Hunting Grounds {TWD Verse} | [Open]
Armand was used to moving from place to place. He hated that his family hadn’t settled down in any one place for too long once they had left Paris. But he supposed that was his fault anyway. He was always getting into trouble, and that didn’t change. It likely was never going to. The last thing his father had threatened him with was military school, and after he died, his mother kicked him to the curb. Even in foster care, he didn’t get a chance to settle down. He wasn’t wanted by any family, and he didn’t want them either. Too many of them treated him terribly.
He’d spent about two years on the run from the law before the world went to hell. He still couldn’t remember if he was guilty, and he refused to pay a price for something he had trouble believing he’d actually done. He knew he was violent, but murder? No way. He didn’t have it in him. He couldn’t have! He got himself mixed up with a gang, and ended up an addict. When it first started happening, he thought for sure that someone was just out there selling some bad drugs that made people do some fucked up shit. But when he shot a guy in self defense, and that guy came back, he knew it was something else. And when he saw people literally eating each other, he did whatever he had to do to survive. Thankfully, for a time, it was nothing he’d live to regret.
He found shelter, and he scavenged, and he survived. Sometimes he stayed with others, and when that got weird, he went off on his own again. Despite his desire for some sort of stability, he never stayed in one place for too long. Something bad always seemed to happen. The good news was that his father had prepared him for this. Likely without meaning to. He was a damn good hunter, and he knew survival techniques. It was military training without the military.
The years went by, and he lost count. He had no idea how long it had been since the dead started to walk. He didn’t even know the last time he’d been around another person. It had to be over a year since the last time he’d seen anyone else alive. He was doing just fine, mostly. He found an abandoned house in the woods that was in pretty damn good condition. He’d fixed it up, and fortified a perimiter with traps, noise, and a spiked fence. It took a lot of work, but it was the safest place he’d been in years.
There was a river nearby, and animals strolled through, too, sometimes. He had a decently thriving garden in the back yard. It was the best he was going to get, and hell, it still gave him access to home cooked meals. Better yet, he never had to worry about the threat of prison again.
He’d already tended the garden yesterday, and had some great produce. Now, he had to secure some meat. If he couldn’t, he’d have to fish. So he made sure to hit the woods early enough to give himself time for both. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he spotted a deer. It had been a while since he’d seen one. He’d be eating good for a month! He kept himself hidden, waiting for the right moment to shoot. And once he had his shot, he took it. The deer fell to the ground, and he rushed to his fresh kill.