This event took place after the canon death of Bill in "The Sacrifice" comic, before "The Passing". If you are unaware of the happenings in those official media, it is best that you take a look at that first.
None of this is official in any way, in case people get confused.
Chapter 1: Out of my mind
"Hey."
No answer.
"Hey."
Still no answer.
"Hey Zoey!"
That unnecessary loud call was directed at the pondering girl atop the bridge's control panel. Her undeniable calm expression, dark locks, pink jumpsuit and plump lips were much the same, but no longer her mental strength. Francis was getting sick of that; for even after his screaming into her ear, she was not paying him any mind. The hard headed, tattoo-covered biker could not do much else, though, for he was unable to blame her actions, or lack thereof, at all. They had been staying up on the raised bridge for the last hour, doing basically nothing but keeping a look out, and there was not much to look out for. Even though it might cost them dearly should they be tongue-tied by some Smoker up at this height; any activity at all would have, at the very least, taken their minds off of a much bigger crisis.
"Francis, I think we should leave her alone for now." Louis waved his hot-headed teammate towards him. He was basically an invalid at this point, having his leg injured severely before the fight and could not move at all, by himself at least. Francis murmured something incoherently, while helping Louis up on his feet.
"I don't even wanna know when little Miss Sunshine would be less grouchy." Francis spitted at the river below out of frustration. He was definitely feeling her loss as well, but according to the biker, it never would have done anything good for them if she just stayed like that. He felt anyone being rational would have agreed. "I don't know about you man, but I'm sick of waiting like this."
"It's quite a bit out of our hand at this point." Louis shrugged at that notion, as he was being eased off to a east side of the bridge, facing the generator and looking out to the open area not so long ago was filled with crawling Infected. He wished he could boast to someone how the three of them took them all out, but there was no one he could have shown off to. It was not like they were able to fully decimate them either. The Infected horde was still there, just no longer intense and raging like before, but dispersed and back to its idle state. The two of them have been keeping watch for a while, staring far into the city, but saw no sign of activities other than the wandering dead. "I've got to say that this is nerve wrecking in itself though."
"How long are we going to wait here like this?" Francis was obviously losing his patience, not like he had much at first. His right hand was supporting Louis, while his left hand was still holding the Sniper Rifle like holding onto dear life. There was nothing short of breaking his hand would make him drop that gun right now, as it is of utmost important after all. "It's been like… forever, and what exactly are we even waiting for?"
"I'm not sure. No one is telling us what to do either." Louis seemed rather resentful saying that. Being the optimistic type, it was rare for his vocabulary to come across such gloomy words. However, what they have just been through was a bit too traumatic, even for him. Francis was on the same boat, considering how he hung his head at hearing those words.
Out of the blue, there was definitely something that was catching their attention. It sounded a lot like a car engine, coming from the other side of the bridge. It was not particularly long, but considering how Louis could not walk to save his life, Francis had to do something. Curiosity was getting to all of them after all.
"Don't move alright?" Louis favoured his fellow male teammate a glare, obviously not taking too lightly to that joke. Francis did not seem to care much though, as it had been a while since he was able to make any progress. "I'll go check it out."
"Be careful man." Louis sent his friend off with a concern, which flew right through the biker's head. Life was supposed to be lived after all, why bother with such right now? Of course, that thought was what he would have though, if today did not happen. Right now, he simply nodded and silently walked to the other side of the bridge, in order to catch a glimpse of what was happening on the far side.
As he strolled leisurely across the vast open steel construction, Francis was torn on whether he would treat what was going to happen as eager or not. Shrugging, he simply dropped his gun and approached the last of the thick cables holding up what he was walking on right now. He saw nothing as of yet, and it took a few steps down the stairs for him to be able to spot an individual. What he saw first was a pony tail, and a rather emotional face, climbing up the stairs near him. The biker grinned and leaned on the catwalk in order to take a better look at that person. It was female, seemingly his age or a bit less, African American, wearing a pink T-shirt and sporting blue jeans. He craned his eyebrow, as he did not expect another survivor at all.
"Ugh, I hate stairs." The female exclaimed. She seemed to have climbed for quite a bit as well, if her apparent perspiration was of any judge.
"Oh my God!" Francis seemed interested in her, at least for the moment. Making witty comments was not out of his original game plan, as he was just trying to catch her attention. That was fun. It has always been fun. "You hate stuff too?"
"Sure." The female shrugged. She seemed rather unsurprised by the appearance of the biker, which he thought was interesting. He was unsure of how long she was out here, but at least she seemed confident enough of what she was doing. "I never really thought about it, but yeah, I hate things." The female appeared very honest in her replies, which of course did not go by him. "I hate those stairs!"
"I know!" Francis was simply agreeing with her for the heck of it. Still, he had already hated a lot of things, there was simply nothing wrong with hating these stairs along with them. The best way to get to know someone is to share their disdain, he'd say.
"I hate that bridge!" The female pointed at it indigently.
"It's so stupid!" Carrying on with the plan just the same.
"I hate your vest!"
"What now?" He paused momentarily, digesting what had just been said. A lot of thoughts passed through his head, but one came out of his mouth as he groaned. "I don't think this is gonna work out."
As he turned his head and walked off indignantly, he could have heard the voices of others appearing, which inevitably drawn his attention back to the stare. Before long, there were four people standing there, staring at him. There was a young man, looking around, in a white T-shirt, his cap barely hanging on his head. Francis quickly deemed him as too goofy to care of. Next to him was another male, middle aged, fancying himself in a luxurious and rigid suit, although obviously worn out. There was something about that man which irritated the biker, but he could not quite put his finger on it. Ignoring was his action of choice, as he continued onto the last person. This one was quite big, African American as well, having what seemed like a school baseball team uniform on him. Out of the group of four, the biker decided that it was his best bet just to stick to his original game plan.
"So, you, who are these friends of yours?" He thrown the question out on the wind, and as expected, the female caught it well.
"Well, my name is Rochelle." She answered, not keeping anything back at all, which Francis nodded that he could get used to. "This is Coach." She pointed the big man "This here is Nick." Then to the man in the suit "And finally, Ellis."
"What wonderful names you all have." Nick was the one who narrowed his eyes, obviously not appreciating the jab at all. He had already disliked the biker from the first time they set eyes on each other, and nothing is going to change that now. There was just something about those two that agitate one another. However, it was not anything big enough to make a fuss over.
"Bite us." Francis seemed to be taken aback by such a retort from the well-suited man. Perhaps he should not have been so quick to judge this book. "What is your divine identity then?"
"The name's Francis." He seemed to take pride in what he said, which the others did not quite seem to be in an understanding. Ignoring their reactions, he continued. "I'm a hard-ass biker around these parts. You should listen to me."
"Thanks but no thanks, Francis." Rochelle crossed her arms in response, obviously not buying what Francis had spoken. It was natural after all, considering how she just insulted him by hating on his vest. It could not have been avoided though, since she actually hated it!
"Look man, we're just trying to get across the bridge." Coach seemed like he had enough of this nonsense, and wanted things to be done. He and his group had been travelling for quite sometime now and not much of what they had seen were pleasant. He knew they had no time for this. The less time they needed to deal with whatever's happening here, the better. "Can you lower it for us?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, big man." Francis grinned at that, thinking high and mighty of his helpful self. Of course, he was the only person who could have been like that, since the others were all standing there rolling their eyes, with the sole exception of Ellis, whose attention was occupied by things more fitting of his interests. "But the generator that is used to control this bridge has already broken down. Even if I wanted to there's nothing I could do."
"Damn it." Rochelle threw a curse at the air, which to him was, at the very least, earning his undivided attention. "Is there any way to fix that?"
"You could traverse the underground tunnel to the other side and restart the thing for yourself." Francis was surprised at himself being so helpful. Perhaps it was because of the apocalyptic situation that this side of him was revealed. Either that or he was just hungry, and it was getting to him. "I don't recommend it, but that's like the only thing I can help you with."
"Fine, we'll take what we can get." Coach nodded to show his approval. The group gazed on him questionable looks, but they really did not have much of a choice. Despite none of them trusting the biker in the slightest, it really was the only thing they could do. "Will you be coming with us?"
"Nah, I got my own people to attend to." Francis was definitely serious as he said that. Talking with these guys were fun and games, but he still had two other people to look after. There was no way he could leave them as they are now, one disabled and the other painfully apathetic.
"I see." Coach seemed understanding, which was no less than the biker expected. If there was anything he could give them as an advice right now, it would be "be careful not to die", but it was not like anyone needed to be told that. A nod followed. "Thanks for your help anyways."
"No big, man." They were seriously sick of his jokes by now, as it was shown by the scowl on everyone else's faces. Francis scoffed, disapproving. He left them to their own devices afterwards, returning to the people who would get his sense of humor. It was a rather tedious walk back, even more so how he remembered that he left his rifle somewhere on the other side when he had already made half the trip back. Grunting, he had no choice but to come back and get it, which was a chore that would soon to be taken out on Louis later, the biker noted.
...
"Hey man, you're back." Soon enough, he had reached his group, or what was left of it. Louis obviously did not move anywhere, his pistol still in hand. Zoey did not either, as she seemed to be in the exact position which Francis remembered her. It was getting to him, a lot. "What was it?"
"It was another group of four." That was enough to snap Zoey out of her trance, as she steered her head towards the speaking man. Francis wanted to snap at her, but decided against it. Usually he would have, but it would not help anyone. Instead, he simply continued with the story. His two teammates knew how to take his stories with a grain of salt though, especially when something along the lines of "King Francis" got out of his mouth. Still, they got the point.
"I do hope they get to the other side." Louis, as always, said that with clear hope in his mind. There was no reason to lose it again, since that would be simply disastrous, considering how he had already lost someone else important today. However, there was something else that he realized. "Hey Zoey, if they're going to get here to lower the bridge; we should move the sail boat to the other side first."
"Alright…" It was Zoey's first words after a rather annoyingly long period of time, at least in Francis' opinion. Of course, Louis was just happy to see her being responsive for once. It was like talking to a brick wall before, when he tried to stir up a conversation while Francis was gone, so this was definitely an improvement. At least they had something to set their mind to. "You stay here and cover us. Francis, come with me."
"Who died to make you queen?" Louis shook his head to Francis' undignified words. Even the biker himself realized his mistake soon after. However, that did not mean he could have avoided the killer glare coming from the eyes of the black-haired girl. Hate was within Zoey's eyes, with the passion of a cold-blooded killer. Francis gulped and stiffened his reflexes, not knowing what to do with that murderous glare. Only when Zoey turned and left did his body loosened and he could finally breathe. "Man that was stupid."
"Yeah, even for you." The biker spared a quick glare of his own at the injured man before following Zoey's pace down toward the staircase. It did not take them long to get down to ground level, where there were still countless bodies of Infected blocking their way around. It was a bit distasteful to walk on those, but they had no better plan. It took them a while to navigate their way around, but the method worked nonetheless.
"Hey Zoey, I'm sorry about that." Francis apologized. If anything, he would not be surprised if Zoey would turn around with her Assault Rifle and put a few bullets through his blabbering mouth. With that in mind, he was thankful when she turned around with a sad expression, but not angry by any means. The biker motioned his sight towards a warehouse near the generator, bringing the girl's attention there. "Do you… I mean… want to…?"
"Let's just get this done first." Zoey knew what he was talking about. After all, she saw it with her own eyes; there she would never be able to forget that horrible sight. Still, she had her priorities straight, since that was what people expected of her now. Sentimental things could wait; else a lot of sacrifices that day would have been pointless. "Come on Francis."
The two of them made their way to the boat thereafter. It was the very same as when they first saw it, but their moods had changed dramatically since then. No one commented on anything, as Zoey silently hoisted up the sails and put it through the bridge's underpass, moving it to the other side, so that should the bridge came down again they would have had a clear path to the open sea. The boat was then steered onto land, as Francis and Zoey stepped off and onto dry land once again. The whole process was thankfully painless, as neither of them had any sailing experience prior to this.
"So Zoey," The girl motioned silence as the biker never finished his sentence. She did not want to hear it, considering how she was fully aware of what he was going to say.
"Just get back on the bridge with Louis." Zoey's command got through loud and clear, even though Francis did not want to attend to it. However, her stern voice and stiffened expression indicated that she did not want to deal with anymore headaches for the rest of the day, so the biker knew that it would be better just to leave her alone.
"If you don't come back in fifteen minutes; I'm coming down here to find you, alright?" Francis assured Zoey of his support. The Infected has already made themselves sparse long ago, so he did not think too much of whether the girl needed back up or not. He was still saying that for himself to stay on track though.
"I'll remember that."
With that, the two departed. Francis climbing up the stairs while Zoey headed into the warehouse. Her eyes blurred with tears, the girl felt like the world had just fallen down on her. It was the same feeling she had been experiencing gurgling up her throat all this time, ever since she lost her companion. Walking slowly into the dark space inside the dimly lit house, she saw exactly what she expected. However, it did not make things any easier for her to swallow. In front of her was the figure of Bill - the war veteran, their group's leader, and something akin to her second father - dead, lying on a pool of his own blood. He went out flaring, that she was assured of. At least his body was not torn apart by the Tanks; that she was thankful for at the very least. Feeling weak in the knees, Zoey broke down, and the urge to vomit stirred up within her. She gagged up what's left in her stomach onto the cold floor, trying her best to stop. None of what she tried was working. Soon, she found herself crying endlessly. Her broken voices chimed through the wind and echoed across the darkness. It was simply mortifying for her to break down like this, but she did not care. She just wanted to cry her heart out. It was a full five minutes, until the cries eased off, and she realized that hers was not the sole one.