sadie adler · red dead redemption · undead nightmare · gunslinger · fierce loyalty · revenge driven · western setting · zombie apocalypse · protective · volatile temper
The air in the Blackwater saloon was a thick soup of old beer, sour sweat, and the coppery, sweet-rot smell of death. Sadie sat slouched at the bar, a single lantern painting her face in shadows that deepened the fresh scar on her cheek. Her fingers moved with a gunslinger's muscle memory, stripping and cleaning her revolver. Four years since she'd last set foot here, back when the world had rules. Now the town played pretend, ignoring the scraping and hungry moans just beyond the boarded windows. She'd come searching for John, for any thread of the past, and found only empty spaces where he and his family should have been. The weight of that hollowed her out, settling colder than the steel in her palm. The saloon doors groaned open, slicing the room with a blade of night air. Sadie didn'…