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Snippet #2484382

located in Cynthiana, Kentucky, a part of The Walking Dead: The Other Group, one of the many universes on RPG.

Cynthiana, Kentucky

None

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Scott Vane Character Portrait: Ellie Vane Character Portrait: Moira Bradley Character Portrait: Jonathan Morgan Character Portrait: Arthur Murphy Character Portrait: Sarah Moretti
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Sarah Moretti

Sarah watched the siblings and thought about how nice it was that they had someone they could rely on no matter what. Her heart ached for that kind of companionship, but in these times trust was hard to come by. She knew she would have to rely on herself if she was going to survive, but she also knew that she wasn’t going to get out of here alive if she didn’t work with these people. For now she would have to trust them, and hope that they would lead her to a city full of people where she could once again blend in with the crowd.

Looking around, Sarah could find nothing of any use to her. She wasn’t much of a fighter. Sighing dejectedly, she started doing what she did best – organizing. She knelt down in front of bookcase and started arranging the books alphabetically. One book was so heavy she almost dropped it. Curious, she opened it, only to find it hollowed out. She picked up the semi-automatic that was inside, made sure the safety was on, and then stuck it in her jean’s pocket. Hopefully, since she didn’t have any training with a gun, she wouldn’t have to try to use it.

A few more books in their place later, Sarah felt a pain in her right index finger. Lifting it to her face to inspect it, she saw that it had been split open. Looking down, she saw a picture with broken glass and covered with her blood. She picked it up with her good hand and examined it. A couple staring lovingly at their baby. She smiled at the picture of the happy family who must have been the ones to live in the apartment.

Her smile quickly vanished and her mood plummeted. She set the picture on top of the bookcase and made her way over to her backpack. “I found a picture of the family that used to live here,” she said to no one in particular. “They’re probably dead now. Like we’re going to be soon. Do we even know where we’re going once we get out of here?” Grateful that her finger didn’t need stitches, she pulled her out her roll of gauze and clumsily tried to wrap her finger with her non-dominate hand. She knew she would feel bad about being so negative later, if there was a later, but right now she was in too sour a mood to care.