Being in a group now feels much different, and Samuel didn't spend all that much time alone. Three, maybe four weeks... five at most. He lost track of the days when they began to feel like years. Sleeping some away in the back seats of abandoned cars or empty bedrooms while staying awake, unblinking for several more. Anxiety fucked with him like that, and the loneliness didn't help as paranoia set in and whispered relentlessly in his ear 'You'll join the rest of them soon'. And the thing was... Samuel believed that tiny voice nagging in the back of his skull, to the point where he couldn't eat whatever scraps he found due to nausea, and he'd bolt upright out of a dead sleep in cold sweat.
And yet, somehow, he is still alive. He found himself in Omaha, in the safety net of another group of survivor's. Three weeks of that still has settled in, and he finds himself wandering out alone. Not on a scavenge mission - it's clear he should stick with Ramona and any others for those - but just for a stroll through the city. He takes to the streets often, with his bat and a knife he dug up, for much needed solitude. It's a poor habit of his to wander like that, but now that he has people he seeks it for some form of mental clarity - likely for the need to remain independent. There's always a chance he can end up alone again, and Samuel can't let himself lean too much on people for it will destroy him in the end.
There is a certain fatigue that's been nagging his body, though. Still, he walks with no destination and no purpose, until he finds himself stopping in the middle of what he comes to realize is a parking lot, half empty but littered with many stray vehicles. A parking lot to what appears to be a mall. Curiosity pulls at him, but Samuel knows better. He's not a fucking idiot, he won't traverse deep within the maze of halls within that building. He can stand to get a closer look, Samuel decides as he begins to wander in and out the rows of mini vans and hatchback sedans, peeking inside a few of the cars with broken windows and open doors.
Stopping at one, Samuel focuses through the glare of the window on the car seat in the back. Empty now, but haphazardly knocked on its side. He vaguely wonders where that kid is today, if it's alive... Samuel immediately shakes his head at the eerie thought. There are steps heard that cause for him to jump. A shuffle step that has him tremble and freeze in his place. The source is none other than the shell of the aforementioned child, or someone's child for that matter, staggering around the back end of the car. 'Shit shit... oh fucking shit...' is a mantra on constant replay in his head while the undead takes a hungry leap at him.
On reflex Samuel swings his bat which solidly connects with the undead's small head and finishes the job. It's quick and easy, but it still sends him stumbling back until he trips and lands on his tail bone. Everything falls still and silent, but Samuel sits there and draws in a sharp breath that becomes a shallow wheeze. Willing himself to calm he shifts uncomfortably from where a pebble stabs at his low back and shakily sits up straight to stare at the caved in skull of the kid zombie. The universe sure has a sick sense of humor.
