Day 14

6:05 PM

A strangled sound escapes my mouth as the back of Todd's head disintegrates into a fine red mist behind him. He remains standing for what seems like an absurd amount of time before he crumples to the ground. I stare.

I feel a hand on my arm, tugging me towards the house. I tear my eyes away from the body in the front yard, my gaze landing on Jenni's face, tight lipped and white, as she drags me inside.

"We don't have time," she says matter-of-factly. "If they weren't on our trail before, they definitely are after that gunshot."

Dean starts to apologize, and she cuts him off.

"Don't. We can hash it out later. For right now, grab what you need, and let's go."

Dean hustles up the stairs, leaving me standing in the foyer alone. I'm shaking, either from the stress of the past hour finally catching up with me, or from seeing someone (Walker's notwithstanding) shot dead in front of me. I'm not sure just yet.

I continue to stand there while Jenni and Bryce scuttle around me, grabbing this and that.

Dean comes thundering down the stairs, carrying all of our bags, Sam's button down shirt draped over one arm. He tosses my bag at me, his face grim.

"You can fall apart later, ok? Right now, just focus on getting out of here," he says as he shoves my arms into the sleeves of the shirt. "Button."

I do so, then secure my grip on my bag, and start to follow Jenni out the back door when I panic.

"Wait!" I yell, running for the living room.

Dean doesn't have time to follow before I return, my copy of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" clutched in my hands. Dean rolls his eyes, and pushes me out the door.

Day 14

6:25 PM

I'm not sure when they decided on a plan of action, but when we left the house, we skirted through the backyard of the house behind the home we were leaving onto the opposite street.

We move silently, quickly, Jenni and Dean both with weapons drawn. Dean had shoved his knife into the back of my pants, and I can feel it there. The handle digs into my skin, and I try to focus on that instead of the situation.

We make a few turns, each time with either Jenni or Dean checking the path before allowing myself and Bryce to follow.

A few stores come into view at the end of the street, and it dawns on me where we are. The adrenaline has overshadowed how long we've been running, but I realize it's been a while because it suddenly occurs to me that we're on the opposite side of the set of businesses that make up this part of town.

I hold back a choked sob when I see the Impala, and beyond it the wide open doors of the convenience store.

Dean holds up a hand, and the four of us stop moving. He turns back, one finger over his lips. There's Walkers, not many, maybe six, hovering between Baby and the 7-11.

We nod.

He points to himself, then the car.

Anxiously, we watch him jog to the driver's side door, and slide inside.

I close my eyes, silently praying to anyone that might be listening.

Jenni's eyes dart to me, and in that small look I understand what she wants to say: if the car doesn't start on the first shot, we're toast.

We both turn our gazes back to the Impala, holding our breath.

There's a brief sputtering sound, and then nothing.

Dean's curse floats to us.

The sputtering again, and then the incredibly loud sound of an engine roaring to life. Somehow, we're able to hear a joyful "That's my girl!" over the noise.

He backs up fast, throwing the car into gear before it's even stopped moving. He barely stops as we jump in, Jenni shotgun, Bryce and myself in the back.

Day 14

7:00 PM

Jenni gives directions. Turn here. There. We wind our way through the suburbs, and end up in a wide open parking lot, a chain link fence cutting it down the center. It stretches across the roads on both sides of the lot, no end in sight as it passed between buildings.

"Quarantine fence," Jenni says quietly.

"Jenni," Dean says.

"No," she interrupts. "Don't apologize. If I had…"

She seems to choke up a bit, and I try to focus on moving my few belongings into Sam's duffel. I'd grabbed it immediately when I got in the car.

"I should have told you," she says on a sigh, turning in her seat so she can see both Dean and myself. "I just thought that with things the way they are, he would behave himself."

She must notice my glance at Bryce, because she says, "It's fine. Bryce is aware of Todd's…shortcomings."

Dean snorts, but leaves it at that.

"He hurt my mom," Bryce pipes up. "Did he hurt you too, Caitlyn?"

His face is sad, big brown eyes looking up at me. He looks terrified.

"No, sweetie, I'm ok," I try to reassure him. "He tried, but I'm ok."

He takes a deep breath, nods, then declares himself tired, curling up on the seat and closing his eyes.

Somehow, I don't think sleep will come as easily to the rest of us.

Day 14

9:15 PM

Bryce has been asleep for about an hour and a half, the latter half of which had been filled with Jenni and Dean quietly plotting out the rest of the night.

They had decided that we should stay put, parked under a tree, about midway between the edge of the parking lot and the quarantine fence bisecting it.

I stare out the passenger window from my spot behind Dean. I had tried to turn my back to the door and lean against it, to stretch out as much as I could without disturbing Bryce, but the paranoia made it impossible to sit still. So I sit facing front, my head turned almost completely to the right, staring into the darkness that is downtown Topeka. I slide my left hand over the ugly red scar on my breast. It's mostly healed, but I can see the redness where scabs had been torn away in the scuffle with Todd.

Every few minutes, my eye catches what I think might be movement, but it's fleeting, and disappears before I can determine if it was real or just my mind.

It's gotten cold, and I occupy myself with shrugging my arms back into Sam's shirt. I'd removed it on the jog, and tied it around my waist. As I fasten the last button, I turn my gaze back to the cityscape. This time, I know for certain that the movement is there.

I can see them now, a group of them, shuffling in tandem. There must be over a thousand. They're funneling out from a narrow alleyway, slowly flooding a small park with a long-empty fountain at the center. Some of them bump into the fountain, falling directly into the dry basin. They begin to crawl, until those behind them fall as well. Soon, there's a mass of wriggling, pissed off Walkers writhing and rolling at the center of the herd.

I lose sight of the fountain as the rest of them move continually forward, directly towards the fence about 50 yards to our right.

I must have made some sound, because Dean shushes me, and Jenni murmurs quietly, "It's alright."

She's right, as they approach the fence, there's a slow shift to their left, and they resume their ambling along the fence line, not quite touching it.

I barely breathe. Seeing this many of them in one place, I'm terrified.

Dean breaks the silence and asks, "Have they done this before?"

But before Jenni can answer, she slumps down, and a low moan escapes her.

Dean shifts in his seat, tossing a glance at me that clearly demands to know what the hell is going on. I give him a Fuck-if-I-Know shrug, and turn back to Jenni. She's still moaning, only it's getting louder, and more despairing.

I lean forward and touch her shoulder gently, "Jenni? What is it?"

She shakes her head back and forth, her red curls bouncing violently back and forth.

I glance back at Dean, just as baffled as before.

Dean opens his mouth to try a new tactic, when Jenni says, very softly, "Do you see the girl in the blue sweater?"

We both follow her gaze, and quickly land on a Walker along the fence wearing a ragged blue sweater with a grotesquely dirty kitten on the front of it. Her sneakers look like they may have once been a bright pink, but now they're mostly covered in dirt and gore. She can't be more than five.

"Who is she?" Dean asks, barely a gruff whisper.

I swallow thickly, having already drawn my own conclusion.

Jenni presses her fingers to the window as she watches the child pass, and breathes out, "My daughter."