A/N: ch 7 is up!
Wendy, thank you! xD, DustyClouds, thx 4 the suggestion ^^. Hmmm…I'm still taking last name choices but Platter isn't so bad…hmmm xD, AlexSmith2014, thx ^^ & add a character? xD hmmm idk we'll see how this moves along first xD, Amaya Albarn, ehehe I will try 2 churn up the next possible chapters as fast as possible xD
I'm still looking for last name suggestions for Eden. Her middle name is Lorelei fyi xD. Suggestions will be open….hmmm…..until the end of next week.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD
Enjoy~
Eden: Season One
Ch. 6: The CDC
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"Lorel, what's a CDC?"
"The CDC? Honey, it's a place where doctors go to find cures for diseases."
"Diseases?"
"Yup, that's right, kiddo."
If I were still five years old, I would've believed my aunt. But I don't believe that anymore.
The stench hits us all really hard, and I hear the moans and groans of our people as we tiptoe across the dead bodies. I'm running alone, just in front of Daryl. I bury the small pangs of jealousy when I see Carl and Sophia with their mothers'.
Must be nice to be them.
I cover up my nose with my hand, which helps just a tiny bit until I use my shirt to cover it. I feel a walker brush my ankle and I snap my head down to its decaying face. I resist the urge to gag at the smell as I feel Daryl nudge me ahead. I almost trip over another one, but I caught myself.
"Keep moving, come on."
"Shh."
Everyone's voices are muffled now, and all I can make out is the coughing and the groans of Glenn and Jaqui. I tiptoe over a walker, holding my breath, refusing to look down again.
"We're almost there." I think I hear Rick say that. But I don't really trust him. What if the CDC isn't safe? What if it got overrun like my house? What if the place is filled with walkers? Walkers, oh god no, not after our numbers went down, it's almost dark. Where are we gonna stay?
I'm scared.
The coughing doesn't stop, and I don't release my shirt or open my eyes fully until I see big, garage-like doors in front. Maybe this is a safe place. Maybe we can stay here for the night, and then we can rest. We can do that, right?
I see Rick and Shane trying to open the doors, but they don't even budge. Shane bangs on the door.
Come on, please.
"There's nobody here." T-Dog says it, and my breath catches in my throat. I suppress the urge to ask if we're going to die here.
"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick is looking desperate. We're all desperate. Please, I don't care anymore, just please, open up.
And then I hear Daryl's voice, and then I hear the low growl. The siren from the fish fry is blaring in my head again.
"Walkers!" Everyone is panicking now, and I hold my breath until Daryl shoots an arrow at it and puts it down. Thank god. But what catches my attention is that he's walking up to Rick.
And he looks pissed.
"You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl's beyond pissed, and I can't find another word to describe it. My mind then goes blank. So then we're not safe? The doors won't open? It's almost night. Are we just gonna die like this? But that might not be so bad because—
And then I see it. When the others are running back to the cars.
"The camera." I whisper, and everyone seems to stop at my sudden stillness. Rick seems to know what I'm talking about, and I sure hope that that wasn't some kind of illusion or mind trick. But Rick sees it too, and he finishes my sentence.
"It moved."
Everyone is staring at us like we're a bunch of wild baboons from the zoo, and I nod to Rick. He nods back.
"Both of you imagined it." What? Dale? Why?
"Eden, please—" It's Lori's voice, and I ignore it.
"No—I saw it too." I tilt my head towards her, and Carl and I lock eyes for a second before I break the contact.
"It moved. It moved." Rick is whispering it now, and Shane is trying to convince him. He's trying to convince him really hard, and I'm asking in my head why he's doing that. Because this could be our only chance, as slim as it is, we're left with no options.
No fuel, no food, no daytime.
Please, please, please, somebody. God, if you exist. Please open this door.
I snap out of my thoughts, and I see Rick brushing Shane off as he walks up to the door.
Rick, what are you—
"I know you're in there." His voice is lower, and more convincing. "I know you can hear me."
I hope you're is right.
"Please, help us! We're desperate!"
Lori, Shane are practically yelling by now, and I'm just standing there, watching as Rick pleads to the door.
"We have women and children. No food, hardly any gas left, nowhere else to go—"
Now Lori is trying to convince Rick, and then the alarms are blaring again. The alarms in my head are blaring as I turn around.
Walkers.
I crouch down and feel for my knife. This time, it doesn't help me one bit.
This is it, we're not gonna make it.
"You're killing us!"
Rick, stop, please.
"You're killing us!"
Shane is dragging him away now, and I can only keep crouching until I hear a creaking noise, and then everything goes white.
I'm sorry for saying that we weren't gonna make it.
There's this moment of silence before we all go in, voices in hushed whispers.
I breathe deep breaths, taking in the sanitary air as my eyes scan the area.
Rick is the first to speak, "Hello?" No response.
"Hello?" He says it louder this time. I hear more cluttered whispers, and after the third time of saying "hello," a man appeared.
A real, living, breathing, man.
Thank god.
My eyes trail to the gun he has, and my eyes harden as I stare at him.
"Anyone infected?"
Rick is staring back at him. "One of our group was. . . .he didn't make it."
"You're okay. . ."
"I'm okay. . ."
I'm sorry, Jim.
The man moves forward, out of the shadows, and he's tall with blonde hair. His voice is rushed. "Why are you here, what do you want?"
Rick's breathe is shallow when he responds. "A chance."
The man says something about "askin' an awful lot these days," and I just stare at him through my tired eyes.
Rick shakes his head, "I know. . ."
The man with the gun looks at all of us, and when he glances at me, I don't look away.
Are you proud of me, Lorel?
His voice is rushed again. "You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."
"We can do that."
The man finally lowers his gun, and then tells us to bring in our stuff.
He points towards that garage door. "Once this door closes, it stays closed."
I probably wouldn't mind that.
By the time my brain registers what's happening, Daryl is handing me my yellow backpack with the picture of my aunt in it. I nod at him and he returns it.
The man is now by the wall, and he's standing next to this large keypad thing. He talks to it, and then I remember my aunt telling me stuff about computerized voices. . . .or was it my mom who told me. . . .
"Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here."
The outside doors close with a bang that doesn't make me flinch. Good. No more walkers. I'm tired.
"Rick Grimes." Rick introduces himself.
I almost fall asleep while standing up. My mom told me—in between the slaps—that it wasn't proper to sleep walk. I said I didn't give a damn. That was only once, and the mark on my shoulder is the reason why I never fought back ever again, even though the marks kept increasing.
"Dr. Edwin Jenner."
Thank you, Jenner.
We're now following Jenner down a long hallway, to an elevator. We're all packing into it, and somehow, I managed to get landed right in between Carl and Sophia.
Just my luck.
It's silent, and I ignore the blunt stares that Carl's giving me.
Daryl breaks the silence. "Doctors always goin' 'round packin' heat like that?"
I look at the rifle in his arms, and he turns to respond to Daryl. "Well there were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." He then looks us all over again, and I return his stare. "But you look harmless enough." I see a small smile daring to come up to his lips.
"Except you two." He's referring to me and Carl.
Carl smiles at the attention. I keep staring at the man with my poker-face, unimpressed. I passed the compliment stage.
But I don't think Jenner's that bad.
A/N: Ok, that's the end of ch 7 xD
If you have an idea for a last name, please review or pm me. ^^
Til next time~
