cleared her throat and the tent was suddenly quiet.
She heard Fury take in a deep breath and let it out. Then he turned to face her.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” he said very sternly. “Fury, I know what you’re going to say but if it’s any-“ she broke off when she saw who Fury had been talking to.
It was Peter.
“Pete?” she gasped.
“You made it back.” Peter said.
He then pushed past Fury and gave her a tight hug.
“How did you get back here? What happened to you?” she asked.
“After we got separated I headed back for camp. I tried to also look for you but I couldn’t find where you had gone. I thought the walkers got you. But after I got back to camp I knew you still had to be searching for Hawkeye.” He looked behind her then at her again.
“I take it you didn’t find him.” He said.
Natasha shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
Fury cleared his throat and the two looked his way.
“As I was saying. You want to tell what the hell both of you were thinking? I needed you both here.” He said. “Fury I had to go search for him.” Natasha said.
“64 people died in the past week because my two best snipers were out chasing a dead man. Two hours after you two ran out, a swarm of the infected came crawling to our wall. And since you sent Cap on a wild goose chase to me, they broke through and killed 32 people before anybody noticed. Another 32 were killed protecting the civilians. Next time when I say don’t go over the fence, you had better listen or the infected will be the least of your problems. Am I clear?” he said, his voice getting louder and angrier.
“Crystal.” Both said.
“Look, I’m sorry about Barton. But it’s been weeks. If he was still alive I think he would have found us by now.”
Natasha stared at the ground, her tears returning.
“Do not go out looking for him anymore. You’ll just yourself killed. I’m sorry but we have to face the facts.” Fury told her coming up to stand in front of her.
“Clint is most likely dead.”
Natasha closed her eyes.
“You’re both dismissed.” Fury said the turned around.
Natasha left the tent followed by Peter. She headed for her tent and opened up the flap.
“So what do we do now?” Peter asked. Natasha stopped and let out sad sigh.
“You heard Fury. Clint’s gone.” She said. Before Peter could say anything more, she disappeared into her tent.
Peter sighed and started to turn away when he heard quiet sobs coming from inside. He was about to go in but then decided not to. Instead, he headed for his own tent; her cries still being heard.
This was something she had to face alone.