So I started writing this story because I'm one of those people who believes that Rick doesn't get enough love from writers. Plus, the idea has been bouncing around in my head since Season 5 started. I must warn you, I can be an unpredictable writer due to the way my life goes, but I swear to you if people are enjoying the story, I will do as much as I can to get it finished. So without further adieu, welcome to the first chapter of Evie's story.
Breakaway Chapter 1
For most survivors, it was easy to look at the world and see the evil that had been left to taint and purge whatever purity remained. For Evie things were different... because she had been exposed to the terrors that humanity could produce before the end of the world began. As a small girl with grazed knees and dresses too short, she had been left behind by her parents when they foolishly drove in a car intoxicated, leaving her to fend for herself – just eight years old. Honestly, she thought it was miracle she had lasted that long with the amount of shattering pottery she must of dodged during their heated arguments and the sounds of terrible battles fought downstairs as she hid in her wardrobe.
But that was a different life. This life was no kinder to her. Evie remembered the beginning like it was yesterday. It had started with strange news reports, then an attack in the city, before finally having to run for her life, clinging to her boyfriend's arm. Even he left her eventually. Now here she sat, alone, in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a small fire, rucksack and daggers to keep her company. Any normal person would probably despise humanity after what she had been through, but normality didn't exist any more and nor did her hatred. She missed people too much.
Evie sighed, lying her head back on the sleeping bag she had unravelled just a few minutes before. Being alone was always dangerous, but especially so in the night. Isolation meant that she had nobody to watch her back while she slept, the consequences being that she hardly slept at all. She imagined her eyes to look like sunken ships and as bruised and black as her mother after a particularly loud thud and her brown curly hair probably resembled that of a feral dog – untameable.
Evie giggled at the notion. Here she was, in the middle of a dank forest, every second clinging to life, and all she could do was worry over the way she looked. It's not like there was anyone there to give a shit.
With that, a loud shout sounded from close by. Instantly Evie shot up from her sleeping bag, grabbing her precious daggers, and ran in that particular direction, leaving everything else behind – including the only gun she possessed. But finally there were people! It had been so long and she barely wished to hope...
It didn't take long for Evie to enter at a small parting in the forest, the grunting of the dead guiding her to two people, the first a handsome man who looked to be in his late thirties and the second a much younger boy, fighting back a small horde of the tainted. One in particular clawed his way to the older gentleman, catching him unawares as they both toppled to the ground.
Evie gasped before dashing forwards and kicking the creature up and over before slicing the dagger in her right hand straight through its skull. The man went through a second of shock before quickly regaining his composure, clambering off the ground to shoot another between its paled eyes. One more almost grabbed the boy, who seemed to be unarmed, but Evie quickly snapped its leg with her foot before piercing her left dagger into its rotted skin.
A few seconds went by with nothing said, a bunch of heavy breathing the only audible sound. The older man stared at her with a careful expression and piercing blue eyes, whilst the boy gazed at the man she assumed was his father. Evie knew this was make or break. She didn't want to be out here all alone any more, she was desperate and if there was any chance these people were good... she just had to go with them.
"Thank you." The man's whole body language screamed guarded, but showed dominance at the same time. His left hand hung loosely on his hips, his body facing slightly towards her, his gun held in her direction but not fully pointed at her. This was a man who knew what he was doing and no matter what, he probably wouldn't have needed her help anyway... but she needed his.
She shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem indifferent about the whole thing. The rotted blood dripping off her daggers made it a little difficult, however. "It's fine... I-It was nothing."
"Dad?-"
"Just a minute, Carl." The man she now knew was the father to the boy still never averted his gaze. He was weighing her up, testing her. Silence seemed to pass for another eternity before he scowled. "Why?"
Evie was almost shocked when he spoke that she didn't actually hear what he said, or gathered its meaning. "Hm?"
"Why help us? You don't know us." Agitation and fatigue were audible, an exasperated tone to his gruff voice accompanying it.
"I... I don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to do." The fact she was desperate for company could be left out of the conversation, she thought. "You needed help... and you're the first people I've seen in a long time so..."
"You don't have a group? A camp?"
She snorted. "Oh yeah, I have a camp. The complete residency consists of me... just me." It was difficult to cloud the sorrow she felt when speaking that particular sentence. Just saying words at all felt alien. She had almost forgotten how to talk.
He hummed, his eyes glowering to reflect his deep thought. His son, Carl, seemed to be guessing what his father could be thinking as he looked for any recognition. The man shrugged, lowering his gun further. That was progress, right? "How many walkers have you killed?" The question caught her off guard, but his son seemed to ease himself. Evie had no idea of the significance, but evidently it meant something to him.
"I..." She was confused and thought this line of questioning pointless but if she was to get into their good graces, she had better do as she was asked. "I don't know. A lot. I haven't kept count..."
The answer seemed to satisfy him. "How many people have you killed?"
It took every ounce of willpower she had left to not dodge and run at the question. She didn't want to think about that time... the last time she saw people. "T-three." In an attempt to stand tall—to look fearless—she raised her head ever so slightly, but she knew to him she was transparent.
His eyes, if possible, narrowed further. "Why?"
That was it. Now she had to think about it. A single tear formed in her right eye before slowly trickling down her cheek. "Because they attacked us- me... I meant me." Indifference wasn't Evie's strong point when she had been emotionally compromised and now the man looked at her with even more suspicion. She had caught herself in the lie and she sighed. "Fine. Us. Me and my partner... He didn't make it."
The stranger's face softened immediately as he clicked the safety back on his gun before returning it to its sheath, giving her reason to breath. "What's your name?"
"Evie." She said simply, finally feeling brave enough to risk leaning down to clean her daggers. "Do you have a name?"
"Rick. Rick Grimes. This is my son, Carl." He gestured to the kid who tipped his hat in greeting. "We have a camp full of people. If you like, you could come with us-"
"Yes!" Shit. She spoke far too quickly... "Sorry... I mean, yes. That would be really good." Carl didn't try to hide his amusement at the situation, whereas Rick seemed to be attempting to stifle his smile. The expressions on both of their faces relaxed her, so much so that she burst into a fit of giggles herself. "A-as you can probably tell, I haven't spoken to people in a long time."
"Hm. Well, it looks as if that is about the change." She smirked at him, but it faltered as his expression returned serious. "I'm going to need to ask you to hand me your weapons until we arrive." Now Evie's smile disappeared completely, her hands twitching over the hilts of her daggers. Her brown eyes gleamed with anxiety at the thought of being defenceless against such an overpowering presence. People had never given her a reason to trust them, but she always had. Perhaps it was time to learn her lesson and leave...
No. She had come this far and she needed this.
"Will I get them back?" She asked nervously.
"As soon as we know we can trust you." Her heart deflated at the resounding insinuation that she was untrustworthy. If she was willing to give a little trust, then perhaps he should too. As if sensing her displeasure, he spoke again. "There are more than just 'us' in our group. There are children, elderly... We're trying to protect them." Evie smiled earnestly. For once, in a long time, she believed those words completely. Perhaps it wasn't a question of trust, but more of a dying need to defend those he loved. Evie was certain she'd do the same if she was in his position.
"Okay." After unsheathing the daggers from her belt, she passed them to Rick who held out his hands awaiting them.
"Do you have any other weapons on you?" She shook her head, but quickly remembered the bolt-action rifle that lay dormant back in her camp. But before she could open her mouth, he spoke first. "Mind if I check?"
"Eh... yeah?" Instantly, Rick moved forward and started patting her down. Their close proximity making her uncomfortable... She hadn't been near a person in God knows how long and now there was a perfectly handsome man feeling for weapons... He was making it difficult to concentrate. "But I should probably let you know I have a scoped rifle back at my camp. Do you mind if we go back there? The rifle has some sentimental value." Evie didn't want to give too much away of its significance, but it had been her father's... No matter what she thought of him before he died, he had still fought in wars before, and once had been her hero.
"We can do that." He said, finishing up searching her. "I'm surprised you left it behind in the first place then."
She frowned, sensing the disbelief in his tone. "When I heard your scuffle... I just grabbed the closest weapons to me, which of course were my daggers considering they never leave my side. I'm sorry for not wanting you to die. I'll try and remember to take priority in my gun next time." The sarcasm wasn't lost on him.
"We'll wait here. You'll go back to your camp and collect whatever you need."
"Why can't you-?" She stopped herself as he looked at her incredulously. He really struggled to trust anyone, didn't he? "Okay, fine. I shouldn't be too long..." Evie turned on her heel and began walking back towards the direction of her camp, before realising she had nothing to defend herself with. "Could I have at least one of my daggers back? I really wouldn't like to run into any trouble and not have anything to defend myself with."
Rick moved on his heel uncomfortably, his feet shifting. "Dad... You can't let her go without anything to defend herself." His father's eyes moved in his direction for just a second before nodding.
"Here." He handed over one dagger, clutching the other tightly in his hands. "I'll hold onto this one. Think of it as insurance."
She smirked knowingly and then saluted half-heartedly with the hand not retrieving the weapon. "Fair enough. See you in a minute, then."
Once she had disappeared into the forest bushes once more, Rick got out his gun and clicked off the safety. "Take this, Carl." He held out the woman's dagger, but his son made no move to grab it. "Just in case." He said in attempt to put the boy's mind at rest.
"But she seems okay, Dad..."
"I know, but she may have gone back to get others... We have to be careful." He nudged the dagger forwards and this time Carl took it, holding it out in a defensive gesture. "Just remember, don't use it unless you really have to." His face fell, but he knew the rules.
"I think you like her, too." Carl muttered after a moment of silence. Rick said nothing, but he had seen some good in her and that was why he was giving her the same chance as anyone else.
A twig snapped under a foot and they both instantly turned to the source of the noise. Out of the brushes appeared Evie, carrying a rucksack on her back and the bolt-action rifle she spoke of. When she entered the opening she held out the rifle for him to take, and he did. The dagger followed soon after. "Fancy searching it for weapons?" She smiled, gesturing to the bag on her shoulder.
He returned her amused expression with a smile of his own. "I don't think that'll be necessary."
Disclaimer: I do not own any contents of 'The Walking Dead'.
