Chapter Eleven: Epilogue
Nothing lasts forever, I knew that. We all knew that. A few days came and went and the group was under high amounts of stress. Rick had called us all together to act as a jury to decide the fate of Randall. I stayed out of it for the most part but mentioned that it seemed unfair- I was once a stranger to the group as had been my friend Kaeleb and pressed the point that if they wanted to kill Randall they should have done so with Kael and me as well. Shane laughed and said maybe we should have gotten rid of you. At that point Daryl had stood up, ready to throw a swing but T-Dog and Rick held him back. I just walked away, outside.
I went back to keeping to myself, even though Rick had told me not to do so. That is, until the day came around when Shane started acting sketchier than usual. I followed him as he paced around Randall's shed- I assumed he was the one taking watch so I didn't pay much mind to it. After a while I returned to my camp. After a few hours I heard a ruckus- upon investigation I found the others gathering around the shed. Shane had been shouting and everyone was gathering around. I rushed over to hear Shane screaming about how the boy jumped him and broke his nose. I made a remark about how it looked more like his face made friends with a tree or something the way it was scraped up and bloodied. Shane just gave me the most hateful stare he ever had before. He growled behind gritted teeth and ignored me. Daryl, Glen, and Rick went with him to hunt him down.
Night fell and they still hadn't returned, gunshots rang in the distance but I didn't know if anyone else had heard them. A while later; the barn was a blaze and the farm was being overrun by walkers. I quickly packed up some essential items, my buck knife, daddy's flask, momma's locket, and my old .45 Colt revolver I'd come across in an old gun store along my way through Georgia. I didn't prefer using guns but this was a do or die situation. I packed up some ammo, a jacket, and a few other necessary provisions before I made my way to the others. I grabbed a machete that Daryl had left in a tree near my camp and kept going.
I moved quickly and quietly but anxiety began to sink in. This is when the realization hit me- not everyone was going to make it out alive. The farm was going to fall. Everyone had scattered by the time I made my way close, I shouted Daryl's name but he was on Merle's old motorcycle and couldn't hear me. Walker's kept coming and I kept hacking away. It didn't take long before I was covered in blood and sweat. Fear began to sink in as I noticed members of the group driving off. Hershel was still by the front lawn, standing his ground. Rick approached him with Carl and seemingly tried to get him to leave.
I shouted Rick's name and saw him look my way, but to my dismay a walker had taken my distraction to its advantage as it grabbed by arm. Rick screamed my name and started shooting. There were walkers surrounding me before I knew it and I screamed uncontrollably, reaching for my pistol. I had six shots and had to use them wisely before I could reload. I shot twice, Rick shot a few more times himself, but in a harsh twist of fate one of the bullets missed its mark and dug deep into my right shoulder. I cried out in pain, it must have sounded like a banshee. Before I knew it, Rick was shouting to Hershel that they had to leave, that the farm was lost. I was on the ground- gasping in shock. For the moment I was in the clear, but I knew more walkers would come around.
I made my way to one of the old trucks, praying that it would start. It was my last hope… My luck had shown when the keys were in the visor. I turned the ignition. The first three times failed, I began to cuss through my hysterical tears. Finally, the engine roared to life and I stomped on the gas pedal, tearing out of the yard. I drove, my mind was scattered and I was losing blood. All I could think about was how the group had left me and how Rick, though on accident, had shot me- and then even left me for dead as it appeared.
As I drove I knew I had to pull myself together. This wasn't the first time I had been on my own, nor would it be the last. The adrenaline was wearing off and my wound began to ache. Despite my injury I knew I had to stay awake so I drove until day light which luckily were only a few hours. I stopped, on the side of the road where I had seen a stream. Cleaning my would was now the most important thing I could do in the situation so that's what I did. To my advantage the shot had gone clean through so I did not have to dig the bullet out. As I washed the wound I bit deeply into my jacket in an effort to muffle my cries of pain.
How could this happen to me, I thought to myself as I took off one of my two tank tops. I ripped it into sections using my teeth. Taking two sections I wadded the soft cotton into balls and using another few strips of cloth, tied them securely and tightly over the entry and exit wounds from the bullet. My next plan of action was to cauterize the front and back of my shoulder, but to do so I'd have to build a fire and find a solid scrap of metal.
Searching through my bag I found matches, they would work to start a fire. I contemplated using the machete or my buck knife for the cauterization but I knew that they were both too thin. Desperate for a solution, I reached back into my bag. I felt a cool metal sensation against my fingertips and that's when I realized that I still had the flask that had belonged to my father. I smiled softly to myself and pulled it out. Swishing it back and forth I realized there was still some whiskey left inside- perfect to numb the immeasurable pain I was about to immerse myself into.
It was mid-day when I lit the fire, but I knew that if I wanted my plan to work I would have to let the fire burn for a long time in order for it to get hot enough to do the job at hand. I took three measurable swigs from the flask before tossing it into the heart of the fire.
"I'm sorry daddy, but I think you'd understand," I spoke softly as I poked and prodded the old stainless steel flask. After about an hour or two I knew it was time. By now I had been shaking, I knew I had been going into shock. I had no idea whether this effort would word or not, but with every fire of my being I knew I had to survive. I had already taken off my bandages and soaked my canvas jacket in the stream; using it I grabbed the hot flask out of the fire, while I used one of the sleeves to bite down on. There was no room for error, I had to move quickly and do it right. As I quickly pressed the red hot metal to my bare skin, the sound of the metal searing my flesh couldn't compare to my muffled scream. I pulled away the flask and quickly positioned it on the other side of my shoulder and pressed it against the exit would. The smell of my skin burning finally made its way through my nostrils. Finally, I dropped the flask and fell to the ground in agony.
In a daze, I knew I had to make it into the truck- it was my best protection against walkers and anything else. Once I gathered my things I stumbled to the truck and opened the door with my left hand; I could hardly use the right because of the pain. As I closed the door I felt myself drifting away and the world slowly went black. When I finally awoke, my vision was blurred and my senses were disorientated. I noticed only that it was night and there were muffled voices around me. After a moment I noticed I was being carried by someone. Whoever it was had been strong, and definitely male. I looked up at him, trying to make out the details of his face but my eyes could hardly focus but finally he spoke; with a voice I recognized.
"You're alright now," the man said quietly. The world started to go black once more but I faintly heard him whisper my name softly, "Ashlyn."
Author's Note:
And so ends the first "book" of the World On Fire fan fiction series... A very dramatic and… gruesome ending I know. But fire seemed to be a perfect way to end things. I really do hope you enjoyed reading it, and if you did then please keep in touch for the sequel that will be released soon! The next story line will follow Ashlyn and the others as they make their way into season 3 of the show. We all know what happened after the farm, but what will become of Ashyln… For the new story I would love your input so please take this poll found at the top of my profile page! ~whysostephanie or go here polls/24388594/where-should-ashyln-end-up-a-world-on-fire-poll
Or message me with your ideas. :)
Should she be found by Rick and the gang? Or what about Merle back in Woodbury? What about Kael, whatever happened to him?
I'll see you all very soon. I will include a link and brief introduction on the end of this story when the time comes. Until then- stay beautiful.
