Author's Note: So yeah, here's the new Daryl fiction I've been working on. I'm pretty excited for it since I know exactly where I want it to go. Plus, we all love those long chapters right? Anyway, here's the first installment. Please let know what you think! Happy reading! xo
When the world ended, the chaos was nearly unbearable. Screaming, sirens, explosions, riots, gunfire… The world was loud, rampant with the noises of death, our extinction event. Then, as humanity became the lowest link on the food chain, a despondent hush fell over the world, a sure sign that the world as we knew it was gone, dead. The sounds of the dead ruled the earth, their groans and snarls a horrible soundtrack as what was left of human life resorted to baser instincts. It became kill or be killed, dog eat dog. The cities were the first to go. The populations were too great, and when the inevitable happened, the living stood no chance against the mouths of the dead. Rumors spread at the beginning of safe havens within city limits for refugees, but, like the rest of the world, they fell fast. Nowhere was safe anymore.
I kept to the tree line, not too far from the road and not too sheltered beneath the trees. If there was an incoming threat, I needed to see it. My furry companion plodded along beside me, tongue lolling out of his mouth like a big pink, flat snake. It was curled at the edges, proving I wasn't the only one thirsty. The two of us were silent as we picked our way through the trees, looking for a place to hunker down for the night. Since this whole thing started, or ended, depending on how you look at it, I'd slept in my fair share of backseats, basements, and even trees. Desperate times. If we didn't find shelter soon, we'd be left to take cover in the woods. I hated the woods at night. The rustling, the calls of the nocturnal animals waking up for a new night of hunting and eating, the tricks the trees would play as the moon threw their shadows across the forest floor.
The sun was beginning its descent behind the crest of the highway. The cars were doused in the orange-pinky glow, a graveyard of metal and bodies. Near the crest of the small slope, there had been a pileup, and a mangled mess of twisted metal glinted in the setting sun. Despite my grievances of being in the open, we were desperate for water, desperate to stave off dehydration for as long as possible. I clicked my tongue as I stepped out of the forest, and my companion bounded out behind me. We made our way to the cars, crossing over the guardrail and entering the graveyard. Within the cars, I made out shapes of bodies, though whether they were dead or undead, I wasn't sure, but I wasn't about to risk anything. As we passed by one, a little red sedan with its airbag deployed, a body slammed up against the rear driver's side window, snarling against the glass. I skirted away from the vehicle, the dog at my side yipping in surprise but knowing to keep relatively quiet.
We skipped that vehicle, opting to dig through the trunk of the next one. An overnight bag offered a half-full bottle of water, which was immediately split between the two of us. My throat was still dry, but it was at least some reprieve. The rest of the car turned up near empty, save a small-caliber handgun in the glove compartment. It had three bullets left, but I shoved it in the back of my jeans anyways. Guns and ammunition were rare commodities these days, and every one counted for something. Just the one could be the difference between life and death, surviving or succumbing.
The next car proved to be just like the first, though there was a small bag of stale animal crackers in the backseat. I had to physically turn my head away from the baby seat in the back that was covered in blood. We moved up the highway, splitting the animal crackers evenly. I continued to search through the cars and ended up with a fairly good haul that included a fresh shirt and underwear (someone was looking out for me, I was wholly convinced), more water, some protein bars, which I regrettably could not share with my dog due to their containing chocolate, and a packet of beef jerky. I kept two pieces of that for myself and offered the rest to Ares as a compromise. The lab was more than happy to guzzle down every last crumb.
As we moved further up the highway, a dark spot on the pavement caught my eye. It had long dried, but no one could mistake the telltale appearance of blood. There was a puddle of it, next to a rusted car, and a trail drizzled up the highway away from me. Upon closer inspection, I found the possible cause—a nasty, rusted piece of broken metal on the door of the old car. The blood on the metal had dried as well, probably with a lot of help from the unrelenting Georgia sun. I glanced at Ares, who was distracted, looking off into the trees. Wary, I led us off the highway, back into the cover of the trees. I kept my eyes alert and my ears sharp, in case whoever had left that puddle of blood was still around. The trees were still, far too much in my opinion, and made it me all the warier of the woods. I hated the woods—far too many places for people or the dead to hide, though I guess I had the advantage of knowing when they were coming.
My path led me to a winding, shallow creek that tinkled in the silence of the forest. I kept to the cover of the trees for a moment, sweeping my eyes up and down the creek to ensure the coast was clear. It was unnerving, the silence. No birds, no squirrels in the trees, nothing. I hated it. With one last look I clicked my tongue and Ares and I headed down the slope to the bank of the creek. I knelt in the sand, the dampness seeping through the denim of my jeans, and reached into my pack for an empty water bottle. Ares lapped happily and noisily beside me, not a care in the world.
We moved on after the creek, keeping alert as we headed further into the forest. The sun was beginning its slow descent, and I loathed the idea of spending the night in the forest. I hummed lowly to myself, needing something to fill the silence that stretched out through the trees. I hated that I couldn't hear any signs of life; a feeling of apprehension had settled in the pit of my stomach, a sense of foreboding that I couldn't discern.
Our path eventually took us to a clearing, in the middle of which sat a ramshackle house. The shutters were hanging off their hinges, the screen door lopsided. The roof was bowed in the middle and the paint was nearly completely gone. Ares was looking at it with interest, his head raised and ears perked forwards, waiting for my command. I whistled sharply and he moved forwards to investigate. I followed behind him, watching as his black form took its time sniffing around the house. When he'd finished, and completed a full loop of the outside of the house, he sat on his haunches and waited for me to catch up. Our footsteps were silent on the porch as we moved up to the broken front door. I commanded Ares to wait and headed inside. A thick layer of dust coated every surface. The furniture was filthy, the couch as bowed as the roof over me. It was a downright mess inside.
Tables were turned over, personal decorative items spilled and broken on the floor, a mirror was smashed. I moved from room to room on the first floor, satisfied when there were no surprises waiting for me. In the kitchen, as I turned to call for Ares, a shuffle close by made me freeze. I turned towards the pantry, the door to which was open just a crack. I whistled again, and Ares's claws clicked on the wood floor. He was crouched again, his hackles raised. He wasn't growling, though, as he pointed his nose at the pantry door. My knife was silent as I drew it from its sheath, prepared to take down whatever was waiting for me in that closet.
"Come on out," I said firmly, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. While I was no stranger to the dead or the living, situations like this made me nervous still. I tightened my grip on my knife as the door slowly creaked open, and my breath caught.
I was expecting a walker, but that was most definitely not what I got.
A little girl, no older than twelve, was crouched beneath the shelves of the pantry, wide-eyed and filthy. Her stringy blonde hair hung in her face, and her blue shirt was spattered with caked mud. A quick glance at the floor of the pantry told me she'd been holing up here for at least a few days—a blanket and a pillow were squished in the small space.
I held out my empty hand as the girl started to shake and slid the knife back into its sheath. Ares was sniffing her, still keeping his distance.
"Take it easy," I said soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name, sweetie?"
"S-Sophia," she stammered, wringing her hands in front of her. "Do you know where my mom is?"
"I'm sorry, I don't. My name's Claire, and that's Ares." I smiled when Sophia's mouth turned up just a bit as she stroked Ares's dark head. "He likes you. How did you lose your mom, Sophia?"
"We were on the highway…A lot of those things came through and I got chased into the woods. I tried to listen to the policeman and find my way back but I…I got lost. I messed up." Her eyes brimmed with tears and I felt my heart lurch in my chest.
"Oh, sweetie, it wasn't your fault. But I just came from the highway, and I didn't see anyone." I felt horribly guilty when Sophia's face crumpled in agony.
"They left without me…" she cried meekly, allowing the first few tears to drip down her face. Ares whined and sat on his haunches in front of her, nudging her hand that hung limply at her side.
"Oh, Sophia, it's okay. I'm sure they just had to get out of the open. I'll help you find them, I promise. How long have you been staying here?"
Sophia sniffled and wiped her nose with her arm. "A few days…I found some cans in the cabinets. Do you want one?"
"Only if there's enough. Come on, let's get settled in the living room. No way can I fit in there with you." She giggled a little, pulled her makeshift bed out of the closet, and followed me into the living room where she dumped it on one of the musty couches. "We'll look for your family first thing in the morning, okay?"
Sophia ducked back into the kitchen and reemerged, two cans of vegetables in her hands. She looked at them and then looked at me.
"Do you want green beans or baked beans?" she asked, nibbling on her lower lip. I fought a smirk as I caught her fingers twitching over the green beans and pointed to the can of baked beans. She smiled and handed the can to me, sat down on the couch to dig into her supper. I popped the top on my cold baked beans and ate them from the can.
"So how old are you Sophia?"
"Twelve. How old are you?" she asked around a mouthful of green beans. Juice dribbled down her chin as she tilted the can towards her mouth.
"A lot older than twelve… I'm thirty-three."
"Wow, you're almost as old as my mom!"
I pointed at her, closing one eye. "Watch it, kid." She giggled, and I grinned before slurping down another gulp of my meal. I set the half-full can on the floor and whistled sharply. Ares came trotting over, sniffed at the can, and dug in.
I settled on the wide windowsill, prepared to take watch for the evening. The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows across the field surrounding the house. On the opposite couch, Sophia began to hunker down, burrowing herself beneath the threadbare blanket. As her breathing evened out, I let out a long sigh.
Early this morning it was just Ares and me, searching for some kind of refuge from the current state of the world. It had been weeks since we'd seen people last, and then all of a sudden, a child all but landed in our laps. I'd seen the cities when they began to fall, was with families who were torn apart—from each other and quite literally—watched children cry for their parents as they became fodder for the dead. It was common knowledge—at the very least to me—that children did not last long at the end of the world. They were too flighty, too unpredictable, and unable to keep focused if danger were around. The survivalist part of me was screaming to rescind my offer of helping the girl look for her parents, take off in the middle of the night and move on.
But another glance at her sleeping form, at the clear exhaustion and worry on her face, stopped those thoughts in their tracks. How could I just leave her alone to fend for herself? She already thought her mother had left without her, yet still carried the hope of finding her. How could I just walk away from her? Despite my age, I had never had any kids of my own, so I couldn't imagine how Sophia's mother must be feeling—if she was even still alive.
Sophia believed she was, and until we knew otherwise, I made a mental promise to help her as best as I could.
The night passed uneventfully. I'd heard a couple lone roamers wandering by the house, but they suspected nothing of the house as they passed and moved on. Sophia was awake earlier than I expected her to be, only an hour or so after the sun had risen. She looked far better rested than the day before, though there were still dark circles under her eyes that stood out starkly against her pale skin. We had a small breakfast of a breakfast bar each, and then we began packing our things to move out in search of Sophia's group.
Ares sat by the door, his tail thumping against the wood floor, waiting for us. I tossed my knapsack onto my back after making sure it was closed before looking towards Sophia.
The girl was holding her doll, her gaze bouncing between the front door and the small closet she'd been holed up in. I could see the hesitation in her eyes, the uncertainty that came with leaving a notable structure that might reunite her with her family. I chewed the inside of my lip for a moment, letting her have a moment.
"We can't stay, Sophia," I told her gently. She looked at me slowly, a reluctant understanding in her eyes. She nodded silently and walked forward towards the door. I rested a hand on her shoulder in comfort, squeezing lightly. "Ready?"
At her nod, I held up a hand for her to wait as I slowly opened the door and peered out. The field that lay beyond was devoid of any life. The air was stagnant and already warm; we had another hot Georgia summer day to look forward to. I gestured for Sophia to follow me as Ares trotted down the front steps and into the grass. His ears were perked and listening as we silently followed him back into the trees.
Our trek through the woods was relatively uneventful; we had managed to avoid a small cluster of the dead by hiding amongst some thick bushes. Sophia surprised me yet again with her ability to keep calm and quiet, though her eyes did tear up a bit when the moaning dead staggered by, unaware of our presence. She waited, crouched in the brush, until I gave her the signal that the coast was clear. I supposed she'd quickly learned her lesson from the first time. She stepped out from behind the brush, Ares on her heels, and we continued.
Our route took us back up near the highway, where Sophia had been separated from her group. This part of the freeway was badly congested with cars upturned and smashed. Garbage littered the ground, and the stench of decay was light on the air. We crept quietly up the highway, rummaging through cars on our way. We managed to scrounge up a few more granola bars, a half-full bottle of water, and a flashlight with working batteries.
We spent much of the day the same—scavenging supplies and looking for traces of Sophia's group. Unfortunately, her child's memory wasn't exactly reliable, and so she couldn't remember if she'd hidden under this truck or that truck. Combined with the heat and the utter exhaustion, her confusion and lack of recollection was beginning to wear my patience thin. But I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to discourage her from trying to remember. I could see the frustration on her face, as she ran a hand through her choppy blonde hair. Tears of exasperation had sprung to her eyes, making them glitter in the sunlight.
"Hey," I called softly, taking a small step towards her. I laid a hand on her shoulder to keep her from panicking. "It's okay. We're going to find them. It's okay if you can't remember. Everyone leaves a trail. We just have to find it. But you've got to stay calm for me, okay?"
With a sniff, she nodded and wiped her nose with her arm before pulling herself together. I had to hand it to that kid; she was stronger than she looked. We moved on up the highway, continuing our search for any sign that anyone had been there. Up ahead, the sun reflected off the cab of a box truck, its side hatch rolled all the way up. A disbelieving laugh left my lips on an exhale as I realized it was a water truck.
"Sophia!" I called over my shoulder. She pulled her head out of the backseat of a truck and jogged over to me. I bent to her level and pointed at the van, watched her face light up.
"I remember that truck!" she said excitedly, taking me by surprise. "Glenn and the police officer opened it! We're here! This is where we were stopped!"
I didn't say it aloud, but I was thanking whatever higher power was up there that we'd finally found a sign. My back and arms were sore, and my shirt was clinging to my body thanks to the buckets of sweat pouring off me. We approached the van and I popped the top on one of the gallon jugs, letting it fall in a beautiful cascade to splatter on the pavement. Ares stuck his head under the spray, lapping up a belly full of water and spraying our legs as he drank.
"Drink up, kid," I told Sophia, tugging her to stand under the spray. She opened her mouth wide and drank her fill, ducked her head under the water to cool her reddening skin. Sunblock was a fossil now, a rare find in the desolation of the world. Once Sophia had finished, I did the same, relishing in the cool water as it flowed across my skin.
I pulled away from the jug, breathless and thirst thoroughly quenched. Then I dug out the water bottles from my backpack, dumping out the old and refilling all of them with fresh water. We moved on, searching for any other signs of Sophia's group. As we weaved between abandoned cars, a dark spot on the pavement made me hesitate and turn. I swallowed, recognizing the spot clearly as a blood stain. It was completely dry, at least a few days old, with a few gravitational blood spots leading back down the highway the way we came. Uneasy settled in my gut, my senses on high alert.
"Uh, Claire?" I whipped my head around, searching for Sophia amongst the wreckage. I found her blonde head staring into the smashed rear window of a sedan. I stepped up beside her, knife drawn in defense. But my grip loosened slightly as I followed her eyes. In the backseat of the sedan sat an empty car seat, infant-sized, caked in dark, dried blood, tissue, and other remains of a human.
I swallowed thickly and took a step back away from the car. Despite the heat, a coldness ran over me, spread from the back of my neck down my spine, leaving a tremor in its wake. I'd seen my fair share of death since the world went to hell, but knowing a mere child, a baby, barely out of the womb, had fallen victim to the dead did something horridly unpleasant to my insides. I glanced at Sophia; her expression matched my inner turmoil, and so I pinched the back of her shirt and tugged her away from the car.
"Come on, Sophia," I urged quietly. "We need to move on." She sighed through her nose and turned towards me, nodding as she looked up at me.
"I hope it was quick," Sophia said after a few beats of silence, and my stomach plummeted, though I kept my face neutral and murmured an agreement. Hiking my pack higher, I kept an arm loosely around her shoulder and pulled her along beside me.
We walked a little further, continuing our trek with no further sign of Sophia's group. We bypassed a pale-yellow Mustang, and I promptly halted in my tracks. Lying on the hood was a cacophony of supplies—water, juice, crackers, and canned goods—and written on the windshield in some kind of paint:
SOPHIA, STAY HERE. WE WILL COME BACK
EVERY DAY.
Finally, something concrete, I thought to myself as Sophia and I shared excited grins. We both looked around, hoping that they hadn't been here already.
Then the sound of a humming motor drew our attention. It was loud and approaching fast and I craned my neck to look over the tops of the vehicles crammed on the other side of the highway. A large black truck was just cresting the hill at breakneck speed, weaving expertly around the wreckage. I looked to Sophia, hope all over my face but it fell once I took in her worried look.
"I don't know that truck…" she muttered. Cursing under my breath, I grabbed her and forced her to kneel with me and together we crept around the front of the Mustang, keeping low as we ducked back into the trees. Better to watch from a distance. Ares dashed into the woods in front of us, tongue lolling out as he waited.
We hid amongst bushes and I peeled back a branch to watch the truck as it squealed to a stop directly across the highway from the Mustang. The doors flew open and five men stepped out, dressed in what looked like SWAT fatigues. They wore grey cargo pants and black shirts, and they were armed—heavily armed. Their truck was fixed with a machine gun in the bed, and each man had two handguns at his side and a rifle in his hand. Whoever these men were, I was positive we did not want to get caught.
They crossed the grass median, keeping distance between each other as they scouted the highway. When they came to the Mustang, on reflex I crouched lower, making sure to keep silent in the leaves. One of the men picked up a can on the hood and turned to read the message on the windshield. He looked around, dropping the can and adjusting his rifle.
"Fan out!" he barked to the men behind him. "Check everything!"
Beside me, Sophia whimpered quietly, and I grabbed her hand in what I hoped was comfort. She squeezed back, turned to look up at me with shining eyes. I hoped my expression was calming her, for inside I felt as anxious as she looked. The men were making a racket up on the highway as they searched the empty cars, slamming doors and trunks and kicking debris all over the place. As their voices faded, I knew we had to move to minimize the chance of being caught. So, looking at Sophia, I held a finger to my lips and slowly backed up, mindful of the twig behind my foot. Sophia followed, doing exactly as I did, stepping heel to toe to avoid making any kind of sound.
Rising, we turned and quickly but still quietly headed further into the trees, avoiding puddles, sticks, branches, anything that would alert the men to our presence. We kept that pace until the highway was no longer within our sights, and then we broke into a run to put even more distance between us. Ares was nearly silent as he bounded through the woods, making sure not to run too far ahead of us.
We came to a clearing some time later when I decided we'd gone far enough. It was way off course of the highway, veering off to the east. We stopped in the clearing to catch our breaths, hands on our knees as we bent over.
"Who were those men?" Sophia asked once she'd caught her breath. I straightened and laced my fingers on my head as I panted.
"I don't know, but they didn't look friendly. Better we keep away from the highway for a little."
"But what about my mom and the others? What if they come back to the highway and we're not there? What if they come back and they find those men?"
All very good questions that I didn't have the answers to.