I woke up in a tent. My head hurts like poop.

Exhibit A: using words (such as poop) as figurative language to describe my head ache instead of saying "my head hurts like hell."

Oh, great. Sounds like my brain stopped working.

The tent flap unzips, my hand searches for my knife on instinct, but I don't have it.

Greeaaaaaat.

A small head pops out and when her eyes land on me, a wide grin spreads across her face. "Em!" She squeals as she tackles me with a hug. It's Jackie!

A sharp pain shoots up below my left shoulder. "Ow, ow, ow, ow." I grumble.

Jackie pulls back. "Oh my gosh, Ember, you got shot!"

I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture. "Trust me, I'm fine. I just need to get back to the prison base and they'll help us."

Jackie hesitates. "Well...I found my old group at this camp. They rescued us! And Zack was my older brother's best friend. You can't leave yet. You're not strong enough."

I shake my head. "No, I need to get back." I say stubbornly.

Jackie sighs. "Ember, I can't stop you from leaving but I care about you enough to make you heal longer." She concludes as she turns to leave.

I let out an exasperated sigh.

Nope. Imma leavin.

I get up on two feet despite the horrific pain in my bandaged shoulder.

See? This is what I get for caring about people!

I unzip the tent and go outside. It's basically tent town at this camp. I mean, there's so many tents. A makeshift wall is surrounding the camp in a clearing. Solid place, but not my style. I need to get back to the prison!

Jackie is talking to some other girls her age.

Okay, so now I need to locate some weapons and hit the road.

Or the forest.

I honestly have no idea where this camp exactly is, but my priority is getting back to the prison, back to Daryl and Carl.

Plan: get weapons, leave. The rest, I guess I'll figure it out somehow.

What a great idea, Ember. What next? Stopping by pit full of walkers?

No thank you.

But I need to do this now, the group will be so mad. I think hurriedly to myself as I weave through the cluster of tents. I pull aside a kid.

"Do you know where the artillery is?" I ask him. He points to a tent across the camp. "Thanks, dude." I mutter as I sprint across the meadow, not paying attention to anyone I bump into. I don't try to say "sorry" or "excuse me".

I stop in front of the tent, take one last look at my surroundings warily as I duck my head and enter the tent. I grab a gun and a knife. And I run like hell for fear of being caught.

Easy...weird. I know it won't take long until these people fall. Not much guards at the artillery.

As I equip a backpack, my severed shoulder decides to hate me once again.

I climb over the wall and a guard shouts out at me. "Where you going?" She yells out.

I hop down onto the grassy cushion they call earth. I turn to the guard. "Home." And I turn and

Ran.