The Walkers: Revised

The girl's gone crazy....

“She's three sheets to the wind,” said Cole.


“More like seven or eight.” Jackson put the bow down on the table and made his way over to Kail. The pistol was grasped tightly in her right hand, a bottle of half empty liquor in the other. She was sitting on the ground, her back against the damp wall behind her. His automatic reaction was to take the gun from her hand, but common sense insisted otherwise.


“Hey, sis,” Jackson said. He knelt in front of her, hoping the weapon wasn't loaded. “Why did you leave?”


Kail was looking right past him, as if she didn't see him there. There was a blank look in her eyes; hollow and dark.


“Always the life of the party, huh?” he asked, reaching for the gun. He knew he had to tread carefully. If Kail was anything like him, she was a ticking bomb.


Jackson let his fingers curl around the barrel of the gun, feeling every instinct in his gut screaming. He'd had no choice; her hand was clutching the weapon tight, as if her life depended on it. If she had been anyone else, the solution would have been simple: he would have shot her.


As he put pressure on the gun, Kail tightened her grasp. Her eyes came into focus suddenly, zeroing in on him.