t was the seventh apartment on the fifth floor that made her stomach turn. She'd forced the door open with little to no trouble, it had been the smell that first made her gag. Stagnant air comingled with rotting food and decaying bodies was a powerful combination. Holding her breath, Laura walking in slowly – grimacing at the body of a person who'd shot themselves to avoid living in this new world.
The cabinets had some decent canned goods – beans mostly – but there was also a small amount of protein bars which could be a nice addition to their food stores. The kitchen was small, so there was only so much to go through before heading into the bathroom.
Opening the first door between her and the bathroom made her cry out and jump back – her heart racing with sadness rather than fear.
Daryl and Morgan were suddenly behind her, looking in and finding it equally as sad.
A crib stood in the bedroom, where slow, moaning cries seemed to echo within the four walls. She could see it through the slats, it's decomposing flesh and small fingers reaching out for them like the rest of the undead.
Morgan moved past them, ending it's suffering with a swift motion, looking back disgusted. He didn't say anything as he moved past, the boys leaving Laura to go through the bathroom cabinets by herself.
While they explored a small sporting goods store near the apartment complex, Laura smashed the glass that kept the pocket knives and threw many of the multiuse tools into a hiking backpack she'd managed to get down from the highest rack. When that was done, she told the guys that she'd be heading into the back.
Clicking her flashlight on, she climbed up on the storage racks to pull off any portable water bladders, sewing kits, water filters, and soap. There was a portable camp stove still in its box that she shoved into the bag. She also pocketed whistles, another compass, glow sticks and other sort of emergency camping gear that they could use. There were little electrolyte gummies, that she had used before, in boxes that she also threw in. Para cord bracelets and other small things she grabbed in handfuls, but she stopped when she came to the shoes section.
Biting her lip, she debated the usefulness of having good shoes for people – but decided that could be another trip.
As she was exiting the back, she saw a jar of something called seed vault, which turned out to be powdered veggies. Grimacing at the thought, she threw a few jars in – just in case.
"Laura," Morgan called out. "You ready?"
"Yeah!" she called back, jogging back to where they waited at the front door.
The walk back to the bunker was framed by a red filled sky, amber rays bleeding out to make an orange and yellow collage in the sky. Such a beautiful sky was met with the smell of rot in the air, wafting upwards as the heat made any skin touching the red-hot cement melt into the crevices. Half-hearted moaning of minds no longer able to dream was the music that filled these streets, evoking sadness and hunger in all that heard it.
If the small group had not been tired as they descend from what had been the epicenter of the city, the quiet, diseased streets created a cloud over their moods. The packs on their backs felt like they'd been filled with led, their shoes with cement.
Seeing the overly barricaded house made Laura breathe a sigh of relief. She knew what was inside. Blankets, a soft bed, pillows, and a warm meal. No matter how many nightmares had been created there, she had overcome them – and other people had benefited from the selfishness and evil of the people who'd created the place. It was no longer a hellhole, but a little ray of sunshine.
Once they were all inside the fence, Laura tossed Daryl the key as she needed to feed the chickens. She'd given the birds enough before leaving, plus there was plenty of space for them to wander around. Using the top part of the backpack to collect the eggs, she apologized to the girls for leaving them for so long, before heading down into the bunker.
Daryl had collected the portable generator and brought it down to pull the induction cook top into. Morgan had looked through the garden and found a ripe zucchini and small handful of other vegetables they could cook.
"Here are some eggs," Laura passed the waist pack to him, grinning as she watched him roll up his sleeves to cook. "You sure you don't want help?"
"You relax."
She chuckled as she grabbed all the bags – some picked up while wandering the apartment building – and started laying out everything they'd managed to pick up. Separating everything into medical supplies, general survival gear and necessities.
They had gathered several bottles of Advil, Motrin, Aleve, and Tylenol. Pads and tampons had been thrown in, and having gone through most of the bathrooms in the apartment complex, they had a sizable pile. Diapers too, as they made for sanitary alternatives to bandages. There was a large amount of expired prescriptions ranging from pain killers to anti-depressants. Toothpaste, floss, razors, soap, nail clippers, cotton swabs and q-tips made up another chunk of things found. Bleach had been found too, though not in as much of a supply as they might have wanted.
As for general supplies, there was plenty of tin foil, assorted household tools – hammers and nails were a godsend, according to Morgan – lighters, towels, batteries, rolls of duct tape, coffee filters, egg cartons, condoms, pantyhose, and dog and cat food was among the general supplies found. Laura had collected a small scattering of sewing needles and thread that she grabbed from a hidey hole in the wall, adding it to the pile.
Of course, there was other items as well. Socks – all sorts – underwear from the stores, some used that could be cleaned and used by other people. Morgan had grabbed shirts in a variety of sizes, along with pants and bras. Bras were useful for many things, not just their underwire. Laura had made sure to grab as many bras as she could get her hands on, along with any leather items that she came across. Leather was bite proof, and hard to rip – it was more likely to be cut than anything. So, there was a small pile of leather jackets on the floor of the bunker when she'd finished.
On the way back, she'd asked to hit a store that was a supplement retailer – incurring a few jokes about how steroids wouldn't help anyone. But inside she'd grabbed protein power and other powdered drinks that could be used to help ward off sore muscles and aid in the overall calorie consumption they needed to maintain. There were also protein bars and other prepacked goods, along with everything she'd gathered from the camping store.
"Think we have enough?" Morgan asked, interrupting her thoughts. Laura glanced up, amused to see him cutting up the zucchini, like the doom of the world outside didn't exist.
"A lot for one person," Laura contemplated, trying to think back to how many survivors were at the different compounds. "I'm not sure how far it goes with a hundred."
"Farther than you'd think," Morgan offered, smiling. "That apartment complex was a good place to hit."
"Yeah." Daryl agreed.
"I feel like I'm robbing ghosts," Laura admitted, looking at the clothing piles. "I get that they aren't using it anymore, but…"
"It's never easy," Morgan agreed, looking back to his vegetables. "but we can honor them by not letting the idea of who they were go to waste."
"True," Laura sighed as she started folding and rolling the clothing to fit better into the bags. "At least animals can't suffer anymore."
"What?" Daryl asked, sounding confused.
"I was just thinking how if most people are dead – undead – and most planes and things can't fly anymore, that the animals hunted to the brink would be safe from us." Laura replied, not looking up.
The two men exchanged a glance as they continued cooking, changing the subject to something happier as they awaited dinner.
With everything packed away, and stomachs full of scrambled eggs and fried vegetables, the trio got ready for sleep in much the same way they normally did. Laura had locked the door to the bunker for the inside, checking that everything was sound before settling into a pair of shorts and a shirt.
Morgan had initially refused a shirt to sleep in, but changed his mind after a while – which was nice, since that meant they could all relax in the same attire without the threat of being attacked in the night.
At the same time, she felt restless. Anxiety wracked her mind, though she tried to fight it, making sleep harder than she'd thought. It was when Daryl had finally lay beside her, pulling a blanket up around them both before kissing her forehead gently.
"What's up?"
"Nothing rational," she replied easily, sighing a little. "Seeing that baby…really bothered me."
"Yeah, it's fucked up," he growled, moving hair out of her face. "Is that all keeping you awake?"
Laura nodded, relaxing in his grasp. "You?"
"Restless," he whispered. "don't like have the Saviours out there still while people are trying to rebuild. Or that horde."
"Yeah," she agreed sleepily. "That's…a lot. I still haven't wrapped my head around the fact their leader is in a basement of a house."
Daryl growled unhappily. "A lot of people disagreed with that decision."
"I think…" she paused, wondering if it was her place to comment. "that death is too easy for people like that."
He stared at her, reflections of pain and pride, fear and anxiety creeping into his expression.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, aware she shouldn't have brought it up.
"It's not your fault."
"It's not yours either." She reminded him gently, searching his face for something to tell her he believed that.
"Did you forgive them?" he asked in a whisper, his voice shaky.
Laura paused for a moment, letting herself embrace the rush of feelings that came over her.
Did she hate them? Yes.
Had she honestly forgiven them? Yes and no.
Did she want revenge? No.
Had she forgiven herself? Yes.
"I'm trying to forgive them," she replied after a minute. "for me. They will always be guilty, but I am not - will not - be trapped by what happened."
He looked forlorn for a moment. "I'm not sure I can."
"And that's ok."
"But I hate him, Laura."
"That's still ok."
"When does it all go away?" he asked, his voice barely audible, voice cracking.
"I don't know," she whispered back. "I really don't know."
Holding each other tight, they fell asleep in silence – trying to keep the demons at bay.
