Mother's Day
On this day, one that began like most others, Michonne sprinted down Franklin Street gripping onto her stomach securely to keep it from bouncing while she ran. The sun was setting and the wind continued to blow as she looked up and down the street. She studied each house for evidence that Carl and Holly might be inside.
Michonne was an expert at compartmentalizing her thoughts and feelings but in this moment, her head was spinning. As she was searching for one child with another child growing within her, her mind turned towards thoughts of Andre.
She was in a different place now, with different people and Michonne herself was not the same person she was two years earlier. But for some reason she couldn't explain, the sickening and uncertain feeling of this day was ominously familiar. It felt just like the worst day of her life – the day she lost Andre.
She could hear Andre. Despite how far away he was, his cries were as recognizable to her as her own voice. Michonne ran faster than she'd ever run before. She could feel the vibration of her sword shaking back and forth in her hand as she sprinted towards her son. She was close enough to the refugee camp that the fallen chain link fence was visible. Despite her fleet footed motion, her legs felt heavy like lead. Her mind felt as if she were running in a nightmare. But she wasn't. You can't smell smoke and rotting flesh in a nightmare.
The dead were in front of her. She swung her sword as swiftly as she ran taking three walkers down at once. More came at her. Eight of them though they were all one blur. Filled with fiery adrenaline she took them down in seconds moving her body arms and sword together with power and ease. She dispatched more walkers without slowing down her sprint towards Andre. She quickly stepped over the collapsed fence and frantically followed Andre's screams. He wasn't where their tent was pitched. Mike and Terri were nowhere to be seen either.
Why did she leave? How could she have left her boy? Did she really think anyone, even his own father, would protect him with the mother-bear instincts she had? Up until this point in the apocalypse, she felt powerful. She felt in control. While the world crumbled around her, she had risen up. While everyone else around her was terrified, including her family, she was calm, level-headed, brave and unafraid. It was as if she was built for this world. It surprised even her how well she had adapted.
But when Michonne looked at the dead woman eating her baby, she nearly fainted. It felt like everything, the trees, the sky, the immediate and agonizing grief she felt, was crushing her. It took everything in her power to run her sword through the skull of the woman cannibalizing her son. She pulled her limp and dead body away from Andre. It was Mrs. Gutierrez, a mother of two young children herself. Michonne had been chatting with her just this morning about how hard it was becoming to keep the kiddos entertained at the camp.
Michonne collapsed to the ground hovering over her boy. "Oh my sweet baby! No! No! What am I supposed to do? God tell me what to do!" she wailed. Tears poured out of her eyes quicker than she could wipe them away.
"Momma, she bite me...it hurts!" Andre cried back in his precious, small voice, barely conscious. Michonne picked him up and cradled him in her arms, unable to control the relentless sobs that had erupted. More than anything, she wanted to hold on to what she knew would be the last few moments she would have with her baby boy, but she couldn't. He was suffering. He had a large bite in his chest and his arm was torn apart. He was rapidly slipping away and blood gushed from his wounds. Michonne couldn't bare his pain any longer.
Michonne calmed herself momentarily and looked into Andre's fluttering eyes. "I'm gonna take you to the doctor and you're gonna be all better, okay baby?" She caressed his bloody face and kissed his tiny lips, "Just close your eyes and go to sleep and when you wake up, you'll be all better. I love you, Andre. I love you so much, my sweet baby!" she cried.
Michonne pulled her knife from her belt and without hesitation, stabbed the sharp blade into the side of his head.
But that was two years ago. She shook the agonizing and useless thoughts from her brain. She threw her doubts aside and kept running. Today she would find Carl and Holly. She would protect herself and her precious baby growing inside. They would get back home.
…..
"Holly, are you in here?" Carl called upstairs. He lost her before they reached the end of Franklin Street but he was almost positive she was in this house. It was her old house. He held his machete steadily in his hand as he ascended the stairs. "Holly!" he called out again. When he reached the top of the staircase, he opened the door to the first bedroom. She was there. She was sitting on her twin bed as far into the corner as she could bring her body. Her thin legs were drawn up to her chest and she was shaking uncontrollably.
Carl dropped his machete on the floor and ran to her side. He sat on her bed and wrapped his arms around her. Holly flinched at his touch. "Are you okay?"
Holly couldn't speak. She heaved as she sobbed and quivered. Carl held her tightly, soothing her until she was finally quieted. "You're safe Holly. You're safe and I'm here. I'm sorry I forced you to go out. I shouldn't have." Holly stared ahead still silent. "Holly, tell me that you're okay."
"It was my mom," she began to cry again. "I was doing okay - I was doing good and then my mom was in front of me...dead."
"Oh Holly...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Carl said holding her even tighter.
"I...I haven't seen her since the beginning and..." she said again barely able to speak through the heaving sobs, "...and then she was there! She was there right in front of me. And then on top of me, trying to kill me! And I got so scared...that I ran. I ran and I ran and I didn't even know where at first and then I just wound up here."
"I'm sure that was hard Holly but you..." but Carl couldn't continue. He wouldn't offer her meaningless platitudes right now. He just kept his arms around her and kissed her forehead.
Holly relaxed in Carl's embrace. Her sobs had become sniffles. "Carl, I'm not made for this world. Sooner or later, I'm going to die. You were right. I'm dangerous because I'm useless."
"That's bullshit!" Carl huffed. "You're alive right now while lots of other people aren't. You've survived this. And I saw you. You took down a bunch of them...and that was just your first time even trying!"
"But then I freaked out and ran and now both of us are in danger."
"No. We'll get back. We'll be okay. We're okay right now." Holly clung to Carl as he glanced around her room. An oversized dollhouse stood to the left of her window. A poster with puppies wearing sunglasses hung on her wall, while stuffed animals were lined up on a bookshelf. He looked down at her blanket. It was covered with flowers and butterflies. Whether the world allowed it or not, Holly was still a child. She hadn't adapted the way Carl had and he wouldn't hold that against her.
"I shouldn't have made you go out the way I did. I should have been more patient. I was a bully and that didn't teach you anything."
"I know why you did it. You want me to be strong. You know that I have to be strong or I'll die. You were right," she said, "it just didn't make it any easier when I was out there." Holly began to quietly cry again, "She's really gone now. I thought in the back of my head that maybe my mom would come back to me alive. I know that's stupid but I hoped for it anyway."
"What happened to her? I mean why did you think she would come back?"
"Maybe two months after it all started, my dad was going into downtown Waycross for some supplies. He said he's be back in a few hours. After a day, he still wasn't back. My mom said she had to go look for him. She said we needed him. I begged her not to go," Holly sobbed, "but she did. She left to go look for him and she never came back. Neither one of them ever came back. My sister and brother died in the very beginning. I knew my dad was dead too. But for some reason I thought my mom might have made it...that she just hadn't made it back to me yet."
Once again, Carl had no words. He knew how he felt after losing his mother. He knew the devastation. He couldn't comfort her with words and instead just kept his loving and protective grasp around her.
Holly gazed at the sky through her old bedroom window as the last sliver of the sun went below the horizon. When she turned her head back, Carl caught her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, intensely. Holly reached her hands around his neck pulling him even nearer. Holly never felt closer or more understood by another person. She never felt more loved. She didn't want the moment to end. She wanted to stay in her bedroom in her house and pretend that the darkness outside didn't exist.
"You're okay now and I'm with you Holly," Carl finally said pulling away. "We have to get back. If we don't hurry, the others will come and look for us and I don't want anyone else to be in danger." The two of them stood up from the bed and walked out of the bedroom.
"Carl," Holly said.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for running after me. I was so scared that I didn't even know what I was doing and I'm grateful you came for me."
Carl grabbed her hand, "I'll always come for you."
…..
"Rick! It's Michonne. Do you copy?" Michonne called into the walkie quietly. There was no answer. The late afternoon sky grew darker while Michonne approached another house. She ran to the door, opened it and called inside loudly, "Carl! Holly!" She called again, and when there was no response, she closed the door and ran to the next house. She didn't have to worry about walkers inside the homes, as all of these houses had been cleared long ago. But in the front yard of the next house, four walkers began to come towards her.
Without hesitation, Michonne whipped her sword through the heads of the two nearest her. Another came from her left. She ran her sword through it's temple. The last walker, a rather large man, crept towards her from behind and grabbed onto her, digging his fingers into the shoulder of her jacket. Michonne spun around. The walker was too close to her for her to use her sword. She dropped it and used both hands to push the dead body away from her. Michonne managed to move the walker's hands off her shoulders but they immediately went down to her protruding belly. Michonne roared as she tried to push it off once again while she kicked it's kneecap repeatedly. The walker's leg finally buckled and it collapsed to the ground. Michonne tried to pull away, but her pregnant body lost it's balance and fell to the ground with the walker's body falling on her, pinning down her feet. Michonne felt a sudden pain in her ankle. The walker crawled on top of her clawing at her legs. She reached for her sword behind her but her hands couldn't find it. Michonne screamed as the walker's mouth moved to her leg.
Michonne saw everything in slow motion. The dark, ominous emotions washed over her again. This was the end and she knew it. In all this time she seldom feared for her own life, only for the lives of her loved ones. Even now, her concern wasn't for herself but the baby inside. She begged God to not let the monster get to her baby. Let it only consume her. She looked towards the walker's face, mouth agape and ready to feed. In the blink of an eye, she saw a machete slicing through its head. Michonne's head fell back to the ground as she panted in relief and exhaustion.
"Michonne are you okay? Are you bit?" Carl asked hysterically as he knelt down next to her.
Michonne looked up at Carl breathlessly, "I think I'm okay...I sprained or twisted my ankle but I don't think I got bit."
"We have to get out of here," Carl said helping her back to her feet.
As Michonne stood up, she studied her surroundings. Dozens of the dead were approaching on more than one side.
"We can outrun them!" she said with certainty. "There's an opening through there," she indicated where they should go with the tip of her sword.
"Let's go then!" Carl yelled. The three began to run back in the direction of the library. Michonne put her left hand on Holly's shoulder. Pregnant and limping, she still ran faster than most people. They were making headway and now out of sight from most of the walkers. They would have had a clear shot but more walkers appeared in front of them.
"It's only a few," Michonne said as she limped towards four of them. She moved her sword through their undead bodies bringing them down quickly. She was about to run forward again when Holly's screams spun her around. Two more walkers tackled Carl. Carl kicked one off while Michonne stabbed one in the skull. Holly smashed her baseball bat into the head of the walker Carl kicked off. Carl hopped to his feet and the three took off again.
As they were running, Michonne felt it. She knew exactly what was happening. She stopped in her tracks and grabbed her stomach with her left hand, still holding tightly to her sword in her right hand. "Oh God! Please no, not right now!" She closed her eyes tightly and let out a loud moan.
"What is it?" Carl asked holding her up. "Is it the baby?"
"Yeah," she winced. "It's a contraction. I just need a second."
"What should we do, Carl?" Holly asked fearfully.
"Stay calm, I think she'll be okay," Carl said but his mind also drifted to another day eerily similar to this one. He distinctively remembered running through the dark and sinister corridors of the prison with his mother and Maggie. His mom going into labor while monsters chased them. It was a cruel coincidence that this was happening to Carl again.
A rare panic came over the ultra cool-headed young man. This wasn't going to end well. They might have to leave Michonne. No, he could never do that. What if he had to cut her open the way Maggie had with his mom? He would do it if he absolutely had to. Could he put her down if she wasn't going to make it? He would do whatever Michonne said. He trusted her.
But it wouldn't come to that. Michonne was strong. Very strong. Carl felt stings of betrayal on his heart as he admitted to himself just how much stronger Michonne was compared to his mother. It was just the truth, plain and simple. His mom, who he loved dearly, couldn't make it in this ugly world, Michonne could...she would. Carl felt his confidence coming back. "You ready to go again?" Carl asked Michonne.
"I'm ready," she said short of breath but with fortitude. As they began to walk swiftly towards home again, they heard Rick's voice, "Michonne! Where are you? Do you copy?" Rick shouted through the walkie.
"Rick..I'm here! We're on Valleyview Lane, two blocks south of 11th Avenue. I have Carl and Holly!"
"I'll be there in thirty seconds with the pick-up. Is everyone okay?"
"We're okay – just hurry! There's lots of walkers around!"
"Just hold on Baby!"
Before the three of them could take even ten more steps, Sasha swerved around the corner in the pick-up truck, tires screeching then halting to a stop in front of them. Rick jumped out of the front passenger seat and ran towards Michonne. Morgan, Abraham, Rosita and Lee hopped out of the bed of the truck and dispatched several walkers close to them and the commotion.
Rick saw Michonne limping and holding her stomach, "What happened...are you okay?" Michonne froze as another contraction swept over her entire body.
"She's in labor. She sprained her ankle too," Carl informed his father.
Rick held her face in his hands while she breathed heavily through the contraction. "I'm here. It's okay – breathe," he said kissing her forehead.
"Rick! We gotta go!" Abraham yelled from the street as he walked towards him, "there's more headed this way. Rick lifted Michonne into his arms and carried her towards the truck. He quickly and gently lifted her inside the front seat and climbed in beside her holding her close. Rosita did a quick head count making sure everyone was with them and the truck sped off to the safety of the library.
…..
A/N Well I have had perhaps, the worst two weeks in my recent history. A minor car accident, two ER visits, found out I have an ulcer, waaayyy too much family drama. Then, a death in the family. Just an awful two weeks with lots and lots of tears.
But here I am! Why is it that writing about imaginary people for other people I've never met, brings me so much joy? Hmmm...I just don't know but I do know, I'm happy to be here! Thank you readers, commentators, followers, friends for coming along with me on this adventure! This shout-out is especially for Lovie247 who gave me the ego boost I needed to leave my painful pity party and get back to finishing my latest chapter. You gave me just the encouragement I needed and I thank you!
I have to tell you that this story is almost finished and maybe has three more chapters. I pose a question to my faithful readers. Should I write: (A) A sequel to this story. It would have a similar tone but with lots of twists and taking place maybe ten years in the future. Or (B) Another story altogether. Still probably Michonne and Rick centric, still zombie centric (I love zombies and could never do an AU) but with a different setting and maybe a different vibe. I would love your feedback on which you would rather read, A or B.
On a final note, are you all ready for this Rick and Michonne episode we're about to get in a few hours? I gave R&M a wedding and a baby in my FF, but will it actually come to fruition on my TV screen? I can't wait! Can I just say that way back in chapter four of my FF I mentioned roller skates and BAM – Carl and Enid are roller skating in an episode. If TWD show runners are reading my FF for ideas, please contact me and I'll drop my crappy 9-5 job and come and write for the show! :)
Love to you all and God bless!