Took a while to get this written up, I'm having problems dealing with depression right now. And apparently depression affects more than just my mood, it also affects my creativity. Had to re-watch Episode 5 at least 4-5 times to get this whole thing written up to my liking.


Chapter 7

Morning seemed to come way too early for the survivors, but they were all too shaken up from last night's attack to even get much sleep. For Andrea, she wished morning wouldn't have to come around at all.

She refused to leave Amy's side when everybody set out to dispose of their dead. She knew what they would do to once she handed her sister's body over to be "taken care of" they would gouge a giant hole inter her once beautiful face and then burn her along with the others. She didn't care if Lori promised they'd be as gentle as possible, nobody was going to do anything to Amy except for the only person who truly cared about her, and that was Andrea.

She could hear them talking about her behind her back, she wasn't deaf. They were probably going to take Amy from her by force if she didn't cooperate. She could hear Rick approaching her from behind, most likely to convince her to give up her sister's corpse.

"Andrea-"

Before he can even get a word out, she pulls out her gun right in his face, cocked and ready to fire.

"I know how the safety works." She warns.

He backs away from her, apologizing as he does so, she turns back to her sister. Nobody was going to take her sister away from her, not until she gave her a proper goodbye, but right now just wasn't the right time for that.

ϪϪϪϪ

"Y'all can't be serious. Let that girl hamstring us?" Daryl hissed to Rick and the others. "That dead girl's a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?" Rick asks.

What do you suggest? "Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here." Duh, "Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No. For god's sake, let her be."

He scoffs at them and storms off, another one of the reasons why he hates being with people: they're too stupid to think for the benefit of everyone.

"Wake up Jimbo. We've got some work to do."

He stoops down to assist Morales in dragging a corpse over to the pile of burning bodies. Glenn tries to stop them.

"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing? This is for geeks." He points to a pile of bodies behind the Winnebago, "Our people go over there."

"What's the difference? They're all infected."

"Our people go in that row over there." His voice cracks "We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand?"

Fine! If it makes your stupid ass happy. He drags the corpse over behind the RV. "You reap what you sow."

"You know what? Shut up, man." Morales snaps.

"Y'all left my brother for dead." He shouts, pointing to the carnage around him, "You had this coming."

ϪϪϪϪ

Jim wasn't sure if it was his imagination or the humidity but, dammit why was everything so god damn hot right now?

It's probably just all this work I've been doing. He stoops down next to Jacqui to help with dragging away another corpse. The sooner we get this done the sooner I can find some shade…

"Are you bleeding?" she asks, noticing a fresh bloodstain on his shirt.

"I just got some on me from the bodies."

"That blood is fresh. Where you bit?"

"No, I just got scratched during the attack."

"You got bit?"

"I'm fine."

"Then show me."

He looks around nervously, "Don't tell please." He whispers. Please

Jacqui spills the beans, getting everyone's attention. "A walker got him. A walker bit Jim."

Jim tries to reassure everyone, "I'm okay, I'm okay."

It doesn't work; they start to circle around him like a pack of wolves, cutting off any chance of escape. They're gonna kill me, they're gonna kill me. He grabs a shovel and attempts to swing it at anybody who gets too close.

T-Dog grabs him from behind, forcing him to drop the shovel. Daryl lifts up his shirt to reveal a throbbing red bite mark on Jim's side.

"I'm okay, I'm okay" He tries to reassure them, but everyone just backs away from him, still fearful of possibly being infected.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." He breaths heavily, "I'm okay, I'm okay."


"I say we put a pickax in his head," Daryl suggests "and the dead girl's and be done with it."

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane counters.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it."

Dale sighs, "I hate to it—I never thought I would—but maybe Daryl's right."

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick argues.

"I'm not suggesting—"

"He's sick, a sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be." Daryl snaps.

"He's right," someone adds, "He's not sick, he's dead…well, he's a dead man walking."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick suggests, "I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure."

Shane's doubtful "I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"What if the C.D.C is still up and running?"

"Man, that is a stretch right there."

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection—"

Shane disagrees with that statement. "Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."

"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction." Lori points out.

"That's right, but it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me, if that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed, but we'd be safe there."

"The military were on the front lines during this whole thing, they got overrun. We've all seen that. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance."

Daryl glances back at Jim and makes his own decision, "You go looking for aspirin, do what you need to do. Somebody needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"

He rushes towards Jim, pickax raised, ready to slam it down on his head. Rick cocks his gun and points it at the back of his head prompting Daryl to stop in his tracks.

"We don't kill the living."

Daryl scowls at him, "That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head." his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We may disagree on things, but not on this. You put it down" Shane advises.

He slams the pickax on the ground and storms off. Rick drags Jim away by the arm.

"Come with me."

"Where are you taking me?" Jim asks.

"Somewhere safe." He answers as he leads Jim towards the Winnebago, he needed to keep Jim away from Daryl or things would get ugly very fast.

ϪϪϪϪ

Nick grumbles to himself when he feels another headache brewing in his skull. All this bullshit was making the cravings come back. Why did there have to be so much bullshit these days?

He roots around the inside of his sleeping bag where he hid the pills he stole from Dale the other day. Why do people have to be so stupid and not see the truth that happens to be standing right in front of them?

He finds the sleeping bag empty, that's odd? He could have sworn he hid it in there somewhere. What happened to them? He checks under his makeshift pillow. Nothing. Where the fuck did they go?

"Are you looking for something?" someone asks. He spins around to find his mother glaring at him, arms crossed, disappointment written on her face.

"What do you want me to say?" she snaps.

Nick bites his lip, unsure of what to say and struggling to find the right words.

Why you so mad at me? They're just vitamins, it's not like I stole Vicodin pills. He wants to say those words, but he can't. Those aren't the right words.

"You don't know?"

Again nothing, he's still looking for the right words.

"You have no idea. No idea."

He finds the right words "Mom, I—"

Before he can even continue, what feels like a sharp knife strikes him across the face. It happens so fast, so fast he can't believe it happened. Did she just hit—

She lashes out at him again, more forcefully this time, she strikes him multiple times. He attempts to shield himself from the onslaught but it seems to make the blows fall harder. Why are you doing this? It's not like I did something illegal. Why?

A part of him says that he should either fight back or run away, but another part of him says that doing either will only make things worse. The only thing he can think of doing is to fall to his knees and cower before her liked a whipped dog.

She grabs him by the wrist and yanks him to his feet. "If I ever catch you stealing again, do not even think that I will vouch for you when they try to kick you out." She hissed in his ear. "Do I make myself clear?"

He nods and whispers hoarsely "Yes," he feels ashamed of himself and wishes he could just disappear and not have to deal with this right now.

"Good, now get out. And don't come back until you can completely change."

He nods and shuffles past her, avoiding eye contact.

She struggles to not break down into tears until he's out of earshot.

ϪϪϪϪ

She's not sure whether to be proud of herself or indifferent at the sight of her son avoiding eye contact and interaction with the others as they proceeded to bury their dead. She knew why he was avoiding everyone; there was a small cut on his cheek from where her ring had slightly grazed him after she backhanded him. If people took notice they'd begin to suspect that he was hiding something, just like Jim, either that or he was too ashamed to be confronted about it.

Good, she thought to herself, he should be ashamed of himself. He should know by now that drugs are not going to make this thing go away.

He should know by now that he's an adult and that his actions are now his responsibility.

An adult; those two words seemed to bring a small pang of sadness in her heart. An adult, he was no longer an child who used to run about the place, catching bugs and teasing his little sister, no longer the little boy who would come rushing home after school to excitedly tell her about his latest adventure, no matter how trivial they seemed; no longer a child or a teenager anymore but an adult.

Memories start to play before her, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. If only I had more time, if only I had paid more attention, if only I gotten him help sooner, if only…

She wipes her eyes and rids the thoughts from her head. That was all in the past and there was no point in fretting about it now, and there was no point in blaming herself. She had given him enough chances for him to try and change and each one ended up in failure.

She thought he would've cared more about being with his loved ones after nearly having everything ripped away from him. She thought he would've realized that real life and responsibility still existed and wouldn't simply go away just by taking a couple pills. She thought he had changed…guess she was wrong.

She knew there was only one way to make him change. It was a decision that brought her to tears when she found out that he was stealing drugs from people. If she couldn't get him to change by offering help, then he was going to have to figure it out on his own.

ϪϪϪϪ

Dinner was tense and quiet that night. Nobody said a single word to Nick throughout the rest of the day, not even Tobias. Guess everyone was too preoccupied with the news they'd just received before nightfall.

I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning

In the morning, that's what Shane told everyone. In the morning, why the fuck aren't they going to be leaving now? The longer they stayed here the more likely they'd get attacked in the middle of the night. And Jim needs treatment, they longer they put that off the worse he'll get. Why not just pack up everything and hit the road now?

A yawn escapes him, he rubs his irritated eyes. Probably because they don't want us falling asleep at the wheel in the dark.

At the thought of the word 'sleep' his eyes slowly begin to close, his head hangs low. He hadn't slept since yesterday morning. He contemplates sleeping where he is right here right now, outside under the stars and…Wait, outside? No! Wake Up!

He jolts awake and shakes his head clear.

Stay awake, stay awake. Just stay awake long enough to get to bed and then…yeah, yeah just long enough to…to do whatever it is I need to do.

Before he can take another step towards the tent he shares with his mother and sister, Madison stops him. "What are you doing?"

Seriously mom, I'm not in the mood for games. "What's it look like? I'm going to bed."

"I can see that but you're not doing it under my roof."

"Your roof? Mom, it's a tent not a house."

"It's shelter so it's still the same thing, and you're still not welcome back here."

"….What are you talking about?"

"Do you not remember a single word I said to you this morning?"

He blinks at her for several minutes, searching his brain for what she had said earlier that day. Oh, wait…those words "don't come back until you can completely change". Those words begin to echo harshly in his ears.

"Oh come on, you can't be serious. You can't just kick me out."

"Oh I'm dead serious. And I can kick you out; you're an adult now you don't need me."

"But-but we're family. We look out for each other, I'm your son."

She's silent for a moment and looks him over. "You were my son, but then you changed. So no, not anymore."

Not anymore? Not anymore? What the fuck was that supposed to mean!? Is she disowning me!?

"I'm sure Dale has some room to spare in his RV. I suggest you get some sleep before tomorrow morning," she turns away and zips the tent flap closed, leaving him alone in darkness.


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