The stiff, cool autumn air hung over them like a blanket as lifeless grey clouds blocked out the sun. The harsh temperature, and the deaths from the other night sent chills down Dominic's spine as he zipped up his black hoodie and slumped into his seat atop the RV. The sniper rifle laid uncomfortably in his lap, its presence almost begging him to kill again. His mind kept playing the events from a week ago over and over, only furthering him down the path to insanity with each passing second.
Clementine sat silently next to him, fixing the creases in her blouse before returning her golden eyes to the tree line beyond the walls of their home. The branches drifting softly in the low breeze, waving at each other, like old friends passing each other by.
So much had happened in such a short span of time, her innocent mind could hardly comprehend them all. Her thoughts synchronized with her protector's, the horrific sight of Dominic murdering that man at the farm haunting her still, and with how much free time she had, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Dominic?" She broke the silence between the two, mentally kicking herself over the question she was about to ask.
"Yeah Clem?" He answered with a heavy breath, his tired blue eyes flitting over to her.
"That man you killed at the farm…" she started, lowering her eyes as she found herself choking on her words.
"What about him?" His eyes and tone grew serious as his grip on the rifle tightened, the mere mention driving chills across his body.
She gulped down the lump forming in her throat. "You said that you did that to him to protect us, and that he deserved it… but did you enjoy it?"
He sighed as he leaned the rifle against his lawn chair, turning back to look at her, her beady eyes back on him. "You shouldn't be thinking about things like that, Clem."
"S-sorry," she stuttered, feeling as if she crossed the line with her question. "It's just… you scared me really badly."
"And I'm sorry that you had to see it…" he trailed off as his eyes returned to the tree line, watching the limbs dance freely in the sun as a tiny lump climbed into his throat. "You should never enjoy killing, no matter what. I didn't want to kill anyone, but sometimes you're left with no choice. It was either him or us, and I'd choose us any day." He took in a deep breath as he turned to look her in the eye. "But no, Clem… I didn't enjoy killing him. Yes, he did some pretty bad things, but that doesn't make killing the right choice. That doesn't justify the act. There's always a better solution for the situation, but the problem is finding it. This world just makes you do the most eff'd up things to survive, and I don't want to see you have to go through all of that. I don't want you to become a killer too."
"Hey Dom!" A deep baritone voice echoed off the walls of the motel as Dominic turned to see Lee and Kenny peering back up at him, causing the boy to wipe the tears from his eyes. "You ready for that run yet?"
"Yeah, I'm coming!" Dominic returned before slouching back into his chair for a brief second. After a deep breath, he finally worked up the courage to stand up, and turned back to Clementine, reaching out his hand to help her up. "Whatever happens, Clem, I'll be there to make sure you don't have to make that same choice."
The explosion left a constant ringing in Dominic's ears as he hugged the ground. Half of his face froze against the cement and snow, while his other cheek burned from the searing heat of the flames engulfing Zone 2 in a blaze of glory; even from six hundred feet away the flames felt like touching the surface of the sun, and only the scorched brick of the house they hid behind saved them from being cooked alive. The world stopped for the briefest of seconds, as if the explosion seemed to stop the Earth's rotation and time itself.
Lying next to him in the snow, Molly couldn't hold in the pain as blood seeped through Dominic's jacket, which was now wrapped tightly around the bullet wound on her leg. No words were spoken between them as Dominic pushed himself to his feet and pulled her up, wrapping her arm around him. Steve sat in the snow with a blank look on his face, almost emotionless as the screams of dying bandits continued to pierce the air, and the harsh flicker of flames glowed on the opposite wall in front of them. He hardly noticed when Dominic reached out to help him up, his body numb and only following the motions, like some sort of robot, as he wrapped Molly's other arm around him. The ocean of noise was replaced by the sounds of war, at least, what Steve imagined them to sound like. The sounds of roaring flames and what he could only distinguish as screaming and gunshots bled into his ear canals, his body almost too far gone to react physically to the torture. As they stumbled into the empty street, he looked back into the flames, watching as countless zombies continued their march through the flames, only to inevitably fall to the ground, their rotten skin peeling off into the dirt, and brains turned into nothing but goop from the searing heat. Most of the herd however had been turned into a layer of blood, melted skin, and gore smeared all over the ground and walls of the surrounding buildings. It was like nothing any of them have ever seen.
After about five minutes of stumbling through the streets, the wind picked up to the strength of a howling gale. Thick flakes of snow blew into their faces, sending a cool mix of frozen air against their cheeks, yet the burning sensation of a roaring flame continued kissing their backs. A snowstorm was coming in, and at least the flames brought them some warmth on their backs, but with the severe intensity of the fire, it was hard to choose which was more comforting: death by a melting in fire, or frozen in ice.
After a minute of stumbling forward aimlessly, a lone walker turned in their direction, growling as it wobbled towards them. It tripped over a dying hedge in front of a white Victorian-style home with Greek lettering stapled above the greying grandiose entrance as Dominic let go of Molly, who leaned against Steve while she tried to hobble forward on her uninjured leg. Without a word, Dominic rushed over to the toppled cadaver, pulling out his machete before swinging the blade down on its head with as much strength as he could muster. It took a few swings to finally break through the walker's skull, leaving blood and brain matter smeared all over the concrete sidewalk as Dominic returned to his friends, who remained as silent as he was. The snow was picking up now, and the further they got from the inferno, the colder the air got.
"Dominic, I don't think she's going to make it all the way back to camp," Steve's voice was soft, almost somber, as Dominic turned to gaze at them before looking back at the raging inferno now hidden behind a cluster of trees and dilapidated homes. The fire continued to blaze into the night at an increasing rate, consuming anything in its path. If the wind picked up, it's possible half the city could be burned with Zone 2. But they couldn't think about that now, not with Molly's blood starting to leak underneath the jacket and down her leg.
"I'll be fine," Molly breathed, her rampant panting and pained gasps with each step indicating that she, in fact, was not fine. Dominic sighed as he sheathed his machete. She was going to be stubborn about it, but Steve was right.
After a brief second, he let out the breath he was holding in. "No, he's right. We need to take care of you before you end up bleeding out on the road." His voice sounded cold, even to him, as his eyes examined their surroundings for some sort of safe haven in the darkness, but the snow obscured most of the street ahead, so his attention returned to the stark-white Victorian villa on their left.
The windows were boarded up, leaving no way for Dominic to see inside. The first thought that popped into his head was that it must've been a fraternity house for the university, given the Greek lettering above the porch. The fact that the windows were blockaded made it both an interesting choice to stay for the evening and, sadly, meant it was probably locked up tight. Although the street ahead didn't seem to have any better choices waiting for them, so he immediately changed course as his grip on his blade tightened. "There." He finally spoke in a neutral tone.
His two friends exchanged glances before following their Dominic into the courtyard of the villa. As they approached the mansion, Steve observed Dominic with a critical eye. His friend had changed alright; the once timid, boring man was a completely different person now. His eyes were hardened, like a soldier who's seen way too many wars. His body was noticeably thinner, where flab had been replaced by muscle, although his physique was still that of a track athlete rather than a bodybuilder. He carried himself like a man on a mission, each step deliberate, and shoulders raised high as his head scanned their surroundings, always on alert. His glasses were gone too, which threw off Steve more than anything else. Dominic always had those things on, so it was like they became a part of his face, his image. Despite knowing each other better than they knew themselves, Steve could barely see the Dominic he knew from before. It was obvious that he had to do some shit Steve would think twice about doing, and based on the man's indifference to the Hunters, he had his fair share of run-ins with bandits and cannibals; he didn't even want to know how many people Dominic had to kill to get here, based on the way he handled the shitshow back in Zone 2.
The red bricks beneath their feet were covered in a fresh layer of snow, creating a strange pattern of maroon and white as they stepped towards their abode for the evening. Steve nearly tripped as his foot found a hole in the pattern, where a brick had crumbled or went missing long ago. The porch stood in front of them, four massive marble columns holding the overhang two stories up. The door was reminiscent of the golden age of Southern culture, it's dark wood a stark contrast to the white paint of the villa. Above the entrance, a balcony extended out, the white fence bordering the extension connecting to the two front columns. Two windows flanked the door to the balcony. Two chimneys extended into the sky on either side of the villa, creating a perfect symmetry with the three grandiose windows of the master bedroom on the third floor. Several derelict vehicles were parked in the driveway on their left, torn apart by scavengers for spare parts. Steve took a wary look behind them, the glow of the flames in the distance lit up the night sky as the snow waved in the wind, creating a strange flickering effect as the flames reflected off the frozen flakes.
Dominic reached the villa first, hopping up the concrete steps two at a time before moving toward the entrance, his machete at the ready. He turned back to his friends as Steve helped Molly lean against the nearest column before returning Dominic's gaze.
"Watch the street for walkers," Dominic hissed, his attention returning to the large door in front of him. He raised the machete to bang its hilt against the wood; if there were walkers inside, they'd know. From behind him, he could hear Steve scoff. Molly rolled her eyes as she predicted the argument to come.
"Why don't you keep an eye out for walkers instead? I never agreed to you telling me what to do, mate." The Brit muttered as he stared at his friend's back, who turned to glare at him with a murderous gaze.
"Who's the one here with a machete?" Dominic growled as Steve scratched at his arm nervously. No wonder Molly likes him, they're both cunts.
He let out another scoff as he turned to watch the street beyond the once manicured courtyard with a grumble, his eyes barely able to make out the thoroughfare through the curtains of snow coming down as the wind whipped the flakes into his face. "Just wait until I find a bigger sword, then we'll see who has the biggest dick."
Dominic banged the hilt against the door three times, signaling the end of Steve's retorts as the noise reverberated into the air and the villa. The street remained silent, other than the intense crackling of the inferno in the distance and the howling wind. A solid two minutes passed before Dominic decided that the house was clear; a second later, he twisted the doorknob, but found himself hardly surprised that it didn't budge. Behind him, Molly slowly slid down to the floor, the pain in her leg becoming too much to bear while standing.
She let out a soft sigh as she gazed up at Dominic, who slammed his hand against the door in defeat. "It's locked, isn't it?"
"Yup," he replied with an aggravated sigh, kicking the floorboards as he turned back to his exhausted group. "I'll have to find another way in. Maybe there's a back door or a broken window. Hell, we could even try reaching for that balcony. Not like we've got much options beyond that anyway." He let the options hang in the air for a second before he continued in a neutral tone. "Alright, you two stay here, hopefully I can find a way to unlock the door."
"Well, hurry the fuck up then," Steve retorted as he gripped his shotgun tighter, the tension in the air and the thought that more walkers would show up agitating the man. "We don't have all night."
Dominic let out an annoyed sigh as he pushed past Steve. The more his friend spoke, the more he remembered how much he hated him. Their friendship had always been shaky at best, on the verge of coming apart at the seams with every moment. They were more alike than they cared to admit, always so stubborn and making rude remarks to each other. The only reason they became friends was because of video games, and that friendship nearly ended multiple times because of those said video games. Nowadays, they didn't have that luxury, and Dominic wasn't willing to let Steve try to boss him around. After all, he was the one who survived on his own with only a child and a woman for company, albeit that woman was better at surviving that he was, but what has Steve done? Sit around on his ass while the military most likely took care of him. He just wasn't prepared for the world beyond the walls of UGA, no matter how much the Brit declared otherwise.
Dominic peered into the cars as he passed by; there was two of them in the driveway: one was a 2002 Nissan Altima, its windows were broken, and the innards of the car was stripped bare, even the wheels were missing from the frame. The second car, a 2002 Toyota Highlander, shared the same fate. A cadaver was left haphazardly strewn in the space between the two vehicles, most of its body cut into small pieces, like some sort of cannibalistic sushi. He turned away, his nose scrunching, and side-stepped around the mess.
The backyard was even more frightening than the driveway. Trees bordered the grassy lot, encircling the back patio and badminton net, left half set up as its owner abandoned it. The remnants of a campfire stood in the center of the yard, where five more bodies surrounded it in a circle. The bodies were mostly rotted away as months of decay and adverse weather conditions accelerated their decomposition. Each body had a large, gaping hole where their forehead used to be. One body, a larger male based on the amount of muscle tissue still left over, held a revolver in his hands. Dominic walked over, stepping over the cadavers as if they would suddenly reanimate underneath him, and ripped the pistol out of the large man's hand. He flicked open the chamber as he examined the blackened body with mild interest; only one out of six bullets remained. Five guys, five bullets. It became clear what had happened as Dominic stood back up.
The wind continued to howl at a sharp tone, whistling through the trees to create an eerie aura straight from a horror movie. He stashed the pistol in his back pocket as he said the only thing that came to his mind. "Poor bastards."
His eyes returned to the patio, where several torn-up lawn chairs stood side by side, end tables placed in between each one. Half-empty bottles of beer and liquor were everywhere, some of them toppled to the ground, where they rolled across the polished wood, only to end up knocking into the fence post or the matte black grill. The back door was left wide open, the interior shrouded in darkness as Dominic fished out his flashlight from his backpack.
The door led into the kitchen, where even more bottles of alcohol were left behind, however most appeared to be empty. To his right, he could make out the living room: a three-seater couch and a couple of bean bags situated around a large, widescreen Box TV. It was one of the TVs that probably weighed as much as a car, Dominic would guess. A PlayStation 2 was laid on a TV tray next to the big screen. He found himself wishing the place still had power, just for the chance to play some games again. A common room dominated the front right of the house, where several desks were situated with old-fashioned PCs on them. The rest of the first floor appeared to be two bedrooms and a bathroom. Not a single noise or creak reached his ears as he stepped into the foyer, where a set of stairs ran alongside the left wall, leading up to, presumably, more bedrooms. He held the flashlight with his teeth as he unlocked the door, machete still clutched tightly in his hand, just in case anything jumped out at him. The first thing to greet him as he opened the door was Steve's smug face.
"What took you so long?"
"Shush," Dominic deadpanned as he motioned them inside. He held his hands out in the air, as if welcoming them to an apartment for rent. "Welcome to Casa del Frat Boy. PlayStation and dial-up porn will be on your left, cum-stained beds and porn magazines will be on your right."
Steve stifled a laugh as Dominic closed the door behind them, the remaining light from the inferno disappearing, leaving them in semi-darkness. "He thinks he's a comedian."
The young girl's golden eyes lingered on the flames in the distance; the fog-like veil of snow reflected the light into the city like an eerie glow, lighting up the night sky. Her hand was pressed against the ice-cold window, as if yearning to break free and find her friends lost in this city of the dead. She couldn't help but worry that her protectors got caught in the explosion, and she wasn't ready to be alone, lost in this world with only strangers for company. A part of her was still angry at Dominic for the things he said that morning, but she didn't want to see him dead. She realized that the things he's done was to protect her, even if that meant he had to keep secrets from her. And Molly, well, she was almost like the sister she never had. If they were gone, she didn't know what to do. That fear kept her eyes fixated on the aftermath of the explosion, her heart beating faster as the fear flowed through her tiny body.
She pulled away from the window as a hand gently grabbed her shoulder, turning her head to gaze up at her newfound friend, Chloe, who returned her gaze with a soft smile and a look of sympathy.
"I'm sure they're fine, Clem. They both seemed tough as nails," Chloe tried to comfort the little girl, which made a small smile twitch on Clementine's lips.
"They are," she whispered, her anxious mind still worrying about her friends despite Chloe's attempt to alleviate her fears, forcing the small smile away as they took over her thoughts.
"So, stop worrying then," The young woman smiled at the little girl as she motioned for Clementine to rejoin her at the game of checkers they had been playing in the middle of a classroom, which had been turned into a common room. As they sat down at the table, Chloe spoke once more. "First time I saw Dominic, he was covered in blood, with a crazed yet determined look in his eyes. He looked like he'd been through hell and back, just to make sure you survived. And Molly looked like the type of woman who could take on an army all by herself. I don't think an explosion could stop them from getting back to you." She finished as she stretched in her seat, trying to get comfortable in the plastic piece of crap, before reaching out her hand and moving one of her pieces on the board.
Clementine's eyes fell to the checkered board as a wave of sadness washed over her. She bit back her tongue as she tried to find the words she wanted to say. After a minute of silence, she let out a soft breath. "A year ago, back in Savannah, my friend Lee and our group went looking for me after a strange man kidnapped me. Dominic found me, then Molly found us, but the rest of the group… Lee…" she sniffled. "We never saw them again. They could be dead, and it's all my fault." She breathed in before her fingers instinctively touched the healing wound on her abdomen. "Then we ended up here because of me, and Dominic left on that run because of me, so if they're dead-"
"You can't blame yourself for everything," Chloe lectured, her eyes flitting over to the little girl as she pondered her next move for a second, before reaching out her tiny arm and moving a piece. "These are situations that're out of your control. I know that after a while, it becomes a habit… blaming yourself… and you lash out at your friends because you hate yourself for the things you think you caused, and you'll think no one can help you, and the world is nothing but shit." She let out a long sigh as she avoided Clementine's gaze. "My dad died in a car crash when I was fourteen… I blamed it on myself for years, even hated myself for it. I ended up dropping out of school, dyeing my hair, and going full-on rebel when I was eighteen. I just wanted to say 'fuck the world' and try to forget the fact that I was still grieving and blaming myself for my father's death." She grabbed one of her captured pieces in her hand, twirling it with her fingers, before placing it back down and moving another one of her pieces still on the board, capturing another one of Clementine's pieces in the process. "Eventually, you need to find a way to forgive yourself, and realize that you were never the one to blame to begin with." She returned her gaze to the young girl, who peered up at her with sad, yet hopeful eyes. "So, promise me you'll try, okay?"
"I'll try," Clementine promised, her voice shaky as she finally took her turn, moving one of her pieces to capture one of Chloe's, and then another. The older woman smiled as Clementine placed the captured pieces in her pile.
"Good," she let out a hasty breath. "You about ready for dinner? I'm starved." She asked in a light tone, much happier than it had been when the conversation started.
Clementine grinned as she held a hand to her rumbling stomach. "Yes, please."
The soft rustle of leaves filled the air as Dominic, Molly, and Clementine marched through the forest aimlessly. The sounds of nature replaced the ever-present roar of the undead near the cities, leaving the ragtag group feeling deaf as the chirping of birds and the crinkle of leaves being crushed under their feet washed over them softly like a gentle breeze. That peaceful feeling was thwarted by the rumbling of their stomachs however. What little food they had left were rationed to keep them going, along with the couple bottles of water still filled to the brim. They needed to find some supplies soon or else they weren't going to make it.
A soft groan reached their ears as Molly unsheathed her pickaxe. As they approached a small inclination, the trees curving upwards with the hill, the walker in question came into view. It lay stuck against the base of a tree, moss and roots growing on and around its rotting legs. Molly quickly stepped toward it as its growls grew louder and more excited. Dominic grabbed a hold of Clementine's shoulder as Molly sent her weapon barreling straight into the walker's brain with a sickening thunk. She returned to the group without a word, the two adults sharing a look of despair as the reality of their situation weighed down upon them. They were going to die in this forsaken Georgian forest; their supply of food and water will run out, and that'll be it for them. Game over.
The somber atmosphere within the group continued for several minutes. It was obvious to even Clementine that this was the end for them. She just wished she could've done something to help prevent it, but what could she do? She was nine years old in a world of the dead. They didn't even smile as a small cabin appeared in the distance, most of the property obscured by trees and brush. As they drew closer, they could see the building was flanked by a metal shed on one side, and a small, rickety car park on the other. A SUV sat silently underneath the metal roof, not a single speck of dust on its pristine surface.
Dominic's eyes fixed themselves on the vehicle as Molly touched his arm with her hand. "We should go, Dominic."
"No," he breathed, "if there's somebody here, they could have food," his voice was barely a whisper as his eyes hardened.
"What are you suggesting? Kill them for it?"
He let out a deep breath as he pulled out the Stranger's revolver. "If it comes to that."
Molly let out a hiss of pain as Dominic helped her lay on the worn-out couch in front of the TV. The silence between the two was becoming awkward, but neither party felt like saying anything as Steve explored the fraternity's ground floor. Dominic's eyes didn't leave Molly's wound on her leg as Steve's voice called from the kitchen.
"Anything out back?"
Dominic pulled away from Molly as he hissed out to his friend. "I wouldn't look out there if-"
"Don't tell me what to do…" Steve's voice trailed off as the soft noise of the door clicking resounded in the air. "What the fuck?!"
Dominic failed to hold back his laughter as he slumped into a bean bag next to the couch, rubbing his temple gingerly with a smile. "I told you not to look."
His friend returned to the living room with a horrified look on his face. "How are you so nonchalant about this?!"
Dominic merely shrugged as he stretched his muscles. "Shit happens, I guess."
"Still as crazy as ever I see," Steve sighed before walking off, his footsteps resounding in the air as he went upstairs to explore some more. The room fell into yet another deathly silence as the two survivors listened to their friend's exploration upstairs.
Molly let out a short laugh between pained grunts. "I really don't know how you two are friends."
Dominic smiled as he sagged deeper into the recesses of the bean bag. "Me neither," he replied with a laugh. "We've always had a kind of love/hate friendship ever since we've met. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he's always been a good friend, nonetheless." He sighed as he pushed himself back to his feet. "I'll be right back, gonna try to see if I can find something to disinfect that wound, and hopefully find some gauze while I'm at it."
"You really expect to find gauze in a frat house?" She gazed toward him with a bemused smile.
"I'm sure these guys did some pretty dangerous shit after a night of drinkin', so yeah, I have a hunch."
"Oh, I'm sure," she deadpanned as she watched him leave. The smile on his face seemed to be permanently etched into his skin; it was a feeling he hadn't felt in what felt like years. He was glad to be reunited with Molly again and couldn't wait to see Clementine again in the morning. He felt almost happy, which felt so alien to him that he could hardly identify that it was happiness. The Hunters were gone; the massive herd was mostly gone; the city would be almost safe now, and maybe with Tobias gone, they could live at UGA for a while, rest up before moving on again. That vision with Clem's radio had to mean something, and if Lee and the others were still out there, he had to find them again, no matter the cost. Of course, a part of him deep down wondered if Wolffe and the soldiers at UGA knew what Tobias had been doing, but that was a river he'd cross some other time, just like the thoughts of finding Lee again. For now, they were alive, and despite his friend's dickishness, he was glad to see Steve again. It was like running into an old friend at the store, after so long with no contact. But it did raise some questions in his mind: if Steve was in this world, was Josh here too? Was there something about their old apartment that transported them to this world? Or was it Dominic's newfound powers? Did he somehow whisk them away to this world, or were Steve and Josh Travelers too? So many questions burned in his mind that he simply didn't have an answer to.
These questions continued to flash through his mind as he opened the refrigerator in the kitchen, holding his nose with his free hand as the rotten smell of months old food filled his nostrils. There were packages of lunch meat, various types of fruits and vegetables; one of the boys must've been on a health kick; boxes of Oreos and cookies, and an entire shelf filled with bottles of alcohol. He grabbed a large bottle filled with a clear liquid in it, reading the label as he weighed it in his hands. Absolut Vodka. This'll do. He closed the fridge as quickly as he could, taking in a deep breath as he withdrew from the box of death. He set the bottle down on the granite island behind him before moving on to the bathroom situated underneath the stairs.
The darkness within forced him to switch on his flashlight once more; at the rate he was having to use the damn thing, he'd need new batteries soon. Putting the flashlight between his teeth, he pulled open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, barely catching a glimpse of the splotches of blood on his face from killing Tobias. He merely wiped them off with a towel sitting above the toilet before returning his attention to the medicine cabinet. The cabinet held items he was expecting from a frat house: ibuprofen and naproxen for headaches, some omeprazole, and (as his smiled widened on his face) a box of gauze. Jackpot. He returned to the living room with his findings, sitting down on the wooden coffee table placed in front of the couch Molly reclined on.
"Find what you're looking for, Doctor Dom?" Molly deadpanned as Dominic laughed, pulling out the roll of gauze and ripping off a small strip before opening the bottle of vodka. He unwrapped the jacket from around her ankle as he smiled once more.
"Just like that time in the forest huh?" Dominic offered as he held the strip of gauze to the bottle of alcohol, soaking it in the foul-smelling liquid.
"Hey, that was entirely your fault," she reminded him.
"Should've known the guy would pull on us," Dominic laughed as he returned his eyes to the wound, cringing slightly at the sight of the hole, which slowly seeped out blood from deep within the meat and bone. "We needed the food anyway," he looked back up at her, soaked gauze in hand, as she waved her hand in the air to dismiss his next statement.
"Yeah, yeah, it's going to hurt like a bitch, I know," she braced herself as he applied pressure to the wound with the soaked cloth, gasping with pain as her nerves sparked with an unbearable pain. "Fuck sake, do you have to push on it so hard?!"
"Probably not," Dominic mused with a smile as he continued to rub the gauze on the exit wound on the other side of her ankle. She definitely got lucky, the bullet didn't pierce her bones, although she probably wouldn't be able to walk without a limp in her step for months, if not years to come.
Her cries of pain softened as Dominic wrapped fresh gauze around her ankle, going around her leg several times before ripping off the roll with his teeth. He fished out a roll of tape from his backpack to secure the cloth down before finally taking in a deep breath. The tension in the air returned as he sat back on the coffee table, returning the roll of gauze to its box and holding the bottle of vodka in his hands, slowly spinning it in his hands without much thought.
His thoughts instead focused on the last moments he spent with Molly just before going out on that run with Tobias, and what he did. She didn't seem to be staring at him with a disgusted look, which he took as a good sign, but the fact they weren't talking about it put him on edge when he was around her. It's as if it almost never happened, but it obviously did, and it showed through the fidgeting of their arms when around each other and the awkward silences that took over the cadence as they tried to find something to say. Sometimes he couldn't think of anything to say at all, and he just sat there twiddling his thumbs as Steve's footsteps upstairs echoed above them. So far, the man hadn't come across anything, at least not that Dominic could hear, which allowed him to relax a little bit. Knowing that they were safe for the time being was always a calming feeling.
"So, uh," Molly's voice sounded almost as awkward as Dominic felt. "So, what's the plan tomorrow then? Head back to UGA?"
"Yeah," He sighed, rubbing his legs as they ached with a dull pain. "I think we've earned a bit of a rest for a while, after everything we've been through today."
"Hell of a fucking day alright," she muttered as she shifted into a more comfortable position on the couch. "Remind me to never let you go out on runs ever again."
He let out a short laugh. "Yeah, good luck with that. Somebody's gotta do all the heavy lifting, and I don't trust Steve to do it."
"You don't have to do it all alone, Dominic," she stated flatly as she stared up at him. "I'm not some preppy girl who can't even lift a finger for anything but to have her fingernails manicured. Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm stronger than you."
"Gee, thanks," he muttered with a smile as she continued.
"You have this problem with wanting to do everything yourself. You want to lead, you want to find us food, water, shelter. You want to protect us. Seriously Dominic, you can't do everything yourself. That's a one-way ticket to losing your mind," she finished her lecture with a sigh. "That's why I told you to step back, not because I think you can't handle leadership, and not because of the bandit. Frankly, I really didn't care about what you did to that bandit, what irked me was that you did it while Clementine was bleeding out and a stone's throw away from a herd of walkers. I probably would've done the same thing in your shoes but… just let me help you, okay? Stop trying to be goddamned Superman."
"Well look at that, Molly's being sentimental now. That's new," he smirked as she let out a soft growl of annoyance.
"Do you want me to kick your ass?"
"Not particularly," he replied, unable to suppress the smile on his face.
"Then fuck off with your 'being sentimental' shit," she shot back with a smile just as wide as his. The silence once again returned as Dominic pushed himself off the coffee table and sat at the free end of the couch, relaxing into the soft leather as the fatigue started to wear on him. He picked up the bottle from the table again, his eyes remaining on the liquid before he uncapped the bottle again, sipping some unconsciously. He could hear Molly's laugh as he gagged, the strong taste of ethanol making his nose crinkle as he gulped the foul liquid down, coughing violently for a moment.
"You're not good with alcohol, are you?" She roared with laughter as she watched him cough like a dying man. He sent a glare in her direction before gulping down another swig, joining her in a chorus of laughter.
"One time, my sister made me this big drink for New Years," He started, setting the bottle down between his legs as he tapped the lid. "And I'm talking big. She filled it like two-thirds full of vodka and poured in some Gatorade with it. It tasted like I was drinking rubbing alcohol. To say the least, it took a while for me to finish the damn thing, but boy, did that make playing Alien: Isolation fun."
"Isn't that the horror movie franchise?" She asked as he passed her the bottle, taking a swig for herself without missing a beat.
"Yeah, this was a pretty new game at the time. Scared the shit out of me even without the alcohol. Since then, I haven't really had much love for alcohol. But, hell, we survived a goddamn explosion, might as well celebrate a little," he took the bottle as she reached it out to him. "At least we get to enjoy it before Steve finds it. Fuckin' thing will be gone before we even get a chance to get another swig."
"Did I hear the word 'alcohol'?" Steve called from the stairs as he ran down them two at a time.
"Told you," Dominic muttered as he gulped down a big swig before reaching out the bottle to Steve. "Save some for us at least."
He stared down at the bottle. "You're just drinking straight up vodka? Jesus Christ, Dominic."
"Well, go check out the fridge and see if there's anything else to mix it with then," Dominic muttered with a faint smile. The British man immediately walked off to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Dominic laughed as he heard the man wretch in horror at the smell.
"Fuck sake, Dominic! This isn't funny!" Steve growled, his voice nasally as he held his nose.
Dominic smiled at Molly as he relaxed back into the cushions, resting his hands behind his back as he deadpanned. "At least we've got him around for entertainment."
"Fuck you, Dominic," Steve sighed as he returned to the living room with a bottle of Gatorade that he found in the back of the fridge. Dominic and Molly exchanged a glance as the man placed three glasses on the table, pouring the vodka into each before pouring some of the Gatorade in. He slumped into the bean bag next to the couch as Dominic reached out for two of the glasses and handed one to Molly. Steve stared at the glass in his hand with a quizzical look before sighing. "It's been awhile since I've had a drink," he muttered, looking up at Steve with an annoyed gaze. "Why the fuck did I let you convince me to come to this country?"
"Hey, it was your idea," Dominic retorted as he sipped on the drink, gagging a little at the taste of old Gatorade mixed in with the vodka.
"I guess we're both terrible at coming up with good ideas," The Brit mumbled before downing the whole drink in one gulp. "I still can't get over the fact you wanted to blow up a fucking school just to kill bandits. I never expected you to be the terrorist type."
"It's only terrorism if you're doing it without justification," Dominic shot back as he spun the glass in his hands, staring at it blankly.
"Tell that to Al-Qaeda," Steve laughed before pouring himself another cupful.
Dominic held back a snort as he sipped on his drink. "You're making me wonder what happened to them after all of this shit went down. Think they're still trying to terrorize western civilization?"
Steve shrugged. "With society crumbling down like a stack of cards, I doubt they can even get out of their country, let alone across the pond."
"I kind of feel bad for the soldiers stuck in Iraq when this shit went down. It was 2003 when it all started up, so I think we were in full-scale attack mode on them at the time," Dominic mused as he set down the glass.
"God, you two are bringing back flashbacks," Molly muttered as she gulped down the rest of her drink, glaring at them for talking about something so random and pointless.
"Whoa wait, 2003? Seriously? You're kidding right?" Steve's eyes grew in size as he spoke.
"Nope, we're back in time," Dominic confirmed as he poured himself another glass. "Don't know how, don't know why. Still trying to figure it all out."
"You're full of shit," Steve muttered.
"No, he's right," Molly interrupted.
"Fucking hell," The Brit breathed as he stared down at the cup in his hands. "On top of a zombie apocalypse, we're back in time. Great. It's fucking Doctor Who all over again."
The wind howled with intense ferocity as the snowstorm outside continued to get worse. The temperature in the house dropped every couple of minutes, to the point they were starting to shiver in the half-darkness. The bottle of vodka was nearly half empty now, but as the conversation ended, the drinking stopped. The awkward silences were starting to make Dominic feel uncomfortable. Perhaps that, along with the alcohol in his system, was why he broke the silence with a single phrase, uttered almost inaudibly over the howling gales.
"I killed Tobias."
"You what?" Steve and Molly nearly shouted in sync as they turned to look at him. He had a hard, distant stare on his face as he set down the glass on the coffee table in front of him.
"You dense motherfucker!" Steve shouted as he stood up, his movements slowed and swaying compared to what they once were. "Why the fuck did you do that?! If Wolffe finds out-!"
"Shut your goddamn mouth, Steve," Dominic snapped as he stared up at his friend with a death glare that froze his friend to stone, rising to meet Steve's gaze. "You say I'm dense, but apparently I'm the sanest, smartest motherfucker left in this goddamn world." He pointed his finger at Steve as he continued his rant. "You think I killed him for my amusement?! That motherfucker gave people away as food! Children! For fuck sake, am I the only one with a heart?! You see a fucker give children away to cannibals, you fucking KILL that son of a bitch! It ain't that hard to understand, even for you! I just felt that you guys deserved to know!"
"How do you even know he did that?!" Steve roared incredulously. "Did he tell you or was it those bastards?!"
"Don't pull the 'not enough evidence' card!" Dominic couldn't hold it back anymore, he took a step towards Steve, fists clenched. "I SAW the heads of the people he gave away; the fact UGA is still standing means it HAD to be someone on the inside. Even if Simmons didn't tell me it was Tobias, I still would've figured it out! Hell, I bet the whole fucking squad there knew about it." He took in a deep breath as Steve's eyes narrowed, not believing a word his friend was saying.
"They think they can get away with it, because they're soldiers, but guess fucking what? The government doesn't exist anymore, they're just survivors now. They're NOT above us. So yes, Steve, I fucking killed Tobias, and if Wolffe knew about it, I'll kill him too. And if you don't agree with that, then there's the door. Bye."
The silence went from awkward to suffocating as Steve merely huffed, turning to look at Molly, who stared back at them with surprise with how quickly the merry conversations turned into a shouting match. "What about you? You think your boyfriend did the right thing?!"
"Don't you start yelling at me," Molly growled as she sat up, her leg still feeling as if it was on fire as her movements forced the wound to scrape against the leather couch. "If Tobias really was giving people away as food, then he deserved it."
"Hah, figures. You start fucking and suddenly all morality is thrown out the window," Steve pushed away from Dominic, stomping towards the foyer and up the stairs.
Dominic didn't move as he watched his friend go. He didn't care if Steve didn't agree with him, he knew what he did was the right thing. Steve would just have to get over it. He turned back to Molly with a sigh as she gazed up at him.
"You really do have a way of pissing people off, don't you?"
"Did you really mean it?" Dominic mumbled as he slumped back onto the couch, his eyes going back to her as she bit her lip.
"I think you did the right thing, although maybe your execution leaves a little bit to be desired. Let me guess," she sighed. "You needed him for the bombs, so you kept him alive just to make sure the Hunters couldn't come after us?"
"Yeah." The sighs started to feel like routine as he laid his head in the palms of his hands. "I did what I thought would get us out of there alive. He couldn't come with us, not after what he did. I didn't want him around Clementine. If he was so willing to trade his morals for survival, then he deserved worse than a bullet."
The world stopped around him as the silence started to feel like a blessing rather than a curse. He hardly noticed when Molly put her arm around him, or the sound of her voice as she tried to calm him down. He just wanted this night to be over, and for the first time in a long time, he felt himself slip away into himself, his arms wrapped around his knees as he continued to stare at the bottle sitting on the table in front of him. He didn't even know when his eyelids shut, or the sudden passage of time as he laid his head against the pillow leaning on the armrest of the couch. Perhaps it was for the best that way.
