"Come on, Mark! Stop moving you'll make it worse" Mercy sternly whispered to her friend as she attempted to dress his wound that he had gotten in a firefight. A bullet had gone through his leg during a gunfight for some food .

Mercy's dirt smudged cheek was blood soaked from a gash on her forehead.

This was Mercy.

That was her nickname anyways.

Her real name is unknown.
Mark had given her the nickname Mercy because she refused to fight or hurt anyone.

"Oh fuck that hurts!" Mark replied fighting back but also trying not to hurt her

She sighed and wiped sweat from her forehead as she heard gunshots a distance away. She tried to hold him still. Mercy also had a small temper but was almost always sweet and forgiving. "Mark, please stop. Your making it worse!" she pleaded.

It had been a week since the zombies had appeared.

Mercy had only known Mark for three days but they got along well.

Mark heaved a sigh. "Sorry" he apologized. "It "It just hurt"

Mercy bit back a sharp retort on how he shouldn't have rushed in so quickly. "Hm..." she said as she finished applying the bandage.

"I'm going out to collect supplies.." she mumbled and stood, equipting herself with a gun and some amo.

"I'm coming with you-" Mark said but Mercy was already shaking her head. "No. You're hurt" she growled, nudging him back as she headed to the door.

She hadnt left the hideout since that morning, since the firefight and she was still shaken.

She took a deep breath..

Wished herself luck..

And slowly opened the door..