Author's Corner
I've got something important to tell you before you read this chapter, so listen up. I'm going on holiday tomorrow for two weeks, so I won't be able to update during that time, which means no new chapters. It's sad, I know, but when I get back I'll be sure to post the next chapter as soon as I can, because lucky for you it's all typed up already, so you won't have to wait that much longer. Thank you again for all the lovely support, I really do appreciate it! And I hope this chapter tides you over until I'm back! If you wanna follow my tumblr/instagram etc. the links are in my description, so just check it out. Though I won't be posting there either due to no wi-fi haha.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'll see you all in just over two weeks! Enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: TWD and it's characters are absolutely not mine in any sense, though I would love to be a part of the production crew since that's my dream job to become a director or screen-writer. :)
RUNNING BLIND
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A man stepped out from the shadows.
He wore a pale brown coat with the hood pulled up over his head, with heavy pockets that covered the majority of his large frame and probably protected him from walker bites well. His face was covered by an odd sort of gas mask, with huge darkened eye holes which allowed him to see. Beth also picked out the outline of a gun in one of his large pockets, one of which his hand was stuffed into, undoubtedly ready to pull out in case of trouble.
"Who are you?" he asked, "State y'business."
Beth shook her head slowly and rose a hand. "We don't want any trouble."
"Then don' make any. Tell me who you are and what you're doing, an' I don't give you hell."
"Give us hell?" Molly snorted, about to stride forward and do something stupid, before Beth put her hand on her arm and shook her head. She eyed the outline of a gun in his pocket, and thankfully Molly caught on and stayed where she stood.
Beth slowly bent down and lowered the axe she held onto the floor, then raised her hands and took a few steps closer to the strange man. "We don't want any trouble," she repeated, "We're just passing through."
"That's what they all say before they make a lunge for my neck."
"I'm not them . . ." she said softly, studying him carefully. ". . . What's your name?" she asked after a moments silence, and she could tell from his body language that he was taken slightly aback at the question. She supposed it wasn't every day someone asked him something as ordinary as that.
His hand twitched in his pocket and Beth saw him squeeze the gun in there. He was acting on impulse, defending himself from enemies. It was what you had to do in the world today . . . He was just doing that. Though the slight shaking of his shoulders that you could easily miss upon first glance made her think that there was perhaps something else wrong with him too . . . Something darker . . . That twisted him into the person he was now.
There was something wrong with everyone now.
She smiled. "I'm Beth. And this is Molly. We don't wanna attack you."
He watched them for a while through the huge black sockets of the mask, his eyes completely invisible making Beth unable to read him. Before he loosened his posture ever so slightly.
". . . Get your friend to drop her weapon too," he said in a low voice.
"Oh, no, not Hilda." Molly protested.
She'd named her pickaxe? Interesting, Beth thought to herself.
"Either you drop 'Hilda', or I blast you to kingdom come and she falls out of your cold lifeless hands."
"Drop it," Beth said. Molly was about to open her mouth and probably shout some cuss words, but Beth turned her head and shot her a glare. "Drop. It," she repeated, words dripping from her tongue ominously, and Molly flinched.
Molly released a heavy sigh, but obliged, setting Hilda down on the floor beside Beth's red axe.
Beth then turned back to the man and nodded, and he pulled his hand out of his pocket, thankfully leaving the gun in there.
She smiled again. "Now why don't you take off your mask so we can get a better look at you?" she suggested.
"What, just in case I'm not secretly covered from head to toe in blood like you are?"
Oh. She had almost forgotten how horrific she must look right now because of all that had happened. She must be absolutely drenched in walker guts, dripping with blood. He had every right to point a gun at her, she could've been anything. And wait . . . Was that him making an attempt at humour? Or was it just her imagination?
"I just wanna see your face . . ." she answered, "You can tell a lot about a person from lookin' into their eyes. And I can't exactly see yours right now to judge what kind of a person I think you are."
He seemed to think for a moment, before reaching up and pulling his hood down. He then reached back to unfasten the strap that held the mask to his face. With that no longer blocking her view, his face was now visible . . . and what was underneath was not what Beth had expected.
She didn't really know what she'd expected in the first place, to be honest.
A man's face stared back at her, lines of fatigue around his eyes and mouth. His skin was dark brown and his frenzy-clouded eyes trapped her. She felt herself unintentionally lowering her hands as she studied him. His face was defined by both shadows and light pouring down from the cracks in the ceiling, giving his face an almost ethereal glow and sharper definition. His eyes held no real trace of malice or killing intent, but Beth did see a considerable amount of distress in them, as if he was plagued by a dark memory . . .
Weren't they all?
Molly piped up then, her tone slightly rude and pushy, forcing Beth to hold in her sigh. "You know our names," she snapped, "What's yours?"
"Morgan," he replied, eyes still fixed on Beth's, "My name is Morgan Jones."
Beth cocked her head to the side and smiled inwardly. This man may be ruthless when it came to protecting himself, but she could tell from looking at his face that he wasn't a killer. When it came to the undead, maybe; but she had a feeling that he wouldn't just gun down innocent people . . . But there was definitely something that was troubling him, like there was for everybody. It had obviously gotten to him badly, and was slowly consuming him.
He needed to let go of whatever that was, because there was no place for mental deterioration now. You had to put things like that away, or they killed you.
"I'll ask again. What are you doing here?" he repeated.
"Just passing, we're tryna get to the harbour," Beth answered.
"Why? Ain't no boats left no more. Anyone who owned one or who was just smart took 'em, and the only ones left aren't usable."
"I'm not looking for a boat, I'm trying to find some people."
"What kind of people?"
"Good people."
"Ain't anyone left that fits that description anymore. You're either dead and killing as one of those things, or you're alive and still killing. Either way, you're killing. Ain't no one you can call 'good' anymore."
". . . You're wrong."
Morgan's expression faltered, and Molly regarded her with a puzzled expression.
"You're wrong," she repeated, "There are still people like that."
". . . Well, I ain't met any in a long time now," he said eventually, mouth fixed in a firm line.
"Doesn't mean they no longer exist. You may not have seen any for a while, but that doesn't mean they're not still there . . . We believe in God, don't we? And no one's seen him."
He went quiet for a moment and Beth wondered briefly that he probably might not be a man of faith. It was hard to keep that faith now, so she wouldn't blame him if he didn't. Or maybe he'd never believed? There was no way of telling. People chose whether or not they believed in God and things like that. Because sometimes it helped, and sometimes it didn't.
". . . You've kept your faith, I see?"
"I try to." she nodded.
"Does it help? . . . Putting your faith into something you're not sure is real? . . . Does it help the pain go away?"
Molly looked at Beth for the answer, and Beth carefully thought about her response. Did it help the pain go away?
"Sometimes . . ." she said, "It's good to have something to believe in, even if you're not sure if it's true. Because it gives you courage . . . The courage to go on. And that helps."
Silence fell, and for a while, all Beth could hear was the sound of distant walker snarls and the ocean. But no seagulls though, like she'd heard upon their previous visits to the coastal towns of Georgia. She hardly ever heard things of normality like that anymore. Probably because there weren't many things like seagulls left now, just as there were little remaining people. They were all the same in that sense. Prey. Victims to the dead, vulnerable and prone to being devoured.
No more.
Because Beth was done being prey to creatures without thought and feeling. Done acting as no more than a food source to hungry corpses that roamed the earth, sucking up every ounce of remaining humanity they could. Because Beth didn't want to be gutted. And she wouldn't be. Because if anyone was getting gutted in this unfair game of cat and mouse . . . It was them.
A tapping against one of the doors in the room caught the three's attention, and all their heads swung in the direction of the noise. Snarls erupted from behind the door, and the sound of bashing against wood.
Morgan pulled the gun out from his pocket and stalked over to the door, listening intently. His eyes had a sinister quality to them in that moment; wholly black, like a shark's. And then he swung open the door for two walkers to come stumbling in. Just as Beth was about to warn him that gunfire drew more, he did something . . . unexpected.
He thrust the long barrel of his gun deep into one of the walkers' temples, killing it silently, and then went to do the same to the other. They fell in a messy heap on the floor, and thick black blood ran down the barrel of Morgan's gun.
"Clear." he spat, eyes narrow and still laced with that dangerous gleam.
What screwed you up, Morgan? she wondered. What was the last straw for you?
"Okay . . ." Molly trailed, breaking the tension, "As fucking badass as that was . . . we should probably get out of here. Your people aren't gonna wait too long for you, Beth, so why don't we get a move on."
"Why wouldn't they wait for me?" Beth asked with a frown.
"Because people only keep others around if they have something to offer. What do you have to offer them?"
Beth's eyes narrowed. Underestimated . . . Always underestimated. A mistake people kept making. Dawn . . . Gorman . . . Daryl . . . The day would come when people finally stopped underestimating her, though it honestly didn't bother Beth all too much herself. And when it did, people would be afraid to say her name . . . So they would whisper it.
You're not a fighter.
No . . . She was worse.
Beth smiled—a smile that didn't quite reach her icy eyes—and pulled her sleeve down over the bloody cast on her wrist. If only they knew the things she was capable of. If only anyone knew.
"You're right . . ." she agreed, "We should get going." She turned back to Morgan. "You coming?" she asked, secretly hoping that his answer would be yes. Being alone meant avoiding the heartbreak of losing those close to you, but it didn't help in the long run.
You could be out there too long on your own.
". . . I'll accompany you as far as the docks, then when you get to your people I'm out."
"You don't do people, I take it?"
He shook his head. "No . . . Not anymore."
"I know how you feel there," Molly piped up, "Always better to be the lone wolf, that way people can't double cross you."
"Why are you so convinced that everyone is like that? That everyone is out to stab you in the back?" Beth asked.
"Because they are. Maybe not all of 'em, based on a few I've met, I'll give you that. But most." Molly replied, picking her pickaxe up from the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Not all of them . . ." Beth shook her head, "Not the ones I know."
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The corridor beyond the door the walkers had come from was dark. No more than a narrow passageway, with a lone window just before a crumbling staircase leading down to the ground floor. The walls, Beth noticed as they walked by, were covered with etchings into the wood. Words, phrases, and just odd markings that didn't make any sense. She considered asking Morgan about it but decided against it. It was apparent that he was a little messed up, and she didn't know why. Whatever had happened to him had been enough to send him into this.
And Beth wanted to help him.
As they reached the foot of the stairs, each step creaking under the pressure of feet but thankfully not giving way, Beth clutched her axe and made for the exit. There was no telling what could be on the other side of that door, and Beth wanted to get to the docks in one piece. Hopefully, the Grady crew had made it in one piece too . . . If they'd even made it at all.
Her hand reached for the handle and slowly turned it.
The sunlight on her face was harsh, and she had to blink several times to adjust to the intensity. Looking out into the street to check for any movement of walkers, she turned back and nodded for Molly and Morgan to follow.
The street was lined with various kinds of traps that looked to be designed for walkers. A very decent method of protection really. Beth passed Morgan a glance and her brow furrowed as it seemed clear that he had been the one to lay these traps. He may be sort of mad, but he knew how to survive.
They crept down the streets in the direction of the harbour, turning each corner carefully. Luckily though, there were no walkers in sight at all this time, nor the sounds of any nearby either. So the question was: where were they all? Where did they go . . . ?
"Why haven't we seen any walkers in the past ten-fifteen minutes?" she asked.
A smirk broke out on Molly's face at that question, and she swung her pickaxe around. "Brainless freaks should be wandering 'round the west end of the city right about now. I learned a thing or two how to keep 'em in line all the time I've been here. How do you think I get around the city so easily?" she asked.
"Sound . . ." Morgan trailed, seemingly realising something important. "The bells . . . You're the one that's been ringing the bells."
"That's me."
"Wait. What do you mean 'ringing the bells'?" Beth asked in confusion.
"If you've made it this long you must know by now that geeks are attracted to loud noises." Molly explained with a wide grin, "It's simple. I ring a bell in one part of the city, they all blindly wander over to the noise, then I travel across the rooftops to the part of the city I need to be."
Beth exhaled slowly, lips parted as she took in the information. Incredible . . . That was fantastic. Of course, sound drew them, so naturally, they would follow the sound of a huge-ass bell ringing. With such a simple yet effective method, you could storm the city with ease. Molly was a genius.
Morgan piped up. "Pretty good method, I'll give you that. But that bell's caused me some real problems with the walkers that follow. Gotten into a few tight spots because of it, an' they trample my traps if they're in a big enough herd."
Molly snorted and turned up her nose. "Not my problem. I do what I gotta do to survive."
"Guys . . . Now's hardly the time for a fight." Beth sighed, "Let's just get to the docks and be quick about it. We have to stick together if we wanna make it."
"No, we don't." Molly rebuked. "I've made it just fine on my own. People just slow you down, or get in your way . . . Or drag you down with 'em. No good comes outta being with others with the world the way it is. You're only worth something if you've got something to offer."
"That's not true. My people kept me around when I didn't have all that much to offer."
"Well, I don't know why they did it then." Molly spat harshly. "Must'a been a real burden for 'em."
Underestimated . . . One day they would learn . . . One day.
Surprisingly, Morgan had something to add there, and it made Beth stop walking.
"She can't be that big of a burden," he said, "She's still here isn't she?"
Beth looked at him. There was something else in his eyes as he looked at her, buried beneath that pain and warped sense of reality . . . Something like what she'd seen in Rick's eyes as he was trying to recover from Lori's demise . . . Something of a fighter. And that was enough proof that he could come back, and Beth knew she would try to help him.
Try, because try was all you could do now. And most of the time it wasn't enough . . . But sometimes . . . It was.
She looked at Molly then, all tough and hard on the outside, and smiled. "I am strong," she said, before continuing on her way forward towards the ocean; the sea breeze catching the ruby and gold ends of her hair and making them dance.
I am strong.
They were now on the last stretch of city before they reached the water's edge, and Beth broke out into a run when she saw the sea. Morgan and Molly followed her suit, and the three ran with their weapons held high and the smell of saltwater filling their nostrils.
Once at the water's edge, Beth stood on the concrete at the very edge and looked down along the shore for any people. There was no one in sight, but Beth's gut told her that wasn't the entire picture. She had to look deeper . . . Just like Daryl had told her when tracking. Look at what can be seen, but also what cannot be seen. It was a lot harder in a city landscape compared to the woods, but she could still try.
Beth crouched down low, closed her eyes, and remembered all Daryl had taught her.
"What're you doing?" Molly asked, but Beth hushed her with her finger. She needed silence for this if she was going to get anything.
What can ya smell?
Salt from the water . . . Decay and the rotting of flesh . . . Ash and smoke, likely from the remains of burned down buildings . . . Blood. But not old, rotting blood . . . New blood, fresh blood.
She opened her eyes then and looked around again. The scent was strong, suggesting that whatever had shed the blood had only passed through here recently. So she looked around for anything that could point towards what it was . . . and saw something floating in the water.
Bandage wrappings, soaked with red, looking to have been tossed into the water for disposal. Could they be from Tanaka's arm wrappings?
Beth turned her attention back to the pavement and squinted her eyes. It was very subtle, easy to miss, but there were markings in the dirt along the concrete. Indents of what looked to be messy footprints in the muddy concrete, leading down the shoreline . . . She pressed a finger into the dirt, smearing the mark. It was still fresh, meaning whatever had made these tracks had made them recently.
Beth stood up and bounded down the shore along the trail, breath ragged and sweat building as she never slowed. She could hear Morgan and Molly following, Molly's confused cries of what she was doing, but Beth ignored them. All of her focus was directed onto the muddy trail and heavy scent of blood that was steadily becoming stronger and stronger. The trail led to a crashed boat by the waterfront, hull smashed in and not fit for sailing in the slightest. But that wasn't why Beth was here.
She was here because this was where the trail finished, and the smell of blood was at its strongest.
What can you hear?
Morgan and Molly's footsteps as they neared her . . . The sound of the water splashing against the side of the concrete . . . Distant walker sounds . . .
And shuffling from inside the boat.
"Shepherd?"
She tried. It was crazy . . . Oh so crazy . . . But at the same time, not crazy at all.
And then, a grey beanie-clad head poked out from behind the sail, and broke out into a rare smile at the sight of the blonde standing on the water's edge with a matching smile.
"Beth!" the female officer beamed, "You made it! She actually made it! Guys look."
Effy's head was the next to pop up, and she bore a grin so wide it looked as if it could break her cheeks. Next was Tanaka, wearing his sheepish grin and passing a wave. Then finally Edwards, readjusting his glasses and staring in disbelief. All of them, alive and in one piece.
Beth's eyes shone at the sight of them all, and she dropped the axe in relief. They were okay . . . They were actually okay. Even without her there to guide them, they had managed to stay alive, and even have the initiative to hide. They were clever . . . They had done it.
Beth realised she had been treating them as if they were stupid before, which this quite clearly proved they weren't. They were smart, and Beth decided to never treat them otherwise ever again.
"You're alive!" Effy exclaimed, hopping out of the boat and practically launching herself onto Beth.
Beth wrapped her arms around the girl and returned the embrace. Shepherd followed and gave Beth a warm pat on the shoulder, still wearing her uncharacteristic grin, and Edwards helped Tanaka limp out onto the pavement.
"Who're these two?" the doctor asked upon noticing Morgan and Molly, supporting Tanaka's weight on him.
Beth broke away from Effy and looked at them. "This is Morgan and Molly. I met them in the city . . . They helped me."
Well Molly had insulted her on multiple occasions, and Morgan had pointed a gun at her, but she guessed they had helped her in a way . . . Sort of. They'd given her the desire to prove herself. To prove that she wasn't a burden, that she could make it. And also that her people would wait for her, because that's what good people did.
Shepherd gave them both a firm handshake, one which Molly flinched and appeared visibly uncomfortable at. It appeared she wasn't fond of formality. As much was to be expected from a woman who'd been alone for so long really.
"It was a good idea to hide in the boat," Beth praised.
"It was the Doc who suggested it." Effy grinned.
Beth's eyes widened at that and she turned to Edwards, whose lip was twitching in embarrassment and shuffling his feet. Her smile softened and she turned her head to the side.
"You did?" she asked softly.
He nodded.
Beth decided to dismiss that he wasn't meeting her gaze, and turned to look back at the city before suggesting they make for Virginia . . . Only to see a herd of walkers making their way around the street corner they'd just come from.
"Oh shit!" Molly cursed, whipping her pickaxe out to do some serious damage.
Beth heard the breath Effy took from beside her and saw Edwards pale at the sight. No! Things were going so well. They weren't going down here. They would make it.
"Run!" she yelled and pointed at a metal ladder leading up one of the buildings, "Get up there!"
Shepherd hooked an arm under Tanaka's free side and pulled him along with Edwards, helping him get up the ladder. Molly knocked one walker out with her pickaxe and went for a few more. She was pretty skilled in combat, it was no surprise that she had survived this long alone. But they had to work together here. So Beth handed Effy her own axe and gave her a nod, and the girl swallowed. She then reached down into her boot and pulled out the green and white tipped bolt, gripping it tightly and charging at a walker with it.
It sunk into the creature's skull easily, dark blood oozing out of the hole and dripping down onto Beth's already stained cast. She then yanked the arrow back out and let the walker fall to the ground, dead.
Morgan picked up a fallen road sign and whacked several walkers at once, sending them flying, with their brains splattering against the hard surface of the sign. Beth stabbed another with the bolt, kicking one that came too close to Effy in the knee so that it fell, and Effy swung the axe down on its head. Blood and guts shot out onto her and she gasped, hands shaking on the axe that was still wedged in the thing's head.
Beth was grateful for the bolt in this moment, as she took down several more with it to give Effy time to pull the weapon out of the walker's head.
"Now go!" Beth shouted to Effy over the snarling, and the girl nodded before making a run for the ladder. Once on it, she threw Beth back the axe.
Beth caught it and held it in one hand, the bolt still firmly held in the other. She swung it and took off a walker's head, allowing Molly to make a run for the ladder, and stuck the bolt in one's eye. She shot Morgan a glance during this and saw the killing intent in his eyes as he continued to swing the massive sign around. She slashed a walker out of the way and ran to him.
"Morgan! Morgan, come on, we need to go!"
He didn't seem to have heard her as he jabbed the sign down another walker's throat, blood splattering onto him. His eyes were completely black; feral. He wasn't going to leave until he had killed every last one . . . Or until they killed him. But Beth wasn't going to let either of those options fall into play, she was going to get him out.
There's always another way out.
She swung the axe down on one's head that was about to sink its teeth into him and shot him the fiercest glare she could muster. She then grabbed him by the collar of his coat and pulled his face close to his so she could scream in his face.
"Whatever happened to you . . . It isn't worth killing yourself over! YOU CAN COME BACK FROM IT!"
We aren't too far gone.
His eyes shot wide at that, and he looked as if he had been pulled out of some kind of trance. Beth breathed heavily and took out a few more walkers with the axe, sending more blood shooting out onto her. He looked at her as if he was mesmerised, despite being surrounded by flesh-eating monsters, with wide eyes and mouth hanging open.
"Go!" was the one word she said, and the only word she needed because he did exactly that.
He knocked out a few more walkers near her with the sign before tossing it and leaping onto the ladder. Beth shoved the bolt back into her boot and cut her way through the decaying corpses with the axe as she made her way to the ladder. One walker caught her leg though as she leaped up, and refused to let go.
Morgan reached down and grabbed her by the waist, helping tug her up. Beth kicked the walker in the face, but even that wasn't enough, so she swung the axe down and sliced off its arm . . . freeing herself. I don't want to be gutted. No walker would ever get the chance. That would not be her fate. Not at least until she'd found her family again. Because they were out there somewhere, alive and fighting.
She scrambled up the ladder after Morgan and fell onto her stomach once at the top, breathing heavy and sweat coating her body.
Molly put a hand on her hip and gave a laugh of disbelief at the sight of her. "There goes your fucking good luck again." she laughed, "Unbelievable."
And this time, Beth laughed along.
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