Well this was an interesting turn of events. I shrugged it off.
"I have a present for you," I said patting Joe's shoulder. "And I'll be getting out of your way. I know when I'm not welcome," I laughed slightly, not giving him a chance to say anything to me - or any of them, for that matter. I just left them to it.
Now, Sophia's disappearance might have bothered a normal person, but in my head, I'd just lost a tumble in the sheets. I wasn't that worried. She was useless at looking after herself, but at least that would mean she'd die quickly if she was caught out.
As I walked, I hummed to myself; I missed my iPod. Aside from the drugs, music had been a pretty big part of my life, and fuck did I miss it. I missed the band I used to be in, I missed being able to make noise and not having a ton of zombies chase you for it. I decided I didn't care anymore. I just sang to myself, walking along. It's not like there was anyone around to judge me for it.
By the time I found Sophia, I was actually in a pretty good mood. I'd sung loud and long enough that a few walkers had found me, but I'd dealt with them quickly and gone on my way. Anyway, I was just walking down a street, heading nowhere in particular, when I saw a familiar face, unconscious on the floor. She was slumped against the wall of an emptied out corner shop, a big cut on her elbow and a bloodied knife in her hand.
I frowned to myself. She was breathing, which I'm sure is something walkers don't do, (I could be wrong there, I'm usually too busy stabbing them to look closely), but the virus isn't an instant thing. I would have left her, but Scott's anger niggled at the back of my head. If I saved her, not only would she appreciate it, it'd piss that asshole off. With that thought in mind, I picked her up and carried her into the corner shop, barring up the door before laying her down on the counter. I found a few first aid things out the back and cleaned her cut, bandaging it up before finding a seat that wasn't broken. I had no idea if she'd gotten zombie blood in her wound, so I sat down to watch her, a knife in hand.