One
I heard their footsteps pounding after me over the sound of my rumbling motorcycle. Their arms were swinging, trying to catch my hair, or any limb. The zombies were after me, again. They were running; I've never seen them run. Maybe they got hungry, since it was near dinner time. Good thing my bike could get me through this mess.
Suddenly, I felt my bike get slower and slower. Oh crap. Crap, crap. I'm out of gas. Why now? Why did I have to run out when I was on a winding road with ever so many zombies on my tail? Maybe God has finally had enough of me.
But I haven't had enough of me.
I floored the gas pedal to get as much space between me and the zombies before I took a run into the woods. There are a bundle of trees to my right. Maybe their eyesight is bad in the dark and they won't see me dodging through the trees. I silently prayed for the best.
When I heard the zombies moans get more distant, I hopped off my bike. I fell with a thump on the asphalt and disregarded the scrapes on my knees. With my machete clanging against my thigh and my pistol heavy in its holder, I sprint through the forest. My feet slip on the leaves and the branches tear at my skin. It reminds me of the old times when I went hiking. I used to be a runner and a hiker, back when things were normal.
This is the new normal, Brandy. I tell myself. The new normal is avoiding zombies and tracking down my baby, Paul. Why did I leave him with his father? Why did I trust him? I was never one to trust. Now I've learned my lesson.
I've been spotted. They probably saw my long red hair whipping around, God, I need to cut my hair. I can't stop running. I can't! There is a clearing in the distance and what looks like a big fire. Big fire means people, people mean weapons, and weapons mean safety.
I push myself to the breaking point as I sprint even harder. Now I can make out the people, sort of. They are all sitting around the fire like it was story time. I can make out a couple of Hispanics, a few white folks, a couple of kids, blacks, whites.
The people start to notice me, they point at me. Some raise guns, in one case a bow and arrow, or excuse me- a cross bow.
"RUN!" I yelled. "GO!"
Did they not hear me? I'm within speaking distance now. They all look like normal people. One old man with a large nose and cool hat, a blonde chick, a Hispanic family, a creepy looking white guy, two old ladies, one black, one accompanied by a man and a young girl. A black man talks to tall man with thick brown hair & wears a sheriff's badge. The sheriff holds onto a ladies hand, which holds onto a little boy. Another police stands beside a gruff looking guy with a crossbow. Wow. He's fine. But now isn't the time for that. They have an RV, cars, and tents. So vulnerable.
"Can we help you?" The sheriff asks, walking up to me.
In between gasps for breath I gush, "No... But… I... can- help… you. Run… They… are… coming… get… weapons. Hide the kids."
"The hell?" Crossbow guy asks.
I point behind me dismissively. They have arrived.
Those were the good old days. I'm just now realizing it. We've lost so many since that day. The official day I joined the group.
We lost so many today. I don't know for sure but I can just guess, because the barn that Rick and Carl were in is being devoured by flames. The farm has tons and tons of walkers just wandering around. I have so much of their blood on me they don't even notice that I'm meat. I see cars and Daryls motor cycle filing out of the farm in a not so orderly fashion. I'm just not ready to go. I have so many memories stored in this little farm, good and bad.
After about ten minutes I start my motorcycle and floor it, because if I don't go fast they'll get me. Hands reach out to grab me, so I just go faster, trailing after the headlights in the far distance.
I hope Daryl's alive. If anyone, I hope it's him. He looks after me like a father and talks to me like a friend. He kisses me like he loves me, and sometimes he ignores me like I'm a virus. It just depends. He's just so freaking bad when it comes to emotions, he tries so hard to be manly and rock hard, but I guess you can say I broke his rock hard shell.
The longer I ride the more I begin to worry. Where am I going? Where is everyone else going? Are Hershel, Beth and them still on the farm? Should I turn back? I lost track of the headlights about an hour or two ago. Maybe I should go to the highway. No, that's ridiculous. My group is smart enough to stay on the back roads.
Right?
My brain practically screams for me to go for the backroads, but my gut tells me the highway. I hop off my bike for a brief second to check and see if I can see any tire tracks. There aren't any, damn. Just like the day Paul disappeared.
I flashback to the day my life went to Hell and back.
"Remember, Paul is allergic to peanuts, oranges, and his inhaler is in his book bag. He has to be at school tomorrow at 7:45." I said to Liam, who could to care less. What a crappy father. Paul is tough though, that's how I raised him.
"Brandy, he'll be fine. Just go to your dad, he needs you." He replied as he ran his fingers through his long blond mane.
I crossed my arms over my tight Harley Davidson tee and looked down at the cement, "Yeah. Dad's strong but I fear this may be it for him."
Liam reached out to touch my arm apologetically. I let him, and as his fingers touched my arm I felt that spark. The same spark I felt when we were stupid college kids who just wanted to grow up. My eyes welled up and I tried to keep back the tears. I pushed Liam out of the way to say bye to Paul. I opened the door and Paul came running down the hall.
"Bye Momma, I love you." He kissed my cheek. I kissed his cheek, still pudgy from baby fat. I pushed the blonde wisps of hair out of his eyes.
"I love you too baby. Now go finish coloring. I'll pick you up tomorrow." I whispered. He trotted down the hall and I shut the door after me.
"Why are we like this?" Liam asked as soon as I stepped out.
"What?" I asked.
"Me. You. We don't have to act like we hate each other just because of one mistake-"
"Paul isn't a mistake." I cut him off and I march down the steps.
"You didn't let me finish. We don't have to be like this because of one mistake that turned into something wonderful. I still have feelings for you, Bran. I miss you."
I stopped on the cement and looked at him, "No you don't. You want something real, something besides bringing girls home every other night."
He trotted down the steps, "Then why do I cry myself to sleep every other night because I miss you? Why do I still keep all those photos on my wall? And all those clothes you got me, I still wear them. My bed still smells like you so I have to sleep on the couch-"
"Wash your sheets then." I counter.
He laughed, "I did. And I changed brands of detergent so many times but the smell won't go." He grabbed my waist and kissed my lips. He ran his fingers through my hair. I kissed back and slipped my hand under his shirt. Yep. He was still muscular.
I pulled back.
"Now you can't tell me you didn't feel anything." He whispered.
"I did. But I'm not going to do anything about it." I answered. I did want him back. I did.
When I went to see Dad in hospice, he was so weak and fragile. His yellow skin clung to his bones. His pot belly is gone. His hair is frayed. But he still has those crystal blue eyes, the same as mine.
We talked and laughed. We traded stories and I showed him pictures of Paul, and he asked if he could keep one. I let him pick, so he picked the one from last Easter.
"How bout that… er what's his name? Liam… where's he? Are y'all still…" He trailed off.
I shrugged, "It's complicated,"
"Go with your gut." He said, "I'll support you the whole way, jus like always."
A tall black nurse walked in and told me there was an emergency, and that I had to leave. She had blood all down her front.
"No." I refused, "What's going on?"
The nurse grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear, "I don't know but whatever it is it's everywhere. It's all over the radio and TV. I just watched a patient die, come back to life and take a chomp out of his wife. The swat team is on the way, I suggest you find a way out and fast. Go wherever you can. Get out."
Sirens exploded out of the air.
I ran to Dad.
"Go." He whispered, "I love you, I'll be fine here. Denise is real nice, she takes care of me. Do as she said, Paul needs you. I don't know what's going on but I want you safe, leave. I love you."
His blue eyes were dead serious. "I love you Dad."
By the time it took me to take every back road I could on my motor cycle to get to Liams house, it was dark. His car was gone. The door was flung open. I ran through his small house several times. I called his cell 40 times.
I searched for tire tracks, foot prints, any clue at all.
Then shit got real.
It was dawn by the time I got to the highway. Thank God, there's someone else here. I weave through cars and trucks on my motor cycle. It looks like Carl, Rick, and Hershel were the first here. I like Hershel, he's sweet and knows how to protect a family. I like Rick because he's a good leader. Carl. Well, he's never in the right place at the right time. He doesn't listen to his mom, but it's gotta be hard on him, I respect him for that.
I'm just glad they're alive. I hurdle off my bike and hug Rick, Carl, then Hershel.
"You alright? Did you see the others make it off the farm? Did you see where they went?" Rick questioned.
"Did you see Beth? Or Maggie? Patricia? Jimmy?" Hershel interrogated me.
"My mom?" Carl asks with tears in his eyes.
I lean against my bike. I hate all this attention and responsibility. "I'm okay. I saw a bunch of cars leave. I couldn't follow them… I was too far behind. I don't really know who's alive or not, I was too busy fighting the… er…"
"You can call them walkers." Hershel says.
"The walkers. But I'm sure they're fine. We are a strong group, we all probably made it." I finish.
I hear more cars in the distance and a smile spreads across my face. Daryl has to be in that group. I turn to see the cars, no RV. Strange. When the cars arrive, people file out. I saw Lori fling herself out of a car and hug Rick and Carl. Beth and Maggie went straight to Hershel. T-Dog strutted over to Rick. Glenn hung tight beside Maggie. Wheres Carol? And… Daryl?
"Where are Carol and Daryl?" I ask. Nobody answers.
"What if they are still at the farm?" I ask.
Rick comes towards me, "I'm sure he's fine. Daryl can take care of-"
I climb on my bike, "Sorry Rick. I've let too many people go because I've been too careless or because people have held me back. I probably won't return, so I just want to say; thank you Rick, you're a great guy; Glenn, thanks so much for being a great supply guy, you're my hero. I don't know what I would've done without those Advil's when I'm feeling crampy. Carl, listen to your parents, you're a good kid; T-Dog, man you still owe me from all those poker games; Lori, good luck with the baby, I'm so happy for you. Hershel; you have saved our butts plenty of times; I can't explain how grateful I am of you. Beth, whatever you do, keep on fighting, you're so beautiful and strong. Maggie, you've got a good man. Don't let him go."
They all stare at me as I put on my helmet and started my bike.
Glenn starts, "Brandy, please don't go. You don't need to."
I glare at him, "Don't you tell me what I need to do."
I turn my bike around to face where we came from, the barn. I'm going to get Daryl. I'm leaving my group. Home is where the heart is, and my heart isn't here.
Brum brum brum. The sound echo's through the air.I know that sound. He's alive. I see a big black Harley in the distance. By the time I get off my bike, he and Carol arrive. Carol gets off the back of his bike and walks towards Lori.
I look at Daryl. His hair had grown since the first time I saw him. He had sexy stubble on his chin. His arms, oh my Lord, his biceps were at least three times as big as Ricks, and Rick is strong.
I run towards Daryl and jump into his embrace. This is one of our good times, one of those times where he is- I don't know- open, emotional.
"You had me thinkin you were gone." He says, his southern drawl bouncing around in my head.
Hot tears I didn't know I was holding fell onto his dirty shirt. I wipe them off undetectably.
"They had me thinking you were dead too." I whisper.
He takes my head and looks at me eye level. I melt into his deep blue eyes.
"I ain't gon leave you. But I'm fraid if I don't keep an eye on ya, you might leave me. Accidentally of-"
"I'm a big girl Daryl; I can take care of myself." I protest.
He narrows his eyes at me, like he's trying to be mad. Ha, that's cute.
"I want cha to stay by my side whenever somethin' like that happens."
"I'm not your bitch." I hiss.
"You ain't nobody's bitch." Daryl murmurs as he toys with my hair.
We turn to the group; Rick looks like he's giving a speech. Everyone looks sad. I tune in.
Rick squeezes the bridge of her nose, "So nobody knows where Andrea is?"
"Andrea's gone?" I ask. I liked Andrea sometimes, before she was a dangerous suicidal freak.
"We don't know," T-Dog answers. Daryl takes my hand gingerly.
All of the sudden, Carol cries out, "She was saving me. I didn't see her from there on. I'm so sorry." Tears spill out of her grey eyes. Lori gives her a protective hug.
"I think it would be a bad decision to go back." Hershel states. I love Hershel, he's a kind man. I just love how he talks. He is always so deliberate with his words and the way he speaks. He reminds me of my late grandfather.
"Anyone speak against that?" Rick asks the group.
It's bad, and we all know it's bad, but we don't want to go back for Andrea. We can't risk it and I know all of us are just too shy to speak out.
I wish Dale was here. He'd know what to say. Dale was my pal. I cried for a whole day after he died. And the fact that Daryl had to be the one to put him out. It hurt so badly.
"Looks like we might need to stay here for about an hour, just to relax, given we are all tired. Let's just chill here." Rick suggested.
Daryl stepped in, "We needa go. Too dangerous, too many bastards like this one." He rose up his crossbow and shot a walker that nobody else noticed.
Rick nodded, "Let's go then."
Carol climbed into Glenn's car.
"Be careful Carol, Glenn's an Asian driver, might drive ya off tha road." Daryl jokes. I roll my eyes.
"Love you too D-Man." Glenn laughs as he flicks off Daryl.
Daryl gave me one last long look before the crowd left.
That night we stayed in a secure little place. We didn't really have a choice. The Ricktator is kind of losing it. He killed Shane. I played a lot of card games with Shane. He tried to kiss me once. Once. I set that man straight though. We were friends.
Rick and Shane were more than friends, more than best friends. They were brothers. You don't kill brothers. But if Rick is telling the truth, and Shane did try to kill him, it was probably only self-defense. Self-defense taken a little too far. I guess I understand, I mean if Daryl came after me, I would take self-defense. But… I wouldn't kill him.
I fell into a peaceful slumber with Daryl's arms around me, temporary of course, his night shift was next. I felt his cool breath on my neck and his heart beat in my ear. I felt… safe, despite the circumstances.
I was on a long dusty road. I was moving down it on a horse. Daryl rode beside me, looking straight ahead with a slight look of antipathy on his face.
"Daryl?" I ask. He was wearing all white, clean. His face was spotless for once. I looked down at my clothes, clean. White.
"Daryl? What's going on?" I plead. His anger seems to spread on his face like a typhoon.
His head turned sharply to look at me. He looked sad. "I love you." He whispered.
Then he was gone. Disappeared into thin air. I screamed for him. My horse went faster and faster. There was a gap ahead! A long abyss. No! I'll die if my horse doesn't slow down. I pulled on the reigns tighter and tighter but my horse was like a machine. I looked across the abyss and saw people. People that I miss so much. I see Paul, my dad, Patricia, Jimmy, Sophia, countless people. I call for Paul, my dad, I call all of their names but no one notices me. They all stare straight behind me. I turn to see what it is, and I see Daryl. Rick. Carol. Lori. My entire group. Then I see Andrea, off in the distance with some tall black girl.
"Help!" I scream. "Help me, please!"
"Jump!" Andrea screamed. So I did.
I wake with a start, sweat pouring down my back. I'm nowhere near my group. I don't know where I am. Damn, I hate sleep walking.
Ohhhughhhh. The low moan nears and nears. I know what it is. I feel around for my knife and pull it out. A walker emerges from the shrub. Half of his face is missing and his jaw dangled. He wore camo pants, had a pistol and an axe on his belt. I run over and stick the knife in his skull. I pull the pistol and axe from him and take off. I follow my sense of direction, which usually doesn't fail me.
I see the group in the distance, Rick is on watch.
When I near, he asks, "Where have you been? We had to put restraints on Daryl to keep him from tracking you, convinced him to wait till dawn."
"Sorry, Cap. Had a bad case of sleep walking." I say innocently.
Rick nods, "Go on back. Daryl will be pleased to see you. Woke me up, shakin' me like a mad man. He screamed 'She's gone! We gotta go get her! Brandy's gone!' Glenn, T-Dog and I had to restrain him while Lori and Beth tried to calm him. He screamed at us, telling us the same would happen to him as did Merle if they restrained him. He was in hysterics; he really cares for you, Bran. I hope you realize that." He hands me the key to the cuffs.
I smile, "Keep your guard up. Walkers are out there."
The rest of the group sits huddled by the wall, sleeping. Daryl is handcuffed to a pole sticking out of the ground, poor baby. I stroll over to where he sleeps and plop down silently. He wakes up anyway.
"Let me get your cuffs off." I whisper as I insert the key into the lock and pop off the cuffs.
He looks like he could explode in anger. I propose, "Let's go for a walk." That usually helps with his anger.
"Think you've done nuff walkin." He hisses as he grabs his crossbow and knife.
I take his hand and lead him away from the group.
"Don't be mad." I plead as he leans against a tree trunk.
"Want me to be happy?" He growls, "Look girl, I don't do relationships. I don't know what chu think this is."
"What is it then?" I ask. That hurt a little bit.
"Damn if I know. I'm not used to this. I don't understand what's gon on. You're changin me some way, somehow. You explain. I dunno why I can't concentrate when you're around. I looked at girls before but not like this. Just forget it, jeez. We aren't anythin. We're friends."
"You mean that?" I whisper, shrinking against the dark atmosphere.
"Damn right." He hisses.
The sun started coming up over his shoulder. I feel so rejected. I know I shouldn't take it seriously but he is the only real thing I cling to anymore.
I nod solemnly and walk away.
Two
We roll up on a fortress, a big prison fortress. There are loads of walkers, but once we clean it out it should be a nice place. We trundle in guns a blazin' and knives slicing.. I keep my distance from everyone as we attack the walkers. I'm a machine, slicing, dicing, and dodging. I'm an emotionless wrecking ball, I don't care who these people were before, I just want them dead now.
I let my guard down for one second, just one second and an overweight walker tumbles onto me. My knife clashes to the ground. I regret both separating myself from the group and keeping my gun in my back pocket. I scream and try to push him off but he's three times my size. His breath pours into my mouth and I resist the urge to puke. I can't breathe through my nose because the smell is just too overwhelming. His white eyes are pleading me, give in, give up. Both my arms are supporting his neck; I let one arm go to get my knife. His face is instantly three times closer. His jaws snap and could easily bite my nose if I'm not careful. I slowly reach my arm out to grab the knife, almost there. I have to strain my arm; it's just out of fingers reach. My index finger wraps around it and I quickly lodge it into his skull.
He falls onto me with a thud and I feel the real weight of him. My breath leaves me. I try to call for help but it only comes out as a hoarse whisper. I try to push him off again but it's useless. Stars invade my vision and everything gets blurry. It all starts fading to black… Suddenly the weight is gone and I can breathe again. I look up to see T-Dog, Rick, and Daryl above me. Rick grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. T-Dog gives me a firm pat on the back. As for Daryl, he's off finishing the walkers.
Sweat pours down my face and down my back. It gets harder and harder to fight as I lose energy. Luckily, most of the outside is cleared out. Once the last walker drops to the ground, Rick signals for us to move on in. I go in second, after T-Dog. There is a walker at the receptionist desk and a mangled man by the couches in the waiting room. Rick takes out both of them. The doors look secure so we all take a breather. We've been going all or nothing for at least two hours. I plop onto the floor.
"Everyone all right?" Rick asks. Everyone nods solemnly.
"Let's go on in then," Hershel suggests.
"I just want to get it over with." I say.
Rick says, "You feeling alright, Brandy? You look a little green."
My head spins as I get off the ground. Maggie catches my arm as I start to plummet back down. "Fine, fine." I mutter. I try to get back up but gravity is a harsh victor. Maybe it's not gravity. Faces, colors and shapes all blur and fade to black. The last thing I see is Daryl rushing towards me...
