The car had run out of gas three miles ago. The last horde of walkers had been momentarily distracted by the act of making it explode, but it wouldn’t be long before they moved on once more. Newt wonders at how they can move so fast. He’d studied dead-walkers before they moved on before. They don’t fit in a single thing he knows– decomposing bodies, but their eyes still work? They can still smell? They can move faster than imagined with muscles that should be too tense to move. Walkers shouldn’t exist, but worse their is no rhyme or reason for it–
–Nothing more to do than kill those that come by, former friend or foe, and run.
They’d been running for so long by now. Days had turned to weeks, then months. Now years. It seemed it’d only gotten worse, not better– But he supposes there are more of them now, isn’t there? His stomach twists at the thought, fingers fidgeting with the zipper of his bag. He checks hopefully for any last ammo that may be hidden in its depths. To see if he’d missed something– but it hasn’t changed since the last three times he looked. Which meant that he had two more shots in the weapon he carried with him. He couldn’t miss.
Newt heaved a breath. His attention turned to the house they’d found themselves in. The windows boarded up as were most of he doors (the one they came in withstanding). Someone had used this as a safehouse before. He can’t help but wonder what happened to them as he zipped up his bag once more and rose to his feet. The next option, then, was to see if whoever was here last left something for them to use.
His ears prickle when he hears the other man’s voice. Turning to look at him in surprise, Newt takes him in as if he hasn’t understood him. As if he’s grown a third head. If I don’t make it, that’s okay with me. As long as you do. His mouth warps into a grim line. Of course, it hadn’t been lost on him how at their ends they are. They hadn’t been able to stop moving in days. Their weapons dwindling nearly as quickly as their weapons. The hope was to get to the next city, but without a car that would take days and the walkers would catch up soon.
“Don’t be silly,” He finally settled after a moment, slinging the bag over his shoulder. His free hand moving to dust off his jeans for want of something to do to than to look at the other man,”We’ve made it this far. With any luck, those who stayed here before left us something useful.”
Food. Ammo. Even a knife. He’d take any of that, but that wasn’t the point.
He released a breath before turning his attention back to Percival. Green eyes flashing vibrantly defiant, refusing to look anywhere but at the man before him. “I won’t be going anywhere without you,” Newt adds for good measure.