Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Walking Dead series (both comic book and television), and I do not claim to own any of these characters other than my own original character. This is a story I have written and I am in no way, shape, or form making any sort of profit from it. I am poor. I might even be more so now having written this.
Chapter One
She runs; her breathing smooth and legs strong and sure. She had stopped panicking now—she had pushed those fears she had in the beginning aside. Now was not the time to be thinking about them but about the others—about the people. Lassie gasps as a walker presses its mangled face against the fence she runs along. Months ago, she would have screamed—she would have hollered for help, but, now, she knew she was the only person she could count on. She was the only one who had a say as to what became of her.
Lassie can hear the men chasing from behind hollering and cursing. In another life, they were good people—hell, deep inside everyone, there was a good person. But due to this lifestyle—due to cold, raw survival—everyone was a foe. No one could be trusted. Lassie reaches the end of the fence and quickly dips under as Matt pulls open the cut wires.
As she straightens, she doesn't even look back to see if the boy is following. That was one of her rules; never look back when there was a risk behind. Looking back left one's front exposed, vulnerable even. Getting a view of what one was running from was even, at times, enough to stop a person in their tracks. She didn't want to risk it—she couldn't risk it.
She furrows her brow as she hears the men behind hollering. A gun shoots and the bullet sparks on a car's hood. Lassie dips at the sudden shot, but the warning is not enough to slow her down.
She runs for as long as she can—which had improved dramatically since it all started. Before, she could barely make it three blocks; now, she could run for miles it seemed. As she leaves the small town and heads down the road, her head snaps back; there was no longer a threat.
Matt runs in a hop-skip-jump formation. His right leg was a prosthetic and a terrible fit at that. When she first found out, she believed he would slow her down. However, seeing what he was capable of now, she felt at times she was the one slowing him down.
Lassie smirks as she slows her pace. "Gotta love the chase," she says; her voice is near a breathless whisper. Matt narrows his eyes at her and then gives a grin back.
"Did you see their faces?" Matt asks as they slow their run down to a trot. Lassie shakes her head and Matt does an impression; his face stretching and mouth widening as his hand rise shaking. "You scared the shit out of them," he says before a laugh.
"All with an empty clip," she says haughtily as she waves the Beretta 9mm. "A li'l girl with a gun—ha! I had 'em screamin' and whinin' like, "Don't shoot me! Take what you want but let us live!" God, I love that!" She tosses her head back as Matt laughs. Truth be told, Lassie wouldn't hurt a fly. There was not a bad bone in her body, but she had one thing going for her; she was a good pretender.
As the laughter dwindles and their trot becomes a walk, Matt shakes his head faintly. He didn't like stealing—Lassie knew he didn't—but it was either take or die. "What'd you get?" he asks after a moment.
Lassie's eyes shoot up to him and then she swings her pack off one shoulder. "A couple Tylenol, antibiotics, 'n' a few mystery cans," she says as her hands rifle through the backpack. "Oh," she says as her hand feels around and pulls out something that stops Matt dead in his tracks.
"Is that—,"
"Glorious, milky-smooth chocolate?" Lassie says with a smile and slit eyes. She looks down at the folded bar and examines it. "It looks like chocolate," she says with a slow nod. She brings it to her nose. "It smells like chocolate," she adds as Matt's mouth waters. Her fingers gingerly pull the wrapper from the sweet treat. She breaks off a corner and pops it in her mouth. Lassie's eyes roll back. "Oh, it's definitely chocolate, buddy boy," she says with the bit tucked into her cheek.
"Give me some—,"
"You don't want this—,"
"Lassie; do you know how long it's been since I've had anything like that?" he asks as he reaches for the bar.
Lassie pulls it away with a shriek. "I did the work to get it!"
"You can't eat it all!" Matt whines back and Lassie smiles.
"I can," she says with an arched eyebrow. "'N' I just might," she adds with a sinister smirk. Matt furrows his brow as he looks back at her.
He shakes his head and looks away as his hand runs down the back of his neck. "Man, I'll remember this—,"
"Calm down," she says as she breaks a piece off the bar and pushes it into his palm. "Ain't no use in joking with you these days. Your funny bone must've broke when you feel from the roof of that car," she says through the side of her mouth.
They had been looking for a place to stay for the night when Matt took his fall. He decided the extra height of an SUV would be enough to scope out a safe place. What he didn't put into consideration was the fact it had been raining all day and that his prosthetic couldn't feel the slick metal beneath him. As he landed on the ground, Lassie couldn't decide whether she should be concerned or laugh at his misjudgement. When he rose, she knew laughter was the only reaction he would get out of her.
"I still have that stupid bump," Matt says as he rubs the back of his head. "And it wasn't that funny when it happened," he defends. "I could have been seriously injured."
"Okay, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, Robocop," Lassie says with a smirk and Matt rolls his eyes. The girl had finally become comfortable enough with what he lacked that she could poke fun at it; Matt, however, wasn't sure if he liked it or not at times.
"Where to now?" he asks as they continue down the gravel road.
Lassie shrugs as her eyes look to the fading sun. Darkness would be on them like white on rice in a short half hour. "We could chance it," she says. They never traveled at night. Strange things always seemed to come out in the blackening hours.
Matt makes a face. Suddenly, he raises his brow as if struck with an idea. "Wasn't there a barn a little further down here?"
"Sleepin' in hay ain't exactly how I expected my day would end," Lassie says with distaste.
"What do you suggest then?" Matt asks with a furrowed brow.
"Set up a nice little area in the woods… maybe have a fire 'n' cook up one of them mystery cans," Lassie says with a shrug. To her, it was simple—almost like going camping with her brothers. Lassie's lips flatten; city boys didn't think that way. If they were away from a comfortable place to rest their heads for too long they started panicking. Her brothers would have given Matt a hard time. He was too soft for their liking; too city and not enough country.
Lassie takes a deep breath. She still needed to find her family… but what were the chances they were still alive? Matt had already given up hope on his uncle and mom and he had only been separated from them for two months. Lassie was going on nearly six without even an inkling of one of them being alive.
"What do we do about the walkers?" Matt asks.
Lassie almost cringes with the name. Giving those things names was one of the hardest things to do—she preferred the simple ones; lame-brains, biters, even roamers and lurkers. The name walker just made them sound so… unmanageable.
"Take turns with watch—like we did our first night," together. They had met after the walkers first appeared. Their meeting was by chance, yet it was fate that they stayed together. Neither of them could have survived without the other.
Matt lets out a long sigh. "Who takes first watch?" he mumbles knowing he would lose the argument.
Lassie pats his back and smirks. "I'll do it, you big baby." She shakes her head. "It's a wonder your still around with all the moanin' and groanin' you do." Lassie narrows her eyes. "One of these days I might mistake you as one of 'em walkers."
Matt rolls his eyes as the two veer off the road and across the field that stands in their way of the tree line. "If I remember correctly, Lassie, you complain just as much—if not—more than I do," he says.
Lassie raises her brow and shakes her head. "I don't ever remember complainin'—,"
"Your ears must be immune to it then."
Lassie looks to her friend as the boy smirks at her with his dark eyes narrowed. She smacks Matt in the gut making him keel over. "Next time it'll be a closed fist," she warns half-heartedly.
It was a difficult time to laugh and smile. It had been months since Lassie had cracked even a grin, but Matt made it easy for her as she did for him. They were dead near the same age and even had a few common interests. When they would talk to each other, it almost seemed like the highways and fields disappeared and they were in a normal place having a normal conversation two normal teens would have. That is, until one of them brought up a threat bringing them back to their reality. Lassie runs a hand through her inch long hair and looks to the grass.
"It'll be back in no time," Matt says as he keeps his eyes on the horizon. The girl had been playing with the little hair she had left since it was first buzzed—he didn't even need to see her touching it to know she was.
Lassie nods. "My hair grows pretty fast…" She makes a face. "Maybe it's best to have it short though," she adds after a second.
"What do you mean?" Matt asks as his eyes look to her through their corners.
"I mean—," Lassie's hand drop to her side, "—before…" she gestures her hands not willing to bring up the name of that hellhole, "—my hair would get caught. Mostly in burs 'n' twigs… but sometimes biters would pull at it or get pretty near to doing it." Lassie furrows her brow. As much as she liked long hair, fashion was no longer something that mattered. "Shorter is safer," she says with a nod.
Matt shakes his head as if tossing long locks in the wind as his short curls bounce with the motion. "I happen to like long hair," he says before raising his hand above his shoulder and fluffing his imaginary long locks. Lassie lets out a laugh and Matt smirks. "One day, I'll be in one of those shampoo commercials, then we'll see who's laughing," he says before a chuckle.
It was a pipe dream thinking the world would one day get back to normal. Their normal was gone; it died with lost TV broadcasts and recorded radio transmissions. There was no normal left; only breathing and moving. Lassie smirks at the thought of Matt having long dark curls puffed out like an eighties hair-metal band's front man.
It was okay to dream; they were allowed that even if their wake was a nightmare.
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Reviews are much welcomed and always appreciated!
~MsBBSue