Disclaimer: The Walking Dead and its characters belong to Robert Kirkman (and AMC). All OCs belong to me.
But I Have Promises To Keep
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Keira was tired of blood.
There was too much of it nowadays. She didn't like how it stained her clothes. She didn't like how it stuck to her skin.
She didn't like how it oozed from the small body in her arms.
Keira was tired of blood, tired of running, tired of fighting for her life. She just wanted to lay down her arms and rest. She wanted to let it all end but—
"You're gonna live for the both of us, okay?"
But she made a promise.
Shaking, she brought the small body closer and put her ear to its chest for what felt like the millionth time, hoping against all odds that she would hear the light thump of a heartbeat. But Keira knew it was dead; she had delivered the final blow. Slowly, she pulled away, chancing a glance at the once angelic face: skin covered in dirt, a small hole caked with blood where her knife had pierced its forehead, and glassy dead eyes. She turned and vomited in the grass beside her.
The area was quiet, save for the sound of Keira emptying the contents of her stomach. The hot Georgia sun was unrelenting today, and with the heat came the smell of death that almost had her vomiting again. Figures, with all those corpses lying around, rotting in the sun for hours. Hours. Had it only been that long? She felt as though she'd been sitting there shaking for days. The undead had come in the night, had caught her off guard, and if she just hadn't dozed off, if she hadn't gotten too comfortable, there could have been one less corpse in that yard.
Carefully, she turned back to the body and brought her hand to its face, gently pulling the eyelids closed. That's when she remembered the necklace; a little wooden owl totem strung on a piece of twine. Keira thought about the day she had spent hand carving that necklace: she was sitting in a yard not unlike this one, hair pulled back and a good ten splinters in her hand, squinting hard as she completed the fine details. She remembered giving the little totem away to the person she held most dear.
Doing her best not to break down, she pulled the neck of the shirt down on the body. There it was, even after five years, still lying against the once beating heart. With a tenderness she didn't know she still had, she untied the twine and pulled the necklace away. Perhaps it was selfish to remove it, but now, as alone as she was, she needed the little totem much more than the dead body before her. A body, that's all it was. Just an empty shell that used to hold a beautiful spirit. A spirit she hoped was far away by now.
Wherever you are, please don't ever look back at this dreadful place.
Keira realized she was no longer crying. Perhaps her well of tears had dried up.
This isn't the world I wanted you to live in, let alone die in.
She looked down at the bloody body again. She took its hand in hers and just held on.
Don't look back, okay? You don't need to watch over me. I promise I'll look after myself, I promise I'll stay alive for the both of us. I promise.
Keira took the body into her arms once more and closed her eyes, trying to remember what an embrace used to feel like. She could do this; she had to at least try.
She jumped when she heard something break the nearly impenetrable silence. Footsteps; dry grass crunching beneath someone's shoes.
"Hey… hey are you alright?"
Keira slowly turned towards the sound of the stranger's voice. He was tall and thin, blond hair in a buzz cut and arms covered in tattoos. He was armed only with a hunting knife as he approached her cautiously. When he caught sight of the body cradled in her arms, he stopped his approach altogether.
"Oh my God… Hey, come on, are you okay? Are you bitten?"
She shook her head, still staring at him. He looked at the carnage surrounding them.
"You do all this?" he asked, gesturing to the rotting corpses. Keira nodded.
"Jesus. Ok, well, uh… Do you maybe wanna—wanna come with me? You look like you need some help. I'm with a little group just up the road. If you want we could, uh, get you cleaned up. Maybe get some food in you? You look like you could use a good night's sleep too."
She nodded again, dazed.
He looked at her quizzically. "Can you talk?"
She couldn't bear to look at him as she shook her head.
"Well, that might be for the best anyway. Gonna need to be real quiet if we wanna get back safely. Come on then, it's okay."
He walked over to her, always with caution. With her nodded consent, he picked up her duffel bag and burlap sack, hoisting them over his shoulder. Keira picked up her bow and slung it onto her back alongside her quiver before slowly and carefully lifting the small weightless body. She followed the man as he led her away from the yard. She could debate on his trustworthiness later. For now, she would just try to stay alive.
I promise.
A/N: My Walking Dead withdrawal syndrome pushed me to FINALLY start posting this story. This chapter's a little short, but it's a prologue of sorts, so don't worry chapters will be longer.
This is going to be an emotional (yet still action-packed) ride, so BUCKLE UP FOLKS!
Please review! :D
