The Walking Dead: A New Day Gone Bye
Chapter 25 – Eclipsed
Kenny twisted the wheel, making the curve around the fence. The RV drove off the endless road, bumping around in holes and carvings. As they gained speed, Wiltshire Estates vanished in the horizon, and the sounds of the chaos faded out little by little.
Allen sat in the edge of the back seating, his face buried into his hand and his eyelids secreted the salty tears. He hiccupped and sobbed, his belly contracting inside and out, followed by sniffles and groans escaping his lips. Billy and Ben sat beside him, with confused expressions stamped onto their visages.
"Where's mommy?" Billy inquired.
"She's—your mother has—I-" Allen stuttered, his lips tightening and quivering, followed of another sobbing convulsion that bent him in two. "She's dead! Your mother is dead!"
Seeing that he needed nurturing, Jacqui grasped the man in a hug. The rest of the group viewed the reunion passively, too unsure on what to do. Billy and Ben looked at each other, baffled, like they hadn't understood what their father had said. Clementine approached Lee. The man peeked down, shaking his head negatively. Clem gazed at the ground, with a sad frown and her drooped mouth. In the meanwhile, the road kept stretching out in the horizon and the trees passed by them in the form of green blurs.
Once they deemed they were far enough, Dale stopped. They surely needed a break. Lilly and Larry were glad to get off the camper's roof, plus the vehicle was low on gas. Glenn already had his jerrican and transparent tube at hand. He headed towards a nearby dirty, black car, and began pumping fuel from the deposit.
Allen exited the RV, marching towards the edge of the road. He stared at the dense forest. Rick followed him, stopping beside him. "I'm sorry Allen…" Rick said, scratching his head. "I just…I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything. Just leave me alone." Allen bluntly responded.
Lee stepped off the vehicle, with Clementine right by his tail. Clem looked down the road they had come from. "Are the bad people gone?"
"Of course, sweet pea." Lee asserted. "Don't worry about that."
"I, uh…" Clementine mumbled, rummaging inside her backpack. "I did this for you yesterday."
Clementine passed onto his hand a sheet of paper. Inspecting it, Lee cracked a smile at seeing that it was a slurred drawing of a leaf, with slick contours forming its shape.
"It's called a leaf rubbing." Clementine explained.
Lee almost felt guilty at smiling. "It's great sweet pea." Lee folded the paper and stored it in his pocket. "See… why don't you go and draw inside the RV?"
Clementine didn't really feel like doing it now, but she obeyed nonetheless, and entered the camper. "Okay." She rumbled.
Lee folded his arms, seeing Clementine disappearing inside the vehicle. He stood there, pondering. He knew that Clem was just an eight-year old, but he knew that she was wise, understanding, clever. She was also a tough cookie to crack, and he wondered how all of the past events had affected her. She didn't show much…but that doesn't mean she didn't feel anything.
Lilly and Larry climbed down the lateral ladder on Dale's camper. Larry carefully climbed down, grunting at each step. Lilly patted Larry on the back once both of them touched the ground.
"You guys okay?" Lee asked, approaching them.
"Yeah! Fine as a jolly sunny day!" Larry sarcastically barked, brushing past Lee, hitting him on the shoulder on his passage.
Lilly sighed, butting her fist against her hip and inclined her posture a bit. "Sorry…you just know how he is."
"It's…okay. I'm sure he's a great guy." Lee reassured, albeit in a non-convinced tone and with a twisted mouth.
"He is…he just has his problems." Lilly answered.
"Thanks a lot for back there…you saved us." Lee thanked, facing Lilly with a grateful expression.
"At least you came back for us." Lilly retorted.
"I'm, uh…sorry." Lee said, scratching his hair and lowering his head, followed by a gulp. "I'm sorry you had to jump on top of the RV."
"My dad and I are alive. That's as much as I can ask." Lilly smirked.
"So…how's the pill situation?" Lee dared to ask, with a preoccupied expression.
Lilly sighed, scrubbing her eyes with her fingertips. "It's bad. We ran out yesterday. I've been able to keep him calm, but I'm not sure if he'll make it."
"We're gonna have to find a pharmacy soon." Lee remarked, thinking that finding medicine nowadays was probably easier said than done.
Doug was sitting in the passenger seat of the camper, tapping his fingers against the dash and insufflating his cheeks with air. He regarded Glenn siphoning gas, and the multiple group members speak outside. During that moment of passivity, Doug was putting his creative juices working, trying to find ideas for little contraptions he could do to help the group. One thing he already had in mind, was that maybe with the right materials, he could build a solar panel, if the group ever happened to settle.
Glimpsing at the rearview mirror, he saw Allen at the side of the road, with Rick near him. Doug exhaled, frowning his brows. "I'm worried about him."
Dale flicked his eyes toward Doug in his hollowed-out and rugged orbits. "What good is that gonna do? The only thing we can do to fix Allen is bring back his wife…and we can't do that. Just let him mourn—for as long as it takes. You don't know what it's like to lose a spouse, Doug. He's going through hell right now. I know."
"…and the dinosaur was like, POW, POW, POW! And he was like, super-toasted and then…"
Duck's repetitive and annoying speech about the comic issue he read seemed like a looping disk – it just repeated after each sentence. Kenny and Katjaa watched their son with a faint smile, which attracted their hands toward one another. They thanked the Lord every day that Duck didn't pay much attention to everything that was going on, and that the apocalyptic events just passed right by him. He was always cheerful and playful…
But Katjaa knew how this would backfire on them in the future.
"Ken…?" Katjaa muttered, kicking a pebble and looking at Kenny with a more austere expression.
"What is it, hon'?" Kenny quizzed, facing Katjaa, his eyes fixed on Duck.
"For how long are we gonna keep lying to our son?" Katjaa said.
Kenny's wrinkles constrained, and his expression became heavier, like an anvil had fallen on top of him. "What do you mean?"
"Back when we were leaving camp in Atlanta…I think Larry was right." Katjaa told him, in a oppressing serious tone. "We have to tell our son that those people—Mark, Shane, Amy, Jim—he needs to know that they're dead."
"Kat…c'mon, you know we can't just say that to Duck!" Kenny disagreed, bugging his eyes. "Look at him…he's joyous. Why should we take that away from him?"
"I'm just afraid that he won't be able to adapt to this world…" Katjaa confessed, sliding a hand through her arm, lowing her head.
"Isn't that what we want to avoid? I thought we were aiming at keeping Duck the way he is." Kenny replicated, crossing his arms. His grin vanished with the breeze and he chewed the tip of his lip underneath his horseshoe mustache.
"I know…I don't want him to change, really, I don't…" Katjaa declared, her voice throbbing for a split second. "But if he doesn't know what out here, how will he survive?"
"We'll protect him." Kenny said the first thing that came to mind.
Katjaa let out a feeble giggle. "We can't always be around him, you know. There will be a day in which we'll lower our guard, and our little boy won't know how to protect himself."
"So what do you propose? Give him a gun?" Kenny proposed in a sarcastic tone, knowing how terrible that suggestion was.
"No…but look at Lee. He tells Clementine everything." Katjaa exemplified, waving her arm in Lee's direction, who had his back on them and was chatting with Lilly.
"This isn't about age. It's about maturity. Duck's too absent-minded to know the unspeakable shit we go through every day!" Kenny argued. The arguments were starting to become a discreet dispute.
"Just hear me out…" Katjaa remarked. Kenny opened his mouth to speak, but Katjaa quickly cut him off. "No, Kenny…I know what this might and might not do to him…I really didn't want to do this…but I'd rather have our son alive and prepared for the worst, that have him living in a lie…look at everybody we've lost so far…I don't want him to have the same fate…I just want what's best for him…"
The couple crumbled into silence, as Kenny adjusted his hat and his mullet-hair. Kenny finally sighed, giving in. "You're right…I guess do it now?" Kenny said. Katjaa responded with a nod.
Katjaa nodded. Letting out a breath, Kenny and Katjaa marched toward Duck, already readying the speech in their heads. Carl was leaning against the camper, the tip of his sheriff hat shadowing his visage. Duck continually spat mindless words at him, albeit Carl's mind had long drifted off and he no longer listened to him.
"Hey, Duck…wanna cool it for a moment?" Kenny halted him, surprised by the speed of his words. Duck looked at his parents, whilst Carl nudged his head, probably relieved that they had got him off the hook. "Listen…Carl, could you excuse us for a moment."
Carl nodded, before getting back on his feet. He stretched his fingers, before bustling out of the scene. Duck gazed at the clueless Kenny and Katjaa, wondering what they wanted to tell him.
"Listen, Duck…" Kenny began, kneeling down to his height and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You remember…back at camp…when…" Kenny made intervals between his disastrous words.
Katjaa, seeing that her husband was embarrassing himself and making no sense, gave a step forward. "What daddy's trying to say is that we that we know that you should know the absolute truth."
"About what?" Duck enquired, hoping they hadn't found out about the pranks he pulled on Clementine. His voice was grave and low as if in a purr.
"We want to talk to you about why Donna isn't coming with us." Katjaa elucidated, talking in the sweetest tone she could pull off.
"Oh. She's dead, isn't she?" Duck said in an inferior pitch, as he lowered his head.
Katjaa and Kenny exchanged looks for a split second. "Yes…that's right, son." Kenny said.
"We thought that you should know." Katjaa repeated, scratching her head, before the three grasped each other in a family hug.
As if in the hourglass had stopped time, T-Dog's impassivity was apparent. Sitting inside the camper, his apathetic fingers were holding a copy of Moby Dick. Despite his eyes being locked on the pages filled with text, he was thinking about what had happened just fifteen minutes ago. He was stuck on that page for what seemed like an eternity now and he wasn't quite able to focus and just read.
He was yanked out of his spell once he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning his head, T-Dog perceived Carol standing beside him, with her arms crossed and an ambivalent tension circling around her.
"Uh…yeah?" T-Dog blurted out, frowning.
"Hi, T-Dog." Carol greeted. She let out a heftier breath, before rubbing her hand against her other arm.
"Somethin' you need?" He asked.
"Yeah…actually…I was wondering if you could get something for me." Carol said.
"Hmm?" T-Dog hummed, becoming a bit more curious, as he adjusted his torso in the seating in order to face Carol.
"Do you happen to have…an extra gun on you?" Carol wondered.
T-Dog blinked, as if in his impassive trance was tugging him back in. He shook his head to dissolute that hypnosis. "Why do you even want one?"
"I'm just thinking…with everything that's happened, I think that a gun would make me feel safer at night." Carol confessed, before she noticed T-Dog's complex expression. "Actually, just forget about what I said…"
"No, no, no…" T-Dog intervened, making her halt dead on her tracks. T-Dog whipped out of his belt a six-shooter revolver, that he lent to her. "You'll need it more than I will."
"What about you?" Carol said, grabbing the gun. She almost dropped it, surprised by the unexpected weight. "Won't you need this?"
"My awl's been servin' just fine up until now." T-Dog reasserted him, before indicating the chair situated on the opposite side of the table. "Sit down. I'll show you how to use one."
Carol sat across T-Dog, having extreme care with the gun so that it wouldn't go off. She set down the revolver on the center of the table, before T-Dog picked it up with habile fingers and clicked in a lateral button, which made the cylinder slide to the side. "This is how you pop off the clip. You only got six shots, so make 'em count. Every time you gotta reload, you have to load a bullet into each slot." T-Dog shoved the cylinder back inside. "There's no safety, so you gotta be careful. If you want to make it safer, then keep the hammer high. It won't stop the gun from shooting though, so be careful. All you need to know now is that you should use the notch to know where you're aiming."
"How'd you learn to shoot?" Carol asked, leaning on her palm. "Shane teach you?"
"Not really." T-Dog denied, slithering his nails through his bald head. "Thing is…when I was a teen…I ran with a few bad thugs…"
"Oh. Okay. Thanks."
After giving Clementine and Carley a goodbye hug, Lee now had his feet sunk in a freezing water. He tried to tell himself that maybe, he would succeed. Maybe he would. He tried to keep a little bit of faith within him. But a little voice from the deepest layers of his mind whispered to him that what he was doing was inutile.
Lee was walking barefoot inside a lake. The cold pierced his skin and reached the depths of his bone. The water lingered just below his knee. With a knife ready at his belt, and a spear crafted out of a sharpened branch clutched in his hand, Lee was essaying to catch whatever fish might have survived in that wide pond. His eyes flicked in every direction, always hopeful of catching a glimpse of a wading fish in the water, that created waves with each step he gave. In the reflection, he could see the gloomy sky and his worn, fatigued expression.
Rick accompanied Lee in his task. He too had an improvised spear in his hand, and the two men trekked a few meters away from each other through the lake. The pond was surrounded by a forest, that separated them from the rest of the group. It was still quite cold, but the snow had stopped. Only a few batches of snow dangled from the trees and the leaves.
"This is freaking useless." Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes with his stiff hand.
"C'mon…there's got to be something here." Lee replied, looking around him. For a split second, his sentence was deformed by a quivering jaw.
"I think we'd be better off at hunting." Rick stated.
"We can't afford to waste bullets." Lee said.
"We've been at this for half an hour, Lee." Rick told him, with a discreet raise in tone. His legs were tired and getting cramps, and he could barely take a step. "It's freezing. There oughta be other ways to find food."
"You're the one who suggested this." Lee killed that idea.
"Talk me about it." Rick agreed, with a throbbing pitch. "But now I'm regretting it."
Lee sighed. He halted dead on his tracks, beside Rick. He finally gave in, thinking now, more surely than ever, that what he was doing was useless and that they would be better off at sparing their energy for something else. "You're right…let's just go back."
Rick and Lee took a demi-turn, utilizing their legs to shove the water out of the way and drag themselves back to shore. They threw their lengthy spears on the water, which sunk into its icy profundity. The panorama was embedded in a swirling fog, and the wind bashed against them, sending shivers down their spines. The environment – devoid of any human, animal or undead activity – made it look like they were imprisoned in a never-ending limbo.
"I was thinking…the thing we need right now…is a goal. A destination." Lee exhaled, his breath turning into a cloud of fog in front of his nose. "We were planning to head to the CDC before everything happened…maybe it's time we get back on track."
"It's a good plan, Lee…" Rick agreed, but contradicted his words with a sad frown. "But will we even make it there?"
Lee frowned, snapping his head back slightly. "Rick…I know what you must be thinking…but we're so close. We've…you've led us all this far…"
"Four people are dead…" Rick remarked with a dragged breath.
"Twenty-two alive." Lee retorted with a faint smirk, as the two men returned back to camp.
"Alright, listen up everybody!" Lee hollered to the formed crowd in front of him. Carley was pacing around on top of the RV and Daryl tapped his foot as he quietly stood by an isolated corner. Each member of their gargantuan yet diminishing group was gathered in an ensemble in front of the camper. "Me and Rick, we talked, and we already have a next destination in mind. We're heading toward the CDC."
"Smells like another damned fiasco to me." Daryl commentated, interrupting him. Lee, along with a few more survivors, directed their glares towards him.
"What do you mean?" Lee asked with his brows furrowed. The thing he didn't right now was that crossbow redneck to be lowering the group's morale, with as low as it was already.
"I mean, just look at all the places we've been." Daryl hissed, shuffling his feet in the gravel road. "The dairy, the estates…they were all a pipe dream. Who tells you that the CDC will be any better?"
"It's the only place we can go." Rick riposted, placing his hands on his hips and narrowing his crow-feet eyelids. "We have to go somewhere we'll be safe, someplace that can find a cure. CDC's the perfect place. I don't suppose you got any better ideas?"
Daryl just decreased his head and snorted, kicking the ground discreetly. "Well, any objections?" Lee enquired, eyeing all of the people standing in front of him. Nobody pronounced a word. "Well…I guess we shouldn't waste any time. Into the RV."
"I'll stay on the roof." Carley said from above the vehicle. "It's already crowded as hell down there."
"Are you sure?" Lee certified. "If we have to brake sudden or take a quick curve, it might balance you off."
"I'm sure that I'll hold."
"Alright, then. Everybody, let's get to the CDC." Rick commanded.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. In this chapter, I tried to give more spotlight for a few of the characters that were in the background, even if it was just one line or one action, so this time you can't say a certain character wasn't accounted for! See y'all next time.