Below is the complete Chapter 2 of The Walking Dead: Fight to Survive. Reviews and thoughts are welcome in the comments.
Sophia lurched forward, spinning around. Sure enough, the hand that had grasped her belonged to one of the undead walkers. It let out a ghastly roar, slowly staggering forward. Sophia turned around, only to see a pair of walkers climbing from their places of slumber in a ditch on the side of the road.
Quickly, mustering her strength, Sophia sprinted past the duo of bloodthirsty beings and made for a safe haven.
As she ran, Sophia saw that multiple other walkers were joining in her pursuit. Please, dear God, let me make it! PLEASE! After she prayed her silent prayer in her mind, Sophia continued to run until she was cut off by a walker, who had stumbled onto the path and cut her off.
Sophia skidded to a stop, clutching her doll tightly. The walker slowly turned its head to stare directly at her, emitting a raspy bellow. It started to move towards her slowly; she kept her distance and continued to back up, until she felt something on her back. Turning, she saw one of the walkers from before directly behind her. Jumping back, she turned to run...
...only for the undead beast to snatch a hold of her doll and tug on it, strongly.
Sophia turned, yanking back. She knew that it wasn't wise to be struggling with a walker hand-to-hand; if it pulled her in close enough, she wouldn't need to worry about running back to her mother.
After passing her choices through her mind, Sophia finally decided upon a choice as tears began to drip from her eyes. She reluctantly let go of the doll, taking off on a run into the opposite direction.
The only thing she had left of her friends cluttered to the ground as the walkers continued to pursue the young, auburn-haired girl.
- - -
Rick, Shane, Carl, Daryl, and Glenn stopped as they saw the multitude of undead zombies marching down the leaf and dirt-covered road. "I don't know if there's a high chance that she made it out of that," Glenn observed, keeping his hand tightly wrapped around his pistol. Shane sighed, turning. "We're probably just hunting down a ghost," he said, marching towards a nearby tree. He placed his shotgun down, removing the bottle of water from his pocket.
After taking a gulp, Shane looked down to see Carl standing there, his father's sheriff's hat lying tilted over his dark-haired head. "You really think she's dead?" he asked surprisingly, his hands lying limp at his sides. Shane cocked his head to one side, then looked back to Carl. "Look, Carl, I know that you want more than anything to find her. But just listen to me: What are the chances of a twelve-year-old kid making it on her own out in that hell we're living in?"
Carl didn't bother to answer. "I don't care what you think. She's out there, and I know it!"
Shane sighed again, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Carl. It's just that there's no reason for us to go out looking for her if she's dead." Carl huffed, looking down to the ground. "But she's not dead," he muttered under his breath, turning on his heel.
As the two rejoined the other three members of their team, Daryl pulled Shane aside a little behind the others. "What the hell are you tellin' that kid? You ain't doing any good by pressing with your thoughts that Sophia's dead!" Shane stopped, clutching his shotgun tightly. "I just say what sticks out as the truth," he sternly spoke, staring at the crossbow-wielder. "Understand that?"
Daryl doesn't answer; he just simply stares at the police officer, his weapon in his hands. "Fine. But whatever you do, don't do anythin' to mess this up. Do you understand that?"
Shane simply stood staring at the woods as Daryl marched past him, his blood boiling. Sure, he wanted to find Sophia and return her to her mother. But what were the chances that a little girl was still alive and running about in this mess? Shane didn't know the exact percentage, but he knew it was pretty slim.
As he rejoined the group, Shane overheard Carl and Rick conversing with one another. "I'm going to be the one to find her, Dad. I'm gonna find her and bring her back." Rick chuckled, placing a hand on Carl's shoulder. "I know, son. I know you will."
- - -
At the RV owned by Dale Horvath, which was parked on the road, Lori Grimes and Carol Peletier - the mothers of Carl and Sophia respectively - were folding the clothes they had just finished cleaning. "Do you think they'll find Sophia?" Carl asked. From redness in her eyes, one could tell that Carol had been crying her heart out over the loss of her one and only child.
Lori smiled, placing a hand on Carol's shoulder. "I'm sure they will. They're all very capable men." The image of Carl marching with the four survivor men made her smile. "And young men." Carol looked up to Lori, and then chuckled. "Oh, Carl. He and Sophia have grown very close while this whole...mess has started." Lori nodded, folding up one of Carl's T-shirts. "Yeah. It's a good thing that he's got at least somebody to spend his free time with. Someone his own age who he can relate to."
Carol nodded in agreement. "I just hope he'll have her to turn to many more times."