The Walking Dead: Starting as a Cowboy

In the dimly lit basement, the smell of mildew and dust mingled together, making it choking and uncomfortable.

"Cough cough cough..."

Moore leaned against the wall with one hand, almost coughing up his throat, and wiped his mouth with his hand.

"Wrapping this strip of cloth around your mouth will make you feel better."

The mother asked the little girl to hand her a strip of cloth and said softly.

The little girl's lower face was also wrapped in a strip of cloth. She handed over the cloth, saying, "Uncle, here!"

uncle?

Mohr took the strip of cloth and paused slightly.

No one has ever called me that before; only words like "bastard" and "scumbag" have been used to describe me.

The cloth strip was close to my face, and I could feel a cool sensation. It was wet, so even when I covered my mouth and nose, it didn't smell bad or make me feel uncomfortable.

Moore found a sofa and sat down. With a "poof," a thick layer of dust on the sofa bounced up and slowly settled.

With his mouth and nose covered, Moore didn't care about the dust anymore.

The basement was very dark, so dark you could hardly see your hand in front of your face. Moore could only hear the breathing and soft conversation of the mother and daughter across from him.

"Captain Moore, may I ask what life is like in Yellowstone? For example, what kind of jobs do women like me have?"

The mother asked softly.

Moore thought for a moment and replied, "There are many jobs in Yellowstone, and many places need people. First, we look at your work before the apocalypse, and second, we look at your personal willingness."

"For example, there are many jobs such as nurses, plant nurses, conference room clerks, and those who coordinate supplies. You don't need to worry about not finding a job."

Moore spoke very sincerely, selectively sharing what he knew with the mother.

The mother was delighted to hear this, and the two began to chat.

Time passed by in the chat, the topics of conversation dried up, and the air returned to silence.

Sudden.

Gollum—

A little girl's voice came through: "Mommy, I'm hungry, my tummy is growling."

"Come on, Mom will find you something to eat." The mother's voice was very gentle.

After a rustling sound of a backpack being rummaged through, the little girl opened the packaging bag and began to eat, praising the deliciousness of the food.

The sounds of eating made Moore a little restless.

Moore was wearing a warrior's black armor, which provided strong defense and made it easier to fight the walkers. However, it didn't have much storage space, so he didn't bring much food.

In the past, when going out, I always made sure to do thorough reconnaissance and planning, and completed the mission smoothly.

Therefore, storage space in the black armor was not considered; if food was needed, one could simply go to the armored vehicle to get it.

After a day of fighting, his physical strength was greatly depleted, and he hadn't had any food to replenish his energy. Mo Er touched his stomach, feeling waves of hunger washing over him.

The little girl took small steps and slowly walked up to Mo'er, smiling as she stretched out her little hand, in which was a small loaf of bread.

Mmm, strawberry mini cakes, with strawberry jam inside.

The little girl offered it to me like a precious treasure, "Uncle, this is my favorite little bread. My mom doesn't have many left. Do you want some?"

The little girl's eyes were shining; she clearly loved the bread.

Moore hesitated for a moment, opening and closing his hand, struggling for a while before saying haughtily, "I don't eat things from little kids. Take it back to your mother."

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, okay." The little girl pouted; she could tell that Moore wanted to eat.

Why do adults think and do things differently?

Before the little girl could get back to her mother, she heard a rumbling sound in her intestines behind her.

Glug glug—

Moore blushed, his temples throbbing with anger.

The little girl, holding a small loaf of bread, wanted to turn around and look for Moore, but her mother pulled her back.

A moment later, the little girl walked up to Moore with her hands behind her back.

Moore crossed his arms, tilted his chin up, and avoided looking at the little girl. "What's wrong?"

"Uncle, here you go, a peach."

The little girl took her hands out from behind her back, holding a big peach in her two little hands.

The sweet aroma of peaches wafted into Moore's nose.

Mo'er was slightly taken aback; it was the peaches he had given away.

The little girl may not know the value of fresh fruit, but her mother certainly does, and she was able to return it to her.

The little girl said, "Mommy said Uncle is hungry, and the peaches are sweet and delicious!"

The little girl drooled as she spoke, clearly having been eyeing the peaches for a long time.

Moor was touched. He picked up the peach, turned it around, and put it back in the little girl's palm. He then touched the little girl's dry hair.

"Keep the peaches for yourself, just ask your mom to get me some cookies."

"Okay!" The little girl smiled, her eyes crinkling with laughter, and her short legs quickly ran back to her mother.

After eating something, he regained a lot of strength, and Moore felt much more at ease.

I wonder when Caesar will be able to come.

Moore glanced at his watch; the second hand ticked away, and a bad feeling crept into his heart.

The tranquility in the basement didn't last long. A thumping sound came from above—the footsteps of the walkers.

It sounded heavy, like the dull thud of lifting a piece of pork and dropping it.

As Moore heard more and more noises coming from upstairs, his heart sank lower and lower.

He quickly checked his weapons and ammunition: an automatic rifle, a Glock pistol, a dagger, some ammunition, and a grenade.

The grenade is an offensive grenade; if there isn't enough space to throw it, you'll only hurt yourself.

Moore gripped the dagger in reverse and stepped toward the basement door.

Below the entrance is an old wooden ladder that is easy to fall down if you're not careful, and it's also difficult to climb up. Above it is an equally old wooden door.

The wooden door had many holes, and through the holes you could even see the zombies on it.

Moore took a deep breath and walked to the ladder.

Squeak squeak—

The wooden door creaked under the weight of the zombies' footsteps, a sound that sent shivers down one's spine.

Moore looked at the mother and daughter, who were embracing each other. The mother was trembling with fear, while the girl stared at him with her big eyes wide open.

Moore smiled, gave a thumbs up, and mouthed silently, "I'll stop them."

pop-

The wooden door finally gave way, making a cracking sound as a zombie's foot stomped through it.

The zombie's leg was stuck, and the zombie shook its body, trying to free its leg.

The wooden door made an even louder noise.

Morty stepped back two paces, holding the dagger horizontally in front of his chest, with the holster and safety engaged, ready to fire rapidly.

bang——

The zombie collapsed along with the wooden door, crashing heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

Moore glanced up, then lunged forward, plunging his dagger into the walker's eye socket.

With a sharp twist, the zombie instantly lost its life.

Moll drew his dagger and ran quickly backward.

Sure enough, the zombies started falling into the basement, crashing down one after another.

Dust billowed up as the zombies slowly rose from the bodies of their kind, letting out hoarse cries.