Devil Like Me

The air in the building had felt colder, thicker. A chill scraped down the length of my spine and made the hair on my arms rise as death had loomed above us. I could feel the dark-cloaked figure peering over my shoulder as we sought out the Saviours, following behind Glenn and I as we entered first. My gun remained on my shoulder, the barrel peering around corners before my body did.

Glenn reached for the first door on the inside, silently swinging it open for the rest of our team to filter through. Andy was correct when not remembering any windows. The only source of light came from the odd bulb hanging loosely from swinging wires, leaving the hallways a dim yellow tinge. Paint chipped on the metal doors and walls and the concrete floor cracked, some spots in chunks if you didn't watch your footing.

I followed in behind Abraham, Glenn hot on my heels. As an instinct I swung from left to right, clearing vacant rooms with a glance even though each person in front of me had already done the same. Our footsteps were silent on the concrete and the air was eerily quiet, not a soul in here seeming to be awake.

"Check the doors. Find the arsenal. We take them out," Rick whispered the order, allowing people to begin dispersing.

Those now in front of me began opening the doors down the main hallway, leaving Glenn and I to pass by, once again taking point. Glenn and I veered down the right hallway, Glenn only a step or two in front of me. I cocked my head around watching as Rosita and Aaron steered down the left hall while Rick, Michonne, and Daryl went for the room directly ahead. The hallway wasn't long, maybe twenty feet or so, short enough that Michonne could watch our backs as we entered the first room on our left.

Glenn placed his hand down on the handle, pushing it slowly and allowing the door to creak open on its own. The light from the hallway slowly filled the small bedroom, my gun aimed into the open space where two cots lay pressed against either side of the wall. I dropped my gun, the strap hanging loosely on my shoulder as I retrieved my knife. Two men slept peacefully, dreaming of whatever thought danced around their heads. They were two sheep trapped in a pen as the wolves approached. The room had been so quiet, the only sound was mine and Glenn's unsteady breaths. I stood in the doorway for a moment. I had spent all day trying to convince myself that I have hunted before, I have killed so many animals in the woods to feed myself. But that had been different, that had been for a purpose. No matter how many times Rick tried to convince us that this needed to be done to keep ourselves alive, it still hadn't felt right. How could it? These were people. People who lived and breathed, had thoughts and feelings, family and friends.

My feet pressed forward, each step more unbearable than the last. How could we do this? How could I do this? I stared down at the man, my body nearly hovering over him at this point. His eyes twitched as he slept soundly. A true sheep and I the wolf about to devour its prey. I brought my knife up from my side, the whites of my knuckles staring back at me from how hard I gripped the handle. I held it there, above his head, unmoving. I couldn't do it. I bit my bottom lip so hard I drew blood, the coppery tinge in my mouth no distraction from what I was about to do. I remained in that stance unable to move, thinking in the next moment I would back away and walk out of here. But then my eyes looked up at the wall above the Saviour's head. A collage of polaroids was scattered on the concrete, my stomach twisting into a knot from his collection. Jesus had told us of the boy they had beaten to death in front of them but never had I imagined it to look like this. These pictures were trophies of all those innocent people they had killed. All those communities they had traumatized into submission. Skulls had been smashed to smithereens, chunks of flesh and tissue exploded on the pavement, pools of blood swarming the bodies. Not a trace of what they might have looked like before the Saviours got to them, only a neck and a body. They weren't dreams that danced around these men's heads, they were nightmares. They were not good people.

My eyes remained on those polaroids as my knife sunk deep into the man's forehead, the bone bitting back against the blade. A muffled sound came from deep within my chest as I tried to suppress the noise, choking on the tears. I breathed in deep, keeping my focus on the pictures. This was for the people who did not have the chance to fight back. This was for the seventeen-year-old boy from Hilltop who did not get the chance to live. This was for us, for our survival. I slowly slid my knife back out, blood dripping from the blade as I stood up straight. I turned my head to see Glenn still standing over the other cot, his hand shaking as his knife hovered in front of him. My feet took me over to his side of the room before my mind could process what I was about to do for him. I place my hand on top of his, his fingers ice-cold. He looked up at me, tears burning his eyes as that same choking noise came from deep within his throat. I nodded my head telling him it was okay to let me do it. I was okay with it, I'd face the nightmares on my own if it meant keeping Glenn from them for at least a little while longer. His knife slid into my hand and I wasted no time when plunging the blade into the second man's skull.

I straightened, handing Glenn's knife back to him. He looked at me for a moment, his breath shaky as he held back the tears. His arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me there. "Thank you."

"You were always the lucky one," I breathed out, the humour not reaching my tone from the truth I had let slip. Glenn didn't respond as he pulled away, a stunned expression on his face when he realized what I meant. His mouth opened like he finally found a suitable response, but our necks snap upwards. A blaring siren echoed through the entire building, my mouth gaping open as the breath escaped my lungs. We had been made. Gunshots began going off, an all-out shoutout happening from deeper within the building. I grabbed both of Glenn's cheeks before we ran into the line of fire, halting him there for a moment. "Listen to me. You shoot first and ask questions later. Don't hesitate."

We were running back down the hallway a second later. The front door was so close to us, the only exit we knew of, but our people remained in here and so would we. We ran straight down the left hallway where Rosita and Aaron had originally gone, following the sounds of the gunshots. I pressed my back against the wall, waiting for Glenn to do the same before swinging my gun around the corner first. The hallway had been clear but the shots became significantly louder. We were getting close. We were halfway down the hall when two men rounded the corner from the other end, trying to make a getaway. Both Glenn and I fired, not knowing whose bullets dropped the men to their knees.

"Come on," Glenn ushered me along, stepping over the bodies and turning the corner they had run from. We took turn after turn, following the noise. This place was larger than I thought, a maze of hallways leading to no end.

Glenn's arm was thrown backward, slamming against my chest as bullets came whizzing toward us. He backed us up into the nearest room, a group of Saviours pelting the door frame to keep us trapped inside. We waited for them to reload, my heart slamming against my ribcage as we flung our bodies halfway through the frame to send a course of bullets back their way. I could see blurs of people running down hallways, ducking into rooms and peering back out to aim fire. My magazine ran thin as the corner of the wall we threw bullets at exploded into pieces to try and get their focus from us. Our backs hit the inside of the room once more, their guns being aimed right back knowing we had run low.

"We have to move," I panted, tossing the empty magazine on the ground and slamming another one into place.

Glenn nodded, his breath equally as distraught, "I'll lay down cover fire. Go back down the way we came and take the hallway to the right. You get there and cover me. We'll see who we can find," he laid out the plan. I nodded my head, sucking in a breath. The gunshots had stopped, waiting for us to reappear to aim. "Go!" Glenn shouted, swinging his body through the door and draining bullets from his gun. I ran down the hallway in a heartbeat, using the corner of the wall to cover my body as I now sent down cover fire for Glenn.

The Saviours wanted us dead. No matter the shots I sent flying their way as Glenn ran towards me, they proceeded down the hall after us. Their guns went off, whizzing by Glenn out of sheer luck. "Go! Go!" I shouted at him, pressing him into an even fast pace. I killed two of the Saviours, three more still running down the hallway after us. Glenn slid around the corner and I turned to run with him, my gun held close to my chest. My feet hit the concrete with a thud, my eyes meeting a dead end, no other hallway to escape down, only a door stationed at the very end. The Saviours yelled are they chased after us, it wouldn't be long until they turned the corner and shot us as we fled down the single hallway. Glenn was two steps behind me, running sideways as he fired off warning shots down the corridor to keep the Saviours at bay. I emptied my magazine at the door handle, the bullets splintering the wood and breaking any lock that kept us from getting behind that door. I could hear Glenn yelling behind me now, the Saviours rounding the corner and firing down at us.

My shoulder hit the door first, throwing all of my weight into barreling it open. It slammed open, my body hitting the ground first and then Glenn's. He kicked the door shut, partially throwing his body over mine as the Saviours emptied their ammo into the door. The sound of it shattered my eardrums. I clutched the top of my head as splitters of wood exploded around the room. Maybe fifty bullets blasted through the door.

For the fraction of a second that it had stopped, the Saviours thinking we were dead, I took in the room we had found cover in. The armory. We scurried two our feet, picking up the nearest machine guns. I gritted my teeth, my blood hot against my skin as my finger clutched down on the trigger. It was overkill, firing fifty bullets back their way.

It was Glenn who went to the door first, panting so hard in the silence that remained. My hands shook as I finally lowered my weapon. The three Saviours lay spread out on the floor, blood leaking out of their bodies at a rapid pace. Every single bullet had hit them. We stood there in shock, unable to tear our eyes away from what could have been us. A wheezy groan escaped one of the men pressed against the wall. His arm slowly raises, still, trying and get one last shot. Glenn and I both jumped, a Glock roaring from down the hall and hitting the man's temple.

Jesus yanked down the black bandana from around his face as he lowered his weapon. "So, this is the next world."