Day 970 – Midday

Becca

As the flood of walkers had cascaded down the hill Becca had trailed Bonnie and Wyatt, making sure to keep hold of Annie. They had crossed a bridge a few minutes ago, worried by the creaking noises it had made.

Not long after that Becca had looked over her shoulder to find out that the majority of the group had disappeared.. She was worried for them but her primary concern was getting Annie to safety, though that directive did not prevent her from becoming afraid for Vince's safety. He was up there on the hill with no one but Hector to help him; it would be tragic for him to perish there, or anywhere for that matter.

The sight of the town they had recently fled surfaced as the four of them trampled down an alleyway, the rain pouring down on their heads. Becca wished she had a hood; primarily because her hair was sticking to her face and getting in her eyes, but also because her vanity was getting the best of her and she was frustrated that her hair was losing the vague shape she liked to keep it in.

Choosing to ignore her minor concerns Becca concentrated on the path ahead and sighed with relief once they were clear of the dead, most of whom were still clamouring around thirty metres back. As they reached a crossroads the group paused to collect their thoughts and their breath.

"Fuck..." Bonnie sighed, sitting on the ground with her back to a building, one leg folded in while the other stuck out. "This is all my fault. It's always my fault."

"What are you talking about?" Wyatt huffed, hunched over. "'Always'?"

Bonnie looked up at him, her eyes watering. "I can't take it any more. I did this... I caused this, and Howe's was my fault too."

"What?" Wyatt gaped, recalling the events at Howe's; how the place had been taken down by walkers, how so many people had died and how only a few had managed to escape via various methods. "Don't say that. The herd had been coming for days, no one realised how bad it would be."

"No." Becca silenced him, raising her hand. "The loudspeaker. That's what attracted them, remember?" Glaring at Bonnie, Becca gave her declaration: "It was her. She set it off."

Annie shuddered. "But why? Why would she do that?"

Bonnie shook her head. "I didn't set it off, that weren't me, but I agreed to it so I could escape with the prisoners."

"The prisoners?" Wyatt repeared, his head jerking forwards in surprise. "You brought that down on us and didn't even try to find us after all we've been through? What the hell, dude?"

"I'm sorry, okay?!" Bonnie screamed, pressing her hands into her temples. "How d'you think I felt thinkin' I'd got y'all killed, huh?"

"Pff," Becca snorted, "It's not like you cared. You would've warned us."

"You didn't just leave us - your old group - to die, either," Wyatt stared at Bonnie as he placed his hand on Annie's shoulder and pointed at the child. "Her. You left this defenseless child to die, too. If you hadn't let the prisoners out they wouldn't have been able to let the herd in. We could've kept it under control. We wouldn't have had to escape and Laura wouldn't have died. Or Miles, or Russ, or..." he gulped, "...Shel."

Becca's head whipped around to stare at Wyatt as Bonnie looked at her with fear on her face. It took a second for the fact that Bonnie was responsible for Shel's demise to sink in before Becca took a deep breath and felt her hands closing into fists as air rushed in and out of her nostrils. It felt like her forehead was boiling and she could feel heat behind her eyes. She couldn't be sure whether her face was turning red or not but she gave it no further thought as she took a step closer to Bonnie. The woman looked up at her, terrified, and then grunted in pain as Becca's left fist connected with her face. Bonnie was knocked to one side as Becca's right hand clasped the material of her former ally's jacket and slammed her knuckles into her face once again. Bonnie moaned again and again as Becca pummeled her, screaming inaudible words as she did so. Wyatt shuffled forwards to pull her away but paused before his hand could make contact with Becca's shoulder. Instead of getting between them he sighed, relaxed and stepped back to let Becca do what she had to do, opting to cover Annie's eyes instead.

Becca wailed as she punched Bonnie across the cheek again, her knuckles splitting with the force as the woman's face started to bruise. "YOU..."

One hit.

"...DID THIS..."

Two hits.

"...TO ME..."

Three hits.

"...YOU FUCKING..."

Four.

"...JUNKIE CUNT!"

Bonnie collapsed to the floor, her face bloodied with either her own fluids or Becca's; the teenager couldn't be sure as she looked at her split and bruised knuckles, shuddering. She looked over her shoulder at Wyatt and Annie and wiped her face, feeling the scar on her left cheek she had obtained shortly before Shel's demise.

Annie was cowering behind Wyatt, staring in the wide-eyed manner that a curious but fearful child did as they hid behind their protector. Wyatt looked afraid too, his breath shaking as he took a tentative step away from the teenager.

Becca had not felt so alone in a long time. Her only friends were afraid of her; she'd almost pummeled a woman to death and her one-and-a-half hands were bleeding.

Bonnie's fault. All of it; Shel dying, Marshall almost doing whatever he was planning to do, Becca being bitten, Russell's death, Miles' death, being tortured by bandits. All of it could have been avoided if a stupid woman had not thought about herself.

Becca's eyes started streaming as her bottom lip quivered. It took a moment but soon enough a deluge of salty tears covered her face as she collapsed onto her side. She wailed into the asphalt, her body limp as she crushed her eyelids together.

Were Annie and Wyatt afraid of her? Did a fifteen-year-old's somewhat understandable actions regarding the events and cause of her sister's death strike fear in their hearts?

Becca rolled onto her back and stared into the sky, her chest heaving and falling sharply as she spluttered and choked, weeping without pause. She could barely see through her foggy eyes.

She needed Vince. He would understand, he would help, just like he always did.