Twelve Weeks Later
Bright orange cracks stabbed through the thin, billowing curtains that swayed back and forth in a gentle cyclone of wind that streamed through the open window. Birds chirped softly, and the smell of rich red roses floated into the decently sized bedroom. The soothing faded blue walls were home to rows of family photos, and a vase of golden marigolds sat beside a tiny propped up mirror upon the wood of the dresser just below them. The mattress was impossibly soft; it felt like lying down on a fluffy cloud way high in the cerulean sky.
Kieran smiled blissfully, his arm draped around his wife, both of them cuddled together, bare below the lilac covers of their queen-sized bed.
Angela was the type of woman where no matter how hard you tried to resist, you couldn't help but take a second glance. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and nobody could argue otherwise. She had long, flowing and glowing blonde hair that reaches the small of her back and eyes so bright they could illuminate even the darkest of souls with their motherly warmth. Kieran traced a finger down from her cheek, over her chin and followed the lines of a faint burn scar that ran down to her collarbone before stopping. The result of a stray Molotov during the war.
The blonde let out a curt smile and curled up into her husband. "You don't need to keep doing that." She commented softly. "I'm over it now."
"Well," He said, leaning down and kissing Angela. "I just like doing that. You're going to have to deal with it."
The woman smirked and kissed him back. Her hand fell onto his, and she idly rolled his wedding ring around his finger. "Maybe I should file for a divorce then?"
Kieran gasped playfully, sitting up and placing a hand over where his heart would be. "You wouldn't dare!"
Angela giggled, and Kieran let the sinless sounds wash over him; it sounded like a choir of seraphim singing. He squeezed her hand fondly and walked over to the closet, opening it. He pulled out a light blue button-up shirt and coal slacks. The man twisted a dark red tie around his collar and fastened it. He pulled the flaps of his collar down and quickly combed his hand through his hair, concluding that was all he needed to do to style it.
He spun around to face Angela and held his arms wide. "What'd you think?"
"I think you look the same as you do every other day."
Kieran snorted and kissed Angela on the cheek. "Love you." He spoke as he left the room.
The landing was carpeted, which wasn't Kieran's preference, but the owner's before him. His feet sunk into the mint coloured material. He wasn't sure how he felt about the house. Sometimes he would feel a chill go down his spine when he was alone, like the owner's ghost was living within the walls, scowling at him because it wasn't his house. He may as well have been living in a graveyard.
His daughter, Ella, barreled past him with a "Hi, dad!" and continued down the stairs. His upper lip quirked upwards into a grin before falling flat. It seems she didn't care that the house was not her own. He followed the seven-year-old down the steps and into the kitchen.
An island fit snugly in the middle, white with a black top and four barstools huddled around it. Kieran grabbed an orange out of the fruit bowl and opened the cupboard, his mind wandering. Today was Clementine's day working in the Garden, and she'd be mixing with someone from Ward B. Silently, he grabbed a small glass and placed it underneath the spout of a silver juicer.
Wooden legs scraped against the floor, dragging him from his thoughts. Ella hopped onto the stool, perching patiently at the island with a plain sheet of A4 paper and crayons, doodling.
Kieran swallowed the lump in his throat that he didn't realise he held and peeled the citrus, pulling off the delicate shell and exposing the soft innards. His thoughts flashed to John, his flesh being torn away by Clementine's teeth and unquenchable hunger so she could reach his gooey insides. He'd be lying if he said the asshole didn't deserve it, but it didn't make the mental image any less horrifying. He bolted his eyes shut, his body tensed, and he placed the fruit on the counter and seized the edges with a death grip. A heavy breath escaped his lips, his body unlocked, and he was in control once again.
He sneaked a look back to his daughter, who was watching him, her eyes shining with worry. "I'm okay, darling." He lied, depositing the peel into the bin. "I j-just had a moment; I'm fine, really."
"If you say so..." His daughter trailed, turning around once again.
Kieran flipped the switch for the juicer, and the machine whirred to life. He plucked the fruit, held it over the open end of the juicer and dug his thumbs through the segments, some juice filtering through his fingertips like thick blood.
John's blood.
He bit the inside of his mouth and split the orange in half, dropping both parts into the juicer. He pushed the lid back in and compressed the citrus into the juicer. Juice trickled out of the spout and into the cup. Once it had finished and the cup was filled halfway, he promptly turned it off and picked up the glass. Kieran placed it on the counter and smiled at Ella, praying she wouldn't notice the cracks in his worn-down mask. He was finding each day harder and harder to pretend that what the Delta was doing to the prisoners was, in any way, ethical. The tales he had heard from the other wardens of the other four blocks during breaks were horrifying. All of them had two things in common, though: Lilly and a prisoner who was never the same after she was done with them.
"-Dad!"
Keiran blinked, shocked out of his trance. Ella was looking at him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked softly.
"I-It's nothin' for you to worry about. Grown-up stuff." He joked.
Ella didn't seem to buy it, and he frowned, sitting on the stool next to her.
"You know how I work in Ward E of the prison? And my job is to watch over both the prisoners and the guards of that ward?" He asked.
Ella nodded.
"Well, some time back, a co-worker was killed there by one of the prisoners on the very same day of my promotion. I should've been there to stop, and I wasn't." He released a shaky breath. "Clementine, the prisoner, was called Clementine, and I keep thinking about her and what she did to John."
"W-What did she do?"
Kieran peered into his daughter's curious eyes, and he sighed. "When you're older, I'll tell you all about it, but just know that it was terrifying. It was like she was one of those things outside the walls."
"No one ever tells me what they are." Ella pouted.
"Do you want to know? I think you're old enough now."
Ella nodded her head rapidly, taking a sip of her orange juice.
"They're what we become when we die; creatures of rotten flesh, sunken eyes, pale skin and yellow teeth. Walkers are what most people call them, and they are always starving, always hungry. They sink their teeth into anything they can get their hands on, so long as it contains blood and they dominate this planet. They outnumber the living by so much that we stay hidden to survive. This place, the Delta, is the closest I've seen us be to our old way of life since this all started, and you are so lucky to be born in here and not out there. You've still got a childhood, and I can think of plenty others who've had that robbed." Kieran brushed a lock of hair out of Ella's face and gently stroked her cheek. "So the next time you complain about your teacher handing out homework, think of how much worse your life could be."
Ella opened her mouth, but she struggled to find the words. Eventually, she mustered up a simple "Understood".
Kieran slowly glanced at the stairs to see Angela descending down them, dressed. "I see you gave her the walker talk."
"You're doing the puberty talk," Kieran remarked, standing up and walking to the door, shrugging into his jacket.
"Puberty?" Ella questioned innocently.
"Later, honey." Angela dismissed. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You off to work already?"
Kieran jammed his keys into the front door and unlocked it. "You know how it is." He opened it. "Duty calls!"
Angela chuckled and saluted, her back straightening. "Sir, yes, Sir!"
Kieran grinned. "Don't go all war-ey on me, Angela. I thought those days were over!"
"Oh, there'll be a war for damn sure if you don't say goodbye to me."
He smirked and slammed the door shut in her face.
Angela rolled her eyes and scoffed, muttering under her breath. "Asshole."
Kieran sighed and stared at the old pentagonal building sitting alone amongst a low hanging dark purple mist at the end of the long, winding cobblestone trail ahead of him. Headstones, belonging to prisoners, yet unnamed, decorated the muddy hill traversing up to the entrance, and dead trees filled what little space remained. The prison was made of ugly grey slabs of dense rock split into five wards: A, B, C, D and E. Ugly windows made of steel bars littered the walls like puncture wounds. He could hear the faint screams and cries of prisoners carry in the screeching wind that threw dead leaves through the air. The building was shadowed by a tall wall of concrete that rubbed up firmly next to it.
His hand wrapped around the ancient gate with a long, rough brick arch hanging above it. The wall stretched all the way to the tall barrier that separated the dead from the living. He pushed the gate open, and it creaked a horrible sound that stabbed his ears. Each footstep was silent as he approached the entrance, standing still in front of the twin wooden doors. He took a deep breath and entered the building.
Inside was illuminated by the weak streams of light that made it through the dusty, almost blocked windows. A lonely notepad sat on a receptionist desk and a quill and a small basket of ink, too. Kieran pinched the feathered writing apparatus and dunked it into the ink, writing his signature and the time, nine-thirty in the morning, on the paper. He had nine hours trapped inside the prison before his shift would be over. The warden placed the pen down and picked up a baton. He eyed the cobweb in the corner and walked into the door to his right that led directly into Ward E; Ward A was located to the left.
According to the map he had been given, the prison was laid out in the shape of a pentagon. Each line was a block that increased alphabetically clockwise. But being inside the Prison? If it weren't for the windows, he'd think it was a straight line. Between each ward, there was a doorway that led to the Garden. The Garden was a farm that sat in the centre of the pentagon, and it was where the prisoners spent most of their time. They worked in the baking Virginian sun all day long and then sent back to their cells with a bowl of gruel for their hard work. Heatstroke was a far too common occurrence.
He walked down Ward E, eyeing every cell, most of them empty. Kieran stopped at Violet's cell and peered into it, finding its inhabitant gone. He frowned; maybe the blonde finally submitted, but he doubted it. Pushing his worry down, he moved on, stopping at Clementine's cell.
She was sat on her bed, head in her hand and staring at the floor. Her missing foot had been replaced with a peg leg, and all her injuries had healed. His gaze fell on her fingerless hand. Well, all the ones that could heal.
"Clementine?" He said quietly, catching the brunette's attention. Her emotionless amber eyes staggered to look at him, and her head fell once again. He smiled sadly. "Time to go to work."
Clementine silently got to her feet, and Kieran unlocked the door, opening it wide.
"C'mon," He ushered, stepping to the side. Clementine kept her head low and slowly limped out of her cell, her peg leg clicking against the floor. Kieran's eyes were soft as the girl moved past him; she looked like the breeze could topple her like a flimsy house of cards. He closed the cell door and gripped onto Clementine's shoulder, directing her. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Clementine didn't answer; she didn't do anything to show she had heard him.
The pair reached a door, and Kieran opened it, directing Clementine through. They were stood on a sort of catwalk connecting Ward E to Ward D.
A blood-curdling scream came from the other ward, and Clementine froze.
"That someone you know?"
Clementine's eyes dampened. "You could say that, yeah..." She answered quietly, staring at the door. Kieran took a deep breath and began to move Clementine to the stairs leading to the Garden. "H-Help her! Please..." She begged.
"It's not my Ward." He answered, it taking all his strength not to rush in and help whoever it was. Clementine choked a sob, and Kieran's heart almost broke. "I-I'll see what I can do."
Clementine nodded and took her first nervous steps down the metal steps.
They made it to the Garden... if you could even call it a garden. It was split into 5 segments, tall chainlink fences that met in the middle to create a cage. There were no trees, and the dirt was brown, with no grass for it to hide beneath. The edges of the Garden were cracked, and not even the toughest of plants could survive there.
Ward E's chunk was filled with rows upon rows of tomato bushes. Each row had two workers designated to it, their sole job to pick tomatoes all day.
Kieran held Clementine in front of him and kept moving, grabbing a wooden basket as he did until he reached the one line on the outer edges that barely escaped the broken ground. "We're getting someone over from Ward B to help with this row today." He said.
Clementine turned to him.
"He had nothing to work on because his row of crops had died," Kieran added on. Clementine nodded and stared at the tomatoes. "C'mon, you've gotta do it, Clementine."
Clementine fell to her knees, creating divets in the dirt and her fingers worked into the bush, moving leaves out of the way until she touched the shiny, blood-red skin of the tomato. It felt like thin leather; beneath it, a world of barely restrained juice, threatening to burst if squeezed too hard. Knowing this place? She'd probably get a beating for making such a mistake.
Kieran crouched down next to her, placing the basket on the ground beside Clementine, watching closely as her fingers pinched the green stalk. She brought her other hand up and went to pluck the vegetable, and she froze. Her face fell even further, and Kieran witnessed the faint muscles in her hand clench beneath the skin before she let her useless, fingerless hand drop. He reached for the tomato himself and plucked it off for her, dropping it into the basket. Clementine weakly smiled a tiny thanks and went back to work hunting for yet another tomato.
"You getting soft?" A guard asked, sneaking up on him glaring down. Joeseph's face was screwed up, and his thick eyebrows were probably more intelligent than he was. His bald head was shiny, and a small revolver was attached to his hip, slightly concealed in its brown holster. Clementine stared at it like a hurt puppy.
Kieran frowned and stood up to his full height towering over the stocky man. His own eyebrows furrowed, and now he was the one glaring down. "Back off." He warned.
Joeseph cackled and poked the centre of his chest roughly. "Or what, big man?"
Kieran didn't say anything, and Joeseph smirked.
"I've brought the prisoner from Ward B over. I've got him working on row three."
"I need him over here," Kieran stated.
Joeseph rolled his eyes.
"You're in my Ward now, do as your told."
The bald man snarled and stomped off. Clementine's gaze followed him.
"What is it?" He asked.
"That's where it went," Clementine whispered.
Kieran raised an eyebrow.
"AJ's revolver. And that dickhead has it." Clementine sneered and violently shook her head and got back to work, trying her hardest to pick the tomato with one hand, but it was far more arduous than it first seemed. The brunette growled, getting more frustrated as time went on. "I-I can't do these alone." She admitted.
Soon enough, Joeseph was back with the other prisoner.
He pushed them down next to Clementine, who stared in shock as they recovered. "L-Louis?"
"Hey! No talking!" Joeseph reprimanded, storming over and smacked her across the back of the head. Clementine cried out, and as Joeseph went for another hit, Kieran grasped his wrist and twisted it, pulling the stocky man away from Clementine. He placed his hands on the man's chest and pushed him away.
"Leave it." He growled.
"But she-"
"I. Don't. Care. Go back to your section." Kieran demanded. "I'll drop Louis off when his work is done."
Joeseph's face was the epitome of fury, and for a brief moment, Kieran feared that he would pull out AJ's revolver and shoot him dead with it. The man took a deep breath and stomped away out of sight.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed noisily into the air. Kieran turned to Louis. "Your job is to help her pick tomatoes, alright? I'm going to have a conversation with Lilly. Make sure you've done as much as you can whilst I'm gone; I don't want to hurt you."
Louis nodded, and Kieran walked off, disappearing into Ward D.
Clementine and Louis worked tirelessly, the sun making their skin glisten with beads of sweat that rolled of their faces into the impossibly dry ground. She wondered if that was how the crops were still alive.
Louis cocked his head, looking at her.
"What is it?" She asked, prying a tomato off its stem. It fell and landed in Louis' hand.
Louis carved the shape of a flower into the dirt with his finger and added a question mark.
"Violet?"
Louis nodded fervently.
Clementine's jaw clenched. "She's with Lilly right now."
Louis' eyes shined with worry.
"I h-heard her screaming as we-" Clementine took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled it. "I-I don't know if she's even alive... God knows Lilly is getting tired of her refusing to give in. I-I'm scared... If she dies too... I-I-"
Louis lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, one of the only ways he had left to comfort people these days after he lost a tongue over a year ago. He knew what he wanted to say, she'll be okay, but he just couldn't.
Clementine sniffled and agreed. "Y-Yeah, okay. She's fine, right?"
Louis nodded; even if he didn't quite believe it himself, even if Clementine knew he was lying, it was all he could do. He pointed at the tomatoes, and they continued working.
Soon, the sounds of cheering erupted over in segment B. Two prisoners, both large men, one white and one black, were sprawling across the floor. The white man raised his fist and slammed it into the nose of the black man. Soon, the cheers turned into boos. Louis stared, disgusted.
The black man launched his knee into the white man's groin, and the cheers were back once again. Much to Clementine's shock, Joseph came running over, pointing the barrel of the revolver against the white man's temple. "Get up, Jack. You're lucky I haven't shot you already."
Clementine raised an eyebrow as another guard rushed over to the black man and extended his hand, pulling the larger man to his feet. The prisoners threw jeers at Jack, who snarled at them as he reluctantly got to his feet, putting his hands behind his head.
"Come on, you racist fuck. Lilly's gonna have a field day with you. Hell, she might cut the blondie some slack when she hears of this."
Joeseph led Jack away, and silence dominated once again.
Kieran softly closed the door to Lilly's office and leaned into it, sighing. He didn't want to this, but it was the only idea they had to help Clementine's hand.
His attention was captured by Joeseph approaching him, Jack mere meters ahead.
"What'd he do this time?" He asked.
"You need me to answer that?" Joeseph fired back.
Kieran moved to the side, letting the other man access Lilly's office. "I suppose I don't."
"My section is gonna need Louis back."
"Alright..." Kieran reluctantly accepted.
The warden left the area before Joeseph could open the door, leaving Ward D and out into the Garden. He shielded his eyes from the blazing sun and moved his way past the bushes. Eventually, he made it to Clementine and Louis, who were working in complete silence.
"You're needed back in your section." He said to Louis, whose only response was to clamber to his feet and tread over to the gate, getting let in by another guard.
"N-Now what? What am I supposed to do?" Clementine asked, cradling her stumpy hand.
Keiran swallowed and pulled the brunette to her feet. "I'm taking you to the infirmary."
Clementine seemed confused at that but got up regardless, wobbling on the wooden stick attached to her stump. He gripped the smaller's shoulder and directed her back up the steps and into the infirmary.
The floor was white. The walls were white. The ceiling was white. Everything was white.
Clementine had never seen a more sterilised room in her life.
A solitary bed lay in the middle of the room, and Clementine found herself being pushed towards it. "W-What are you doing?" Clementine asked, a feeling of dread slithering into her heart as Kieran rolled her sleeve up past her wrist.
"My job," Kieran stated, dumping Clementine unceremoniously onto the bed. She bounced on it slightly, which was when she felt a belt wrap around her wrist, just above her fingerless hand.
Her eyes widened in realisation. "No! Please, no! Don't!"
Kieran took a deep breath and grabbed a bone saw, pushing all his weight against Clementine's upper arm so she couldn't move. She panicked, pounding her fist into his side, ultimately failing to do anything. She was utterly helpless.
"I'm sorry..." He apologised, placing the saw's sharp teeth against Clementine's skin. Suddenly, he sawed down, tearing through Clementine's skin and flesh, blood spraying like a hose. The girl screamed, her legs kicking and body thrashing as she desperately tried to escape the immense pain. Kieran sawed again, applying more pressure and hearing the flesh fissure and the blade grate against white bone. The brunette's screams dissipated, and her body went limp. Kieran breathed slightly easier. He tore through the bone, and the process was smooth sailing from there, the tissue fell apart at the seams, and soon, Clementine's hand was gone, lying on the floor, a tiny slab of unrecognisable meat.
He wrapped the stump with a bandage, warm blood soaking through the layers and dripping onto the floor, joining the already accumulated puddle. He put the bloodied saw down, closing his eyes.
He'd just cut someone's hand off.
He picked Clementine up, feeling her ribs through her jacket, his hands leaving bloodied handprints. Kieran lowered her unconscious form into a wheelchair and pushed the teenager out of the room.
Eventually, they made it to Ward E. Lilly left Violet's cell, sobbing emitted from within, and she slammed it shut behind her. She must have snuck past him whilst he was in the infirmary. He could see the blood on her hands, and he averted his gaze as she stared at him.
"You did it, huh?" Lilly asked.
Kieran nodded. "Have you sent a request to the hospital?"
"I haven't had the time." The woman cocked her head, pointing his attention to Violet's cell. "This one's been getting more mouthy as of late, so I've spent all day dealing with her. And then the shit with Jack... it'll be done by the end of the day."
"Okay," Kieran said, wheeling up to her. He peered into Violet's cell and gasped. The blonde was fumbling about, her hands fluttering against the wall. His involuntary noises must've attracted her attention, however. As her gaze snapped to him, or lack thereof.
Her other eye was now also gone. Her tears, mixed with blood, trickled down her cheek like a leaky faucet. Neither eye socket was bandaged, and Kieran could see the flashes of bone and disturbed flesh within.
"It's-It's like she can see me..." Kieran whispered.
A wretched sob tore through the blonde's body, and she crashed to the ground. Lilly stared, eyes empty as Violet curled up and cried.
"How is she-"
"Tears are created in the eyelids; she still has 'em," Lilly answered.
Kieran listened, his eyes not leaving Violet, as Lilly stalked off.
She stopped at the door and turned to look at him. "Kieran." She spoke, garnering his attention. "Don't change. You're the best of us."
And like that, she was gone. Keiran gulped and pushed Clementine to her cell. He moved her from the chair to the bed and silently closed the door, locking it. He stood still silently until Violet made a sound.
"C-Clementine?"
The word sounded broken, delicate and fragile, and oh so very scared.
"I-I can't- W-Where-" A sniffle. "W-Where am I?"
Kieran felt his heart sink and wandered from Clementine's cell over to Violet's, and he peered in. She reached up to her face with a shaky hand, her fingers close to penetrating her eye sockets.
"It burns..." She choked, the edges of her fingers digging just beyond the threshold of her eye sockets. Kieran was rooted to the spot as the blonde grazed the inner walls of her face, and she flinched, closing her eyelids.
"I'm so, so sorry..." Kieran said softly as Violet crumbled once again.
The stories about Lilly were all true. No prisoner was the same after she was through with them.