Where The Lost Have Gone
Hey guys, back again with another chapter. I hope you guys are as giddy as I am for the continued season 4 of the Walking Dead.
I'm glad that you guys/gals seem to like the OC survivors that I've made. And I'm also grateful for the positive reviews you've given me, Please continue to do so. This chapter is longer than its predecessors so enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Walking Dead and Halo Franchise. All rights belong to their respective owners.
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Chapter 3: Survivors
~Several Hours Prior To Explosion~
Moira repressed the urge to groan after opening up the garage of yet another house. It was a neighboring home none too far from the one that she and her daughter had rested for the night. Moira had held some hope that there may have been some undamaged vehicle or such left behind in the dead neighborhood, but she had no such luck. What little cars were left had had their gas siphoned or sported some major technical issue. The one before her was no different.
Someone else seemed to have taken her idea for the small Nissan parked in the garage before her had its tires removed. Ignoring the film of dust that had covered its entire surface, Moira unhooked the front of the car.
"No good." Moira thought grimly. Not only had the tires been removed, but the poor Nissan's battery had been taken as well. In the corner of her eye, Moira spotted something that uplifted her mood if ever so slightly. Propped against the wall in the corner lay a lone metal baseball bat, ripe for the taking. Moira eagerly took the bat by its handle before wiping off some of the dust that had clung to it. Gripping the bat firmly, Moira took a few swings, gauging its weight and feel.
Nodding to herself, Moira left the garage behind, but not before pilfering anything left of value. "At least something good came out of this. Low on ammunition as it is." Having a metal bat as a melee weapon was something she sorely needed. The only protection she had was her old Winchester. She didn't dismiss the usefulness of the firearm for one second though. The gun had saved her sorry hide multiple times in the past, but ammunition was scarce at the moment and every bullet counted.
Stepping back into the driveway, Moira was greeted by the sight of her daughter waiting anxiously as she took glances up and down the street. The sudden sound of her mother's voice nearly made the poor girl jump. Moira was quick to try and ease her daughter. "It's okay punkin, it's only me." Ashly visibly relaxed before muttering a quiet apology.
Moira frowned. Her daughter had always been a soft spoken girl even before the apocalypse, but had become increasingly more quite as the days dragged on. Moira couldn't blame her. No one could've been prepared for something of this magnitude. The stress and anxiety was wearing down on her as well, but she had to shoulder that burden and stand tall for her Ash.
Now with her initial plan being a bust, Moira needed a better plan B. They needed some way of transportation out of the small town. Their destination; Atlanta, was merely over two hours away by car. To Moira, those two hours felt so far away; more so now that they were stopped by this road block. It pained the woman to be so close to her goal yet so far.
In the initial beginning of the plague, countless reports and transmissions had stated that a refuge center was being built in Atlanta, where any could seek aid from. But that was weeks ago. Any forms of electricity or further communications had been cut long ago, meaning that she had no earthly idea as to the current state that Atlanta was in. For all Moira knew, Atlanta could've possibly been overrun by those damnable biters, but some part of her still clung onto the hope that Atlanta would provide the safe haven that it so promised. Hope was practically what she was running on in this day and age.
Moira line of sight eventually drifted off in the far distance toward the major center of town as she contemplated her next plan of action. She pondered whether or not there would be a working vehicle somewhere up the ways deeper into the town, but shook her head thinking better of it. The town's center was bound to be crawling with mobs of the Geeks. It would certainly explain why there were only sparse few individual biters that roamed around the urban parts of town.
The tugging of her pants pulled Moira's attention to her daughter, who fearfully pointed her small finger at something. Following the direction of where Ash was pointing to, Moira saw several unsightly figures shambling slowly towards their general location. Moira gritted her teeth before kneeling down to reach her daughter's height, putting both her hands on Ash's shoulders to grab the girl's full attention. "Listen to me sweety. We can't stay here. More of those things will continue to come her the longer we stay, so we have to keep moving."
Ash stared attentively with her large, doe-like eyes, clinging on to every word. "B-but where are we gonna go?" she asked her mother meekly.
Moira made sure her backpack was strapped on firmly before taking her daughter's hand, while the other gripped firmly onto the metal bat. "We're getting out this city. Stay close to me at all times." Ashly nodded mutely as her mother whisked her away down the neighborhood streets and away from the oncoming Geeks. The risks may be high and their chances at finding a functional vehicle a longshot at best, but it was the only foreseeable option available to them and Moira was desperate enough to take anything she could at the moment. She could only hope that her decision wouldn't come to biter her in the ass.
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Careful to position his cigarette from obscuring his line of vision through a pair of binoculars, Bill's old but sharp eyes sat transfixed upon a single building, surrounded by a literal sea of dead. Dressed in his old military fatigues, Bill was an aging man with greying hair and piercing coal-black eyes. Several feet behind Bill, stood a fidgeting, lanky teenage boy with curly red hair and freckles whom kept pacing back and forth.
Sparing a short glance towards the red-head's direction, Bill couldn't help but snort. The boy had yet to come to terms with the reality of the dead suddenly walking. His rather stubborn attitude added together with his rash and often abrasive personality was bound to get the kid killed. Had Bill not intervened several times in the past, the red-head would've become a Walker's meal long ago. It didn't help that the child had kept on second-guessing his decisions, often leading to the two clashing. Bill had often wondered why he had bothered to pick the kid up at the last town. Perhaps it was because he had initially felt some sympathy or pity for the boy after learning that he had no relatives left alive to take care of him.
Shrugging off the negative thoughts, Bill waved the lanky teenager over, tossing him the pair of binoculars which he fumbled with for a few moments trying to grab ahold of it. Bill pointed to the building he was looking at earlier. "See that brat. There's our ticket out of this town."
The red-head scowled at the aging man. "The names Curtis, not brat you withered old badger." Bill wisely chose not to respond to Curtis's remark, instead waiting for the boy to look where he gestured to. Curtis grumbled but did as Bill instructed, taking a peak through the lens of the binoculars. He visibly paled upon the sight of the horde of Biters that had crowded around the streets of the Town's Square. Amid the mass of undead was an auto-shop, its garage door left wide open for all to see what laid inside.
Inside was a dismantled car suspended in air, waiting for some repairman that would never come. An array of tools lay strewn across the floor, including some spare car parts. But the true prize that grabbed young Curtis's attention were the stacks of gas canisters lined neatly along the shelf. Bill's voice broke in again. "That there's plenty of gas to last us to Atlanta and then some."
Curtis tore his gaze away from the auto-shop, sending the old veteran a scathing look. "Are you insane old man?! There must be at hundreds of the fuckers out there." Bill merely snorted at the child. But the kid did have a point. Bill cradled his M16 Assault Rifle, a keepsake back from his service in the Vietnam War. The semi-automatic rifle could do tremendous damage against the Walkers, but even it didn't have the kind of fire-power to take on the numbers he was facing here. He'd sooner run out of ammo before he could quickly get in and get out with the bottled gas. To get to the gas containers, they'd need to thin the numbers of the shambling creatures. A distraction of sorts to pull their attention away just long enough.
Bill took another drag from his cigarette before exhaling deeply. To his innate amusement, this action seemed to miff the brash teenager. Bill addressed Curtis with a calm demeanor. "You still have that can of Coca Cola?"
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Staying close to the walls of buildings, Moira led herself and Ash deeper towards the Town's Square, all the while keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of Walker movement. Raising her hand to halt her daughter, Moira surreptitiously peeked around the corner, peering into the next street that led straight to the Town's Square. Some Biters loitered around lazily, with no discernible direction guiding them. Moira had referred to these type of Biters as Lurkers. While in this state, the Biters appeared rather harmless and inactive, once they spotted their prey, they went into their usual frenzied mode. Moira had seen several unsuspecting victims fall prey to their deceptively harmless state.
Moira turned back to Ash, making sure that she had her daughter's attention. "Stay here," she pointed to the spot they were currently standing in. "I'm gonna clear us a path down the road. I'll call for you when it's time to come out okay?" Ash shuffled nervously in her spot, before nodding vigorously.
Giving her daughter one last reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, Moira steeled herself. She would go with the bat to conserve her remaining ammunition. Moira waited with bated breath for one of the Biters to come in closer to her position before she struck. Gripping the metal bat's handle bar like it was her lifeline, Moira swung with all her strength, smashing the bat's tip end into the deformed face of the Biter. There was audible squishy, pulp noise as the Biter fell limply to the cemented floor. Moira didn't get the chance to confirm if she had successfully killed the Biter before the other nearby roamers were drawn to the disturbance she caused. Adrenaline spiked throughout Moira's body as she sprang into action. It was like a switch. Moira's body underwent a state of autopilot as she dispatched the Biters.
Once the last one of the lot fell in an unceremonious heap onto the pavement, Moira took the time to collect herself and catch her breathe. Her breathing had hastened rapidly, leaving her gulping hungrily for more air. The adrenaline rush she felt earlier was beginning to fade, allowing her to think more clearly. She took a quick survey of the area. The tip of her bat drooled with the black viscous liquid of blood. Surrounding her were the bodies of several Walkers, all with either torn off jaws or crushed craniums.
With one last heavy breath, Moira called for Ashly. The meek child sheepishly moved out of the corner, eyes trying their hardest not to stare at the massacre that lay before her. Moira quickly clasped her daughter's hand, quietly ushering the girl to move. They didn't get too far before a loud explosion sounded off, causing a rocky tremor to course throughout the street. Moira steadied herself as she helped Ash off her knees. Moira immediately grew alarmed. A billow of smoke could be seen just around the next corner.
Moira crouched onto one knee, her back to her daughter and arms hung back. "Get on my back sweety, we gotta move fast." Wordlessly complying, Ashly climbed onto her mother's backside. Huffing slightly, Moira picked herself up and moved toward the forming cloud of smog, mindful of the small trembling of her daughter's body.
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Bill took one last drag from his guilty pleasure, exhaling the grey wispy smoke into the air before removing the cigarette butte from his mouth and staunching the lit end into the dirt beneath the sole of his shoe. His wizened coal black eyes turned to his impatient red-headed companion. Tilting his head, Bill motioned for Curtis to move into position. Shaking his head and whispering curses under his breath, Curtis moved out of sight.
Bill huffed before crouching toward the prone vehicle; an aging BMW. In his hand was a can of coke, emptied of his usual fizzy liquid. Stuffed inside the cap was a white piece of cloth drenched in lighter fuel. Rustling through his many pockets, Bill found his only lighter. For a brief moment, Bill stared into his reflection off the glistening silver metal of his lighter. His unkempt beard made him look more grizzled.
He allowed himself a smirk as he lit the soaked cloth, easily igniting it on fire. Quickly, the old veteran stuffed the burning can up the cylinder tailpipe of the BMW, before making a beeline for the opposite direction. Bill continued running, never looking back, even as the familiar booming sound of something exploding sounding off behind him; a wave of heat washing up his back. He made haste towards the auto-shop, where Curtis was hopefully gathering the supplies they needed. Bill didn't trust the whiny teen to create the distraction. The kid looked more likely to set himself on fire than to get the job done. Which was why the Vietnam veteran prayed that the red headed teen was at least capable to doing his role in the plan.
Just as he had anticipated, the horde of undead were swarming towards the burning vehicle, drawn to the intense flames like moths to a light. Circling around the buildings, Bill made his way around the now uncongested portion of the Town Square, straight to the site of the auto-shop.
Inside the garage, Bill was meet by the familiar sight of Curtis, gathering stacks of plastic gasoline containers and piling them onto a grocery cart that they'd found left behind on its side. Curtis paused momentarily as he noticed the presence of Bill, before continuing what he was doing. Bill assisted the boy, speeding the process up. As Bill hefted one of the last plastic containers onto the cart, Curtis's eyes caught sight of a large wrench hung against the upper wall. The red head stood on the tip of his toes, stretching his hand to reach the wrench that was just out of his reach. Bill's gruff voice reached the young man's ears as he struggled to reach his prize. "Almost got everything. Get ready to go." Bill heaved as he used his strength to wheel the cart around toward the exit.
Curtis bent his knees as he prepped himself to jump for the wrench. Unfortunately, at the precise moment, the foreboding sound of moaning reached his ears, closer than he felt comfortable. Before he could ponder further on what the sound was, the unmistakable sight of a Biter rounded the corner. Its murky frog-like eyes immediately found Curtis, whom had in his own fear, stood frozen to the spot. As though almost smelling the red-head's fear, the Biter lunged forward with animalistic hunger. On instinct, Curtis began to frantically backpedal. In his rush, Curtis tripped on his own feet, hitting the shelf on the way down and sending half the shelf's tools down with him.
Bill whirled around, eyes quickly glued to the frightened form of Curtis nursing and the Biter that loomed perilously close to the boy. Wrenches, crowbars, and other such tools clanked loudly as they bounded back and forth on the floor until they finally ceased movement. Bill's mind swerved into activity as dropped the canister of gas in his hands and reached for his M16, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and taking aim at the Biter lunging for Curtis. But he was too late. Bill watched with grim horror as the Biter sunk its yellowing teeth into the flesh of Curtis's arm, which he had put in front of him in a futile gesture of protecting himself. The boy screamed bloody murder as the Walker yanked off a good portion of meat and tendon from the arm.
Grinding his teeth, Bill squeezed hard on the trigger, sending a projectile straight through the feasting Walker's head. The Biter's corpse fell limply on top of Curtis who squirmed sporadically as he tried to move out from under the dead weight of the corpse. Bill immediately went to the Curtis's side, flipping the dead body off the boy's torso. Bill nearly cringed at the sight of the wound on Curtis's forearm. Blood gushed out from the wound like a river and the veteran could clearly see the bone. Bill quickly applied pressure to the wound, trying to stave off the exit of blood, but with little success. The crimson fluid seeped through the gaps in-between Bill's fingers. By now Curtis was shaking uncontrollably, his face paling as the blood left his body. He was going into shock. The boy stuttered, trying to form coherent words. Bill craned his head to hear what was most likely to be the boy's last words.
"I-I'm S-sca- scared." Bill face took on a somber look as gazed at the dying boy. The kid may have been incredibly arrogant and foolish, but he certainly didn't deserve to die like this.
"It's okay." Bill whispered continuously, as though ushering a toddler to sleep. Bill stayed by the boy's side until the light faded from the young man's eyes. Taking a moment to give a silent prayer, Bill wordlessly closed Curtis's eyes, before picking up his rifle and moving on. As much as he would like to take the body with him to give the boy a proper burial, he simply couldn't take both Curtis's dead corpse and the cart full of fuel. Besides, Bill could already hear the steady shuffling and moaning of Walkers nearing his location; no doubt attracted by the sounds of screaming and gunfire.
Bill hands gripped tightly around the handle bar of the cart, so much that his knuckles whitened. The veteran dared never to turn back as he wheeled the cart away, even as he heard the distant squelching and chewing sounds that echoed behind him.
End.
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With any hope, Bill will receive as good a reception as Moira. I'll also give an imaginary cookie to anyone who can figure out who his character is based off of. Shouldn't be too difficult though considering that I've kept his original design and name. That's your only hint.
Anyways, feel free to leave a review (a positive one pretty please), as well as any constructive criticism you have. I always enjoy reading your thoughts on my story.
One thing before I go. Anyone have any good Valentine Day stories to share. Hope yours was good.
Till next chapter.