Author's Note: In terms of the existence of zombies specifically in the FTWD universe, this story deliberately goes against canon to explore the idea of how these characters would react to the blurring of the lines between fiction and reality. In regards to this story, it will loosely follow the television show, but I will be altering events as the plot progresses. I will also be attempting to keep the family alive apart from a few certain unavoidable instances, as killing core characters would impact negatively upon the story. Videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my Youtube channel via the link on my profile.
In Our Chaos Is Calculation
"Is that meant to be ironic?" Tobias said tersely, eyes narrowing.
Lourdes smoothed down the front of her faded t-shirt, brow furrowing. "Yeah, it's a complete symphony of satire," she said, rolling her eyes. "With tropes amongst the trumpets and wit amidst the woodwind."
"I refuse to engage in a war of words with you," Tobias said, swinging his computer chair round, turning his back on her.
Lourdes crossed her arms over her chest, obscuring the words that had upset Tobias so, THIS IS MY ZOMBIE KILLING SHIRT. She'd donned it that day without thinking, nobody else reacting to the slogan except Tobias. His obsession with the undead was only eclipsed by his love for Lara Croft, but as of late, his fixation had become a witch-hunt, his fascination evolving into fear. The recent flu outbreak had seen Tobias trekking through Tor, spending every night on the Dark Web searching for the truth, certain the government were orchestrating a large-scale cover-up. He'd become so paranoid, Lourdes only had to sneeze, and Tobias would dive for cover, convinced her germs would see him joining the ranks of the snake gods.
His fervour disturbed Lourdes, even as it lured her in, enveloping her in its embrace. Together they'd burned Tobias's George Romero film posters, Tobias solemnly announcing in sepulchral tones they were sacrificing ancient fable for unbridled reality, trading fiction for fact. In that moment, Lourdes had suffered a moment of cruel clarity, that this was precisely why she and Tobias were so unpopular, relegated to the sidelines of high school society. Nobody wanted to know about irrational numbers or how a polyhedron had a polygonal base and triangular sides with a common vertex.
"Look at this, Lo," Tobias said loftily, angling the computer screen in her direction, "and see if this piece of visual communication proves me correct in my assumptions about the undead" -
- "Pass me a sleeping bag, Toby," Lourdes said, rolling her eyes again, "I've got a feeling I'm gonna be here all night."
Tobias just fixed her with an icy glare, Lourdes ignoring him, stooping down to see the screen, her hair falling around her face, framing it with darkness. With a heavy sigh, Tobias clicked play, filling the silence with static, Lourdes watching the scene unfold, the picture grainy and dark, making it hard to make out exactly what was happening. The footage looked like it had been taken from a window, going straight into zoom, focusing on a small figure in an alleyway, the camera shaking, making the figure blur in and out of focus. What disturbed Lourdes the most though was the way it just stood there, its stillness unnerving. But before she could blink, it suddenly shot forwards, staggering at an almost sprint, its head flapping sideways onto its shoulder, becoming almost detached from its neck.
Lourdes violently reeled back, Tobias muting the screams, his face filled with pompous satisfaction. "See?" he said, trying and failing to hide his triumph.
"See what?" Lourdes tried to say coolly, her heart still pounding in her chest.
"The truth!" Tobias exclaimed, flapping his flabby hand at the screen.
"It looks fake," Lourdes said, struggling to keep her voice steady.
Tobias just looked at her as though she'd just thrown up a hairball. "It looks fake?" he echoed icily. "Are you blind?"
"Okay, you don't need to start insulting the visually impaired to get your point across," Lourdes snapped. "I get it. You believe it's real. If you want to be cozened, that's your choice, not mine."
"If I want to be tempted by the truth, so be it," Tobias said, assuming what Lourdes called his Spock air, "you can't stop me from being lured onto the rocks."
"Let me be your Lorelei instead," Lourdes said mockingly. "You know you want to."
"Where art thou oh Rhine?" Tobias pretended to ponder.
"Geography jerk," Lourdes muttered, picking up his battered Pikachu, turning it over in her hands.
"Mythology whore," Tobias taunted, spinning round and round on his seat.
"So says the token Tolkein tart," Lourdes parried.
"You win," Tobias said, sighing heavily, spinning to a stop.
"Don't I always?" Lourdes said with supreme satisfaction.
I don't ever think about death
It's alright if you do, it's fine
We gladiate but I guess we're really fighting ourselves
Roughing up our minds so we're ready when the kill time comes…
"Late night study session again?" Alicia asked, leaning against the doorway, making Lourdes glance up.
"None of your beeswax," Lourdes said lightly, resuming her search for her broderie anglaise blouse. Why her father believed she and Alicia could be best friends forever was beyond her. He thought they would bond over straight As and acceptance letters, but the opposite had occurred, each girl instantly disliking the other on sight. For Alicia, she didn't appreciate the extra competition, whilst Lourdes couldn't stomach Alicia's superior set-downs. But Lourdes's flippant tone belied the sleepless night she'd spent tossing and turning, haunted by the small figure in the alleyway, her imagination adding shade and tone to the memory; the smell of smoke, the breeze ruffling her black hair, the scrape of its feet over the concrete as it came towards her -
"Whoa, what's with you?" Alicia said, startling Lourdes. "Why are you all spaced out? You high or something?"
Lourdes did a double-take. "Do I look like Nick to you?" she said before she could stop herself, her words making Alicia pale.
"Screw you," Alicia spat, before turning on her heel and leaving, her long brown hair whirling behind her. Lourdes just ignored her, continuing her search, repressing her regret, fighting herself. That had been a low blow about Alicia's older brother, but Alicia had made an even lower accusation. If Alicia wasn't invading Lourdes's privacy, she was taunting her about Tobias, or telling tales to Travis and Madison about Lourdes staying out too late, making out Lourdes was making out with whackjob guys on the sly.
Travis knew Lourdes too well to pay any heed to Alicia's fables, but Alicia's mother was a whole other story. Madison was the guidance counsellor at Lourdes's new school, and she had a habit of bringing her work home with her. She tended to bully and baby Tobias like a mother hen, shielding him from the other teachers, seeing potential in him when they didn't. Now thanks to Alicia's big mouth, Madison was turning her maternal guns on Lourdes, waylaying her at home and in the school hallway, always watching, waiting for Lourdes to crack like Nick had.
Lourdes liked Madison well enough, even as she annoyed her with her constant slang and offhand approach to life. But if Madison was going to worry about anyone, it should have been about her own daughter. To the world Alicia presented an unruffled facade, oddly mature, calm and self-contained. But behind closed doors, she lost that strange dignity and reverted back to childhood, behaving like a spoilt brat. It didn't take a psychiatrist to see Alicia was overcompensating, driving herself to desperate lengths so she wouldn't end up like her brother, condemned to the wasteland of life.
Abandoning her search for her broderie anglaise blouse, Lourdes settled for her Snoopy t-shirt instead, the yellow having faded to a bitter butter shade. Snatching it up, along with her favourite ripped jeans, she pulled out clean underwear from her bottom drawer before heading for the bathroom. Back at her mother's apartment, Lourdes had her own bathroom, a luxury she'd only come to appreciate since moving into Madison's house. Come this weekend though, she'd be back in her old room, with only space and silence before her, her little brother supposedly spending the weekend here instead.
Lourdes had chosen to live with Travis, whilst Christopher had made the decision to stay with their mother Liza. But she'd made her choice without any animosity, whilst Christopher had launched himself on a one-man crusade against Travis. Lourdes had been relieved when her parents had split up, but the divorce had broken something in Christopher, turning him into a monster. Lourdes had never seen her brother so angry before, and the ferocity of his rages frightened her, even as she hid her fear, hoping it was just a phase he was going through.
The settlement had involved sharing custody of the children, laying out that Lourdes spent one weekend with her mother, whilst Christopher spent the same weekend with Travis, then swapping over the next week; the following week then seeing both teenagers stay the weekend with Travis, then swapping over again, spending it with Liza instead. Whilst Lourdes had adapted to these arrangements with ease, dropping by her mother's during the week as well, Christopher had dug his heels in, kicking up merry hell. It was only now that he'd reluctantly agreed to stay over at Madison's, but Lourdes suspected he would be a no show, going AWOL all over again.
As she reached for the bathroom door handle, Alicia was there, almost appearing out of thin air, barging past her, slamming the bathroom door in Lourdes's startled face. As the bang bounced off the walls, making them shudder, Lourdes suddenly snapped, throwing herself against the hardwood, pounding it with her fists. "You goddamn bitch!" she bellowed, rattling the door handle. "I was first!"
"And you need to be quicker on the draw," Madison said sagely, sailing past, "it's survival of the fittest around here."
"Lourdes, come on!" Madison yelled, banging two bowls down on the table.
"I'm not eating that, Mom," Alicia said, throwing the bag of bread aside.
"It's gluten frickin' free," Madison snapped, before yelling for Lourdes again.
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that part," Travis said from under the sink. "Could you repeat it again, please?"
"Ha, ha," Madison said, deadpan. "You're so funny, babe."
"Yeah, you'll be on Saturday Night Live next," Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "I can hardly wait."
At this point, Lourdes stormed into the kitchen, her dark hair dripping, face furious. Before Madison could react, she was launching herself at Alicia, jabbing her finger in her face. "Bathroom-swerve me again," she spat, "and I'll rip your hair out. Understood?"
"Whoa, whoa," Madison said, stepping inbetween them, "calm it down. It's breakfast time, not battle-time."
Lourdes fell back, still seething, Alicia smirking.
"Sit down, honey," Madison said, shooting her daughter a warning glare, "and I'll fix you up something."
Lourdes reluctantly obeyed, the screech of her chair making Madison wince. Then Alicia's cell suddenly went off, blasting some obscure rap number, startling everyone, Alicia included. She got up, leaving the room, only answering it when she was out of earshot.
Seeing her gone, Travis emerged from underneath the sink. "What's with the bitch-fest, Lo?" Travis said, half sitting up, trying to cover up his concern with humour. "You were giving Joan Rivers a run for her money there."
"She bathroom-swerved me, Dad," Lourdes snapped, "it's like one of the seven sins."
Travis repressed a grin at this, Madison doing the same, burying her blonde head in the cupboard.
Lourdes glanced at the sink parts scattered across the tiles, distracted despite herself. "What's going on?" she asked, brow furrowing. "Am I witnessing the birth of yet another pet project?" Her father's pet projects had acquired legendary status within the Manawa family, his attempts at DIY usually ending in destruction. The memory of his attempts at building a rabbit hutch from scratch still made Lourdes crack up with laughter, but not now.
"I'm trying to save money," Travis said loftily. "Three hundred dollars to be exact."
"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," Lourdes quoted, slumping back in her seat.
"It is broken," Travis countered, "which is why I'm fixing it."
"You should really phone the plumber, babe," Madison reproved, making Lourdes wince. Her father was human, not a hog, as Lourdes had once remarked to Tobias during a discourse about Madison's extravagant use of endearments.
"Oh ye of little faith," Travis intoned, ducking under the sink again.
"His number's on the fridge," Madison continued, pulling out a packet of Pop-Tarts, "the Poirers highly recommended him." At this, the house phone started ringing, the sound strangely ominous. "Would you get that, sweetheart?" Madison asked Lourdes, going over to the fridge. "If it's Sarah from the PTA, tell her I'm not in."
Lourdes rolled her eyes, dragging herself over to the kitchen counter. "Hello?" she trilled, answering the call. "Clark residence, may I ask who's calling?" But as the person at the other end of the line started speaking, reeling off a list of details Lourdes didn't hear, she took a step back, crashing into the counter, the words car, Nick, hospital, clashing together like cymbals in her skull.
"What's wrong, honey?" Madison said, stepping forwards, face anxious. "Who is it?"
"It's - it's Nick," Lourdes stuttered, "he's - he's had an accident" -
Madison snatched the phone from her, Travis clambering out from under the sink, smacking his head off its underside. As Madison started firing frantic sentences down the line, Travis staggering to his feet, Lourdes left the room, her head spinning, barging past Alicia who was sitting on the stairs, her mobile clamped to her ear, oblivious to her brother's fate. In one moment, everything had changed, but Lourdes now realised what nobody else did yet, that the world would never be the same again.