Everyone has memories- they're what make us human. Without these defining moments, we would be no better than the dead, and no more living than the unliving.
Clementine
Half asleep, Clementine rose up from her resting place to greet the morning sun. Dim beams of honey shown through the tattered curtains of their motel room. The girl sat up slowly, looking over at Lee, still fast asleep under their thin blanket.
Clementine loved the morning time. She loved hearing the birds in the trees, even when they were swallowed by the distant cries of the undead. There were things in the apocalypse that only Clem could see, things that the adults were too scared to stop and enjoy. These hidden reminders of their past world excited the child.
Lee
Don't come near me!
Lee replayed those words over and over in place of a peaceful sleep. Even after the old way of life fell to their new harsh reality, Lee felt tormented by his wife's final words to him. She was so afraid in those moments, and he was so hurt.
Tossing and turning, the man found peace in only one thought: Clementine. She was a ray of hope for the guilty man, a chance at redeeming himself in the eyes of his conscience. The thought of that little girl surviving the world around them set Lee at ease.
Duck
His name was Kenny Junior, but everyone called him Duck. His nickname stuck, making Kenny Junior more of a formal name for when his mother was irritated with the boy's antics. He never thought of himself as a "Kenny". It made him think of his father, and he thought it was weird for two people to have the same name. To the boy, weird names were like superpowers, and he wanted it to himself. However, try as he might to forget the name, it still followed him.
"Kenny Junior!" Katjaa barked, standing furiously over a chalk outline of a butt.
Kenny
Kenny was a family man, and that meant family came before everything. He couldn't see it any other way; how could someone put anything above the ones they loved? It was never a question whether or not to escape the motel. There was one goal in mind, and that was to protect his wife and child.
Was there guilt? Maybe, but the fear of failure outweighed the man's emotions as the front of the RV tore through the last remaining barricades. The motel had already fallen and there was nothing left to salvage in his mind. It was all gone.
Katjaa
"There was just so much in the first few days." The Belgian woman told Lee, sitting obediently on the motel couch. Across from her, Lee listened with genuine interest. As the mother spoke, she settled her shaking hands by placing them in her lap.
"We were in Fort Lauderdale and Kenny just drove. It was a miracle we made it as far as we did with so little gas." She stopped.
Turning her head, Katjaa sorrowfully watched as the two children ran up the balcony.
"I can't imagine what it must be like for children to grow up like this."
Lilly
The pale woman slammed her fists against her door, too infuriated to form words. They were so close to food, so close to something better. Then, like everything else, one bad detail led to another.
She stood in the dark of her room in a gaunt silence. With every sluggish blink, she saw her father's face blurred in the back of her mind. He was in pain, lying on the floor like a wounded animal.
He murdered him. Her mind hissed, painting a warped depiction of Kenny. The anger turned into sorrow, and Lilly sank to her knees and cried.
Carley
Damnit, I think I like Doug.
Her thoughts puzzled the reporter. She hadn't "liked" someone since her years studying abroad, and even then the term sounded too childish to be taken seriously. Carley was never one for romantics, but she found herself staring harder than normal at the nerdy adult as he sifted through their weekly rations. Today was his week to get first pick, bringing visible excitement to the man's face. She liked seeing him happy, whatever that meant.
"Alright, what do you think?" Doug asked, turning around with a can in each hand. "Canned peaches or cat food?"
Doug
It took nearly three months for Doug to realize he missed very little about his old life. There was a new sense of meaning to his existence, more than just night classes and caring for his father. As horrible as it was to think- it was as if the rising of the dead was the final push to start a new chapter in the man's life, and he was prepared.
Running into his group was a stroke of luck amidst utter chaos, passing by the old pharmacy just as Lilly began to shut the doors. Things just worked out sometimes.
Ben
Ben was always the odd one out, and the motel was no different. He knew he was clumsy, but he wasn't stupid. The lanky teen noticed the sideways glances and quick peeks taken by the other survivors.
"Are you okay?" Clementine asked from behind the boy, catching his attention. She looked up with a puzzled expression, sleep still fighting in her eyes.
"Yeah." He shrugged her off, hoping the rest of the others were still asleep. "Clem, why are you up so early?"
"Why are you up?" Clementine returned, chilling Bens' blood. He gave no answer, sulking timidly to bed.
Omid
There came a time in a man's life when he needs his wife to take over. This was most definitely one of those times. Omid had spent the afternoon racing around the diner in an effort to entertaining Clem. The young girl had noticed Omid's stress and quickly thought of a solution. She challenged her new friend to a game of tag, and Omid was reluctant to join.
The sound of the little girls' feet echoed across the linoleum tile and thus, the game was on. He was much bigger than the furniture, and so she found him within seconds.
Christa
"They just left you like that? That's terrible." Christa gasped, sitting attentively across from Lilly and Carley. The two women nodded back, with Lilly looking away to contain her visible animosity.
"Well, at least you all made it out." She comforted as if life was a consolation prize. She eyed Omid's legs dangling from under a booth, but was unable to chuckle.
"Omid and I were staying with my sister when it happened. There was an evacuation of the neighborhood and it was…" She stopped. "We're here now."
Carley nodded empathetically, adjusting to the company after days of wandering silence.
Stephanie
The diners' air conditioning system had run dry weeks ago, but Shel still felt cold to the touch.
Stephanie cradled her friend in her lap, gently brushing the woman's dried, brown hair behind her ear. Shel had fallen asleep shortly after returning inside the diner, snoring softly while the others buzzed with conversation around her.
The two girls sat off to the side, preferring the calm silence they had become accustomed to since losing Shel's sister. Stephanie missed the spirited teen, remembering their playful fighting and occasional arguments.
She'll be okay. Stephanie thought between light yawns. She has to be.
Shel
Shel slept soundly for the first time in days. The rush of calm came at an odd occasion, contrasting her earlier meltdown. She dreamt of the night they met Christa and Omid.
They had settled in for the night on the side of the old highway, hoping to catch any passing survivors. Sure enough, the weary but hopeful couple had made contact before nightfall. They exchanged their stories under the light of a low flame.
Becca was initially hesitant, refusing to speak with the strangers, but Shel knew good people when she saw them, or so she used to believe.
Eddie
Eddie threw the first shirt he could find over his battered chest. The bruises stung against the cool fabric, but he pushed through it. It was time to move. The sun had set hours ago, and Eddie hated the dark.
He stood up and crossed the roof of the Save-Lots, making sure to blow out their lanterns before continuing down into the facility. Around him, fevered arguing and a heap of laughter filled the shopping center like an inescapable flame.
The stoner wished Wyatt would return soon to annoy the shit out of him. Eddie didn't want to be alone.
Bonnie
"Bonnie, how did this happen?" A frightened voice pled, reaching Bonnie through a deep trip. She was hooked on that stuff, face-down on the floor like a discarded doll. Leland stood over her and another figure: his wife, Dee.
Dee lay face-down as well, though her pulse went silent within seconds of Leland's return. He scooped the older blonde in his arms, gritting his teeth through silent tears.
"What'd you do, Bonnie? Goddamnit!"
The junkie couldn't answer, though her eyes shed tears all the same. Her hand loosely clutched a pistol in a confused panic, but one bullet was missing.
Wyatt
Wyatt stuck his head out of the passenger-side window and fired into the chaos. He heard the bullet pierce a tire, stopping the returned fire as the car veered out of view.
"Did you get him?" Eddie asked frantically, swerving their truck around a group of feeding roamers. Wyatt ducked back in, his breath shaking from the tension.
"I have no fucking idea!"
Eddie grunted, steering successfully around a multitude of grotesque battles. All around them, the city of Macon was turned into an undead feast.
"Dude, this is so fucked." Eddie coughed.
"No shit, dumbass! Pass me the blunt."
Harlan (oc)
Harlan sat in the far corner of the Save-Lots staff room and shuffled a deck of cards. He was missing a number of diamonds but didn't mind. He never played fair anyways.
"Harlan, we got a lady on aisle six asking questions about a plunger." A man called out from the adjacent office. With a sigh, the balding slacker rose to his feet and straightened his back.
"Another day, another confused broad." He snickered, hearing the other man conceal his own laughter. "You staying 'till closing Roman?"
His managers' answer was cut short by a piercing scream across the store.
Roman
Roman felt the woman's chest compress under the weight of his boot. Columns of flames rose behind them, painting the sky a sickly, orange hue.
"You think you're tough, bitch?" He laughed through a bloody grin. The woman struggled furiously under his hulking weight.
"Fuck you." She spat, souring the bandits' expression. He stepped off of the woman and kicked her in the head with a shocking amount of force. The woman went out cold, spitting a stream of crimson across the grass. Following up with another kick, Roman felt a hand grasp his shoulder.
"Roman, we got to go!"
Leland
"I'm gonna go out to that old farmhouse and get us some more ammunition. That freak family must've had a stockpile." Leland let the words escape his lips effortlessly. He knew it was a lie, and he was sure Bonnie did too.
He was leaving, plain and simple. The redhead nodded, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. The two had set their beds in the hardware department, hiding them from the reach of the morning light.
"When I get back, we'll see if we can fix up that radio." Another empty promise. Bonnie nodded but kept her eyes pointed downwards.
Nates' First Victim (oc)
Find Omma and your Granddaddy. I love you.
Her mother's handwriting was frantic, a fitting representation of the end. Millie looked out into the yard and wished her mother would lay down and die.
Instead, the monster mashed its teeth together in hunger, eyeing the frightened child from the bottom of an empty pool.
Millie knew how to fire a gun; her Grandaddy showed her how for her birthday. Still, the firearm felt ornate in her hands, cold steel stinging her bloodied palms.
From two houses over, Nate heard the shots. He started his truck, praying for some good luck.
She had killed two walkers since the start of the infection. It was difficult for the thirteen-year-old to pull the trigger, but she did. She imagined they were monsters from her old books as a child: grotesque goblins with silly robes and wicked grins.
It was easy to imagine the monsters away, but for people it was impossible.
Put the gun down, kiddo. I'll let you go if you just put it down.
Do it. She couldn't. She knew if she put the gun down she would die, but her hand froze. Millie shut her eyes, wishing the goblins away.
We've got people from all over Georgia. If you're looking for anyone, maybe they'll be there.
These were empty words, but she believed them. Now she was lost, betting her life with each shallow breath. She had to do something to escape his torment, but there was little to work with.
The back of his truck was swamped with heat, cooking the child's mind as her weariness grew. Finally, in one mindless motion, she mashed her tongue against her lips and bit down. The pain was numbed from exhaustion, filling the girl's mouth with warm blood. Smiling, she lay still.