Holy shit, I updated and it hasn't even been a year yet? What? And I've already started the next chapter? Who am I? This is a Sunny heavy chapter.
So, there are some WARNINGS for this chapter. I want to give people the option of looking at them if they are concerned with possible triggers, but still give those that want the surprise a chance to be surprised. The WARNINGS will be in the author's notes at the end so click or scroll down to those if you want those WARNINGS ahead of the chapter. Hopefully, this is a good compromise? I'm trying.
Sunny's back ached. Her whole body ached. Every muscle was sore and screamed at her with every step. Her eyes were heavy, the many sleepless nights weighing them down, promising relief if she would just close them.
The thought of reaching Alexandria was the only thing keeping her going. A shower. A meal that wasn't a protein bar. A bed. All those things were worth the struggle.
You had all of those things and you, literally, walked away. If you hadn't been such an idiot, this wouldn't be a problem in the first place.
A wave of overwhelming exhaustion overcame her. She started her trek earlier in the morning at the first hint of light in the air. The overcast sky and still air did nothing to help her mood. She could just sit against a tree for a second. Her body needed a break. She could take a bite of food and a little sip of water. Ten minutes. She would give herself 10 minutes then she would get up and keep going. She was within a day or so of Alexandria depending on how far she walked every day.
Sunny took off her bag tossing it to the ground and settled with her back against the scratchy bark of a pine tree. Pulling the zipper, she opened the black backpack to the dwindling supply of food and water. She needed to find more soon if she didn't reach Alexandria. Maybe there was a little town nearby that wasn't already cleaned out of essentials.
The skies above rumbled and a breeze picked up. It was fitting to her mood. Never had she felt so tired. So defeated. What was little rain? Maybe it would feel like a shower. Lord knew she could use one.
She took a bite of a protein bar which tasted faintly of the peanut butter it purported to contain. It mostly tasted like chalk. It was hard to chew and even harder to swallow. Nothing seemed able to settle her stomach. The stress and anxiety of her world right now had set her entire system on edge. What she wouldn't give for a greasy hamburger from her favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant in her hometown or even the charred ones her dad used to grill. Those were the only things that sounded appetizing at the moment
Her heart lurched thinking of her family. Her parents were weird and strict, but they did their best. And though her upbringing was unconventional, to say the least, would she have lasted as long as she had without all they had provided? No.
She never should have left home. Her parents left and never came back. Her sister too. Would she ever get to go home again? To be in a place that felt like home?
Sunny pulled her knees to her chest as thunder rumbled overhead. Rain fell a few pitter-patters at a time before the skies opened up. She was soaked within a few minutes. Instead of washing the dirt and dust from her body, she was now covered in mud-like paste. She would be crusty when it dried. Wonderful.
Lightning zapped across the sky, loud enough to make her scream and cover her ears. Branches cracked and swayed violently as the wind whipped through them. It had been years since her sense had been assaulted so forcefully.
Huddling against the tree, she closed her eyes, resting her head on her knees, shielding herself from the din surrounding her. She shivered as the clothing clung to her, cooling with every gust. The creaking and cracking of branches seemed to be getting closer. The wind groaning and snarling at her. Too close.
Sunny's head popped up. A walker, face oozing off its skull in the heavy downpour, lumbered towards her. Grabbing her backpack, she sprinted away from the corpse, hoping she was heading in the direction of the main road she had been following. There had to be a car, anything for her to hide in. From the rain. From the thunder. From the dead.
The road was barely visible through the trees and deluge. Her face was soaked. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to shield her from the rain. Her feet slipped in the mud, struggling to climb over roots and underbrush.
There was a white sedan fifty feet away down the road. She adjusted her course and headed for shelter. She didn't know how far behind the walker was. She didn't dare look back. She had to keep going.
Her fingers tried to lift the flat handle of the back door on the car but lost traction on the slick surface. Her hands shook as she finally got a solid grip and pulled the door open.
A wave of foul rotting putridity hit her only seconds before a dried-out corpse lunged forward. Its face sunken in and shriveled. Every ounce of moisture seemingly sucked from its shell of a body.
Sunny fell, her feet flying out from underneath her on the wet pavement. Her head bounced off of the road, spots and colors flashing before her eyes, ringing blaring in her ears. The walker tumbled on top of her. It bared its teeth, gnashing as it snarled. She lifted her hand, pushing the brittle neck away from her, fighting against the withered arms that clawed at her, while her other reached for her knife at her hip. She had not come this far to die now.
The rain pelting down on them made the walker slick, almost slimy, as the mummified flesh rehydrated. Sunny choked as fear turned to genuine terror and panic. She fumbled with her knife, trying to pull it while keeping the monster's mouth at bay.
Her fingers finally found the right grip, pulling the knife up, she stabbed at the thing's head over and over until it stopped moving, what was left of its brain and blood falling on her in congealed chunks.
Rolling over, she pushed the body off of her, retching onto the road, heaving the last remnants of anything she had ever eaten. From the corner of her eye, she saw the first walker emerging from the trees. How had it found her? Had the struggle been loud enough for it to hear over the storm?
She crossed the road and took off. Her blood pounding in her ears drowned out any further rumbles from the sky. She'd find another car. She'd remember to tap on the window this time. How could she have been that careless? She knew better. Had already been startled by one her first week, though she saw it before she could open the door.
As the tempest dissipated, all that was left was a few drops falling from leaves and branches above, Sunny's body shook. From being wet and cold or from the shock of her near-death experience she didn't know. She picked at the chunks of gore that were on her chest and in her hair, hoping she had found most of them. Kneeling behind a tree, she dry heaved. Her lip trembled and eyes burned with the need to cry.
Not yet. Find a safe place and then you can cry.
There was another abandoned vehicle up the road. An old heavy-duty truck. The kind of classic her dad had once owned, swearing up and down he would never get rid of it. She tapped on the glass. Peered inside the window. Empty. Now was it unlocked? She tried the door handle, it opened with a heavy clunk.
Climbing in, she cracked the back window of the cab just enough to let some fresh air in. She locked the doors and laid across the bench seat trying to ignore the foul stench of walker guts that clung to her.
Tears that had remained steadfastly unshed finally freed themselves. Falling down her temples into her hair. Dizziness started spinning the world around her as her body wracked with small sobs, too scared to cry as loudly as her soul demanded. She laid there silently weeping until her body was heavy, eyes fighting to stay open, every nerve frazzled and frayed.
Her hand reached up to the back of her head where a large knot was forming. Her head throbbed. No sleep. If she had a concussion, she needed to stay awake, according to what her mother used to tell her, even though her body ached and stomach churned.
Sitting up, she pulled out the map. It was still mid-morning even though the overcast sky made it look later. She could make it to Alexandria in a few hours with any luck. Her knee bumped into something setting it swinging. A key chain...the keys were in the ignition. But would it turn over?
None of the other vehicles she had tried and worked, sitting too long in the elements. Gasoline separating, the water evaporating until all that remains is thick gunky fluid sure to kill what was left of the vehicle. But what was the harm in trying?
Her fingers gripped the key. Foot pressing down on the brake. Rolling her fingers forward, she held her breath. The engine chugged and sputtered then died. She pumped the gas pedal. Turning the key again, the truck engine struggled but started.
Finally, something was working in her favor. In no time at all, she would be clean and dry.
Negan swirled his bourbon watching the amber liquid spin around the two ice cubes that clinked against the glass. He sat at the head of a long table in the room that served as a meeting place for the few Saviors he felt he could trust. His boots were propped up on the corner of the hard surface, Lucille leaning against his chair. If anyone had glanced at him they would have thought him bored. But his men knew better.
This was not the stance of a man relaxed. In the last two weeks, Negan had regained the ruthless volatility that had garnered him the respect and loyalty of the degenerates surrounding him. His anger was palpable. The energy of The Sanctuary, while never warm and welcoming, had become hostile.
Everyone was on edge. Walking on eggshells, trying to avoid the big bad wolf who threatened to blow every single one of them down if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. Though no one really knew what brought on the sudden change. There were rumors. But no one would confirm if they were true and no one was stupid enough to ask.
"Boss, we gotta do something soon, or we're gonna have problems," said Simon, bringing Negan out of his thoughts. His fingers traced the path of his mustache around the corners of his mouth.
Without breaking his gaze from his drink, Negan asked, "What fucking problems?"
Dwight shifted in his chair, being on Negan's radar was not something he wanted, ever. But being at the top near him was better than being at the bottom. He looked to Laura staring at her hands in the corner, not yet afforded a seat at the table. The other members exchanged glances. No one wanted to speak up. He tugged at the string that once held a button on the cuff of his plaid shirt. "The Saviors are getting restless, sir. They're complaining about not having any action the last two weeks. It's starting to affect morale and when morale is low, violence is high."
"Well, we can't fucking have that now, can we?" Negan took a sip. "It's about time we start making the rounds, collecting our shit from those fucking communities. Get trucks ready, divide people into teams. We'll head out tomorrow." He downed the rest of his drink and waved the people in the room away. No one had to be asked twice.
Negan kicked his feet to the floor. He grabbed Lucille and swung her over his shoulder, the leather of his black jacket protecting him from the barbs.
Maybe those assholes were right. Maybe getting out and cracking some skulls, making sure those communities toe the line would help keep his mind off of her.
Sunny hadn't shown up at her house. He was so fucking sure she would have. Where else would she go? He had probably scared her away from any groups or communities. She was all alone. Or dead. And it was all his fucking fault.
Entering his room, the extravagance that surrounded him made him want to rage. The opulence and perfection only masked the deception and dishonesty, much like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound. This room was still just a room in a fucking dirty factory, filled with the weak and the vile. He knew where he stood on that spectrum.
The last thing Sunny had wanted was to be alone. His selfishness drove her away. He learned to take what he wanted when the world ended...even before he had put his own needs above others. But he couldn't do that with Sunny again. Even if he found her and locked her up, he could never have what he wanted. Her love and affection, freely given. Her spirit, innocent and uplifting. He would never have them if they even still existed.
Sunny's luck ran out a few miles away from Alexandria. The truck that had been the miracle she needed to keep going, ran out of its last bit of gas. Hiding the map in the glove box, just in case her bag was searched or confiscated, she abandoned it like so many other vehicles on the road and set out on foot.
It was afternoon. The sun behind the clouds was creeping closer to the horizon. The air was humid, all the morning rain evaporating making the heat of the day viscous.
Her head had stopped throbbing which was good. It made walking easier but her stomach was still queasy. She had tried to eat a few bites after puking her guts up this morning but every time it came right back up.
The street in front of her had cars lined up creating barriers. Ruins of once beautiful homes stood on either side of the avenue. At the end, there was a wall. Armed lookouts stood on scaffolding behind the barrier.
Taking a deep breath, she took a step forward. Catching a glimpse of herself in a car window, she saw her reflection. Her hair was matted with grease and walker guts. She was so dirty and disheveled that she wouldn't blame anyone for mistaking her for a reanimated dead corpse. She felt as good as she looked.
Sunny lifted her hands and continued forward. Her eyes watched for any movement from her periphery while keeping the guards in her sight.
She heard shouting, though what was being said was lost to her in the wake of her nerves until she had almost reached the gate.
"Stop right there!" a woman's voice bellowed.
Sunny froze. Would they take her in? Shoot her down? At this point, she wasn't sure she cared. Rest was rest.
The gate began to creak as it slid to the side revealing a small group of people. The welcoming committee , she thought. Or executioner's squad.
A man with a cowboy hat approached her followed by a man with greasy shoulder-length hair that hung in eyes and a woman with short gray hair.
"Who are you?" the cowboy rasped. He had a revolver tucked inside a hip holster.
Shit. She hadn't thought of a name or background story. She couldn't tell the truth. "Darcy."
The woman took a step forward, hugging the shotgun she carried to her waist. Her finger resting above the trigger. "How did you find us, Darcy?"
"I've been walking for a long time. Trying to find food in houses." Sunny dropped her arms, tired from holding them up.
The many with the long hair raised his crossbow, setting her in his sight. She raised them to her chest.
The cowboy, obviously the leader, glared at her. "I'm going to ask you three questions, and I want you to answer honestly."
Sunny nodded her head. These were the good people Sherry had mentioned?
"How many walkers have you killed?" The man's hand rested on the handle of his gun.
"I don't know. I mainly try to hide from them in cars or buildings if I see them before they see me. I killed one today while running from another. Forgot to check the car to see if it was empty first."
"How many people have you killed?"
Sunny's eyes widened. If she answered truthfully, would they think she was lying? "None. I've been alone."
The man in the hat regarded her. "Why?"
"I've been hiding mostly from the dead but also the living. I've seen a few groups from a distance. I didn't think I would have been safer with them than I was on my own."
"Why do you need people now?" the older woman asked.
Sunny swayed. "I don't think I'll last long on my own anymore. I'm running out of food and water. Having a hard time finding more. I've never seen anything like this so I thought I'd take my chances."
The world started to tilt. Am I falling? Strong arms caught her, lifting her. She saw flashes of the cowboy above her, his salt and pepper beard, blue eyes looking at her in concern, houses, the grey clouds behind him.
There was a bustle of activity around her as they entered one of the homes. Two women hurriedly worked to clean her arm. A slight pinch then a rush of cool ran through her arm. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay," a blonde woman with glasses said before Sunny's eyes closed.
Sunny's eyes opened. Sun shone through several windows into a living room turned infirmary. She laid on an exam table. A metal-framed bed covered in a quilt was on the wall to her right. A fireplace with a table for medical tools was behind her. A screen was to her left. She slowly sat up, leaning on her elbows.
A young woman with short dark brown hair wearing camo pants and a dark top under a plaid green shirt walked into the room. "Oh, hey." She walked towards her, yelling over her shoulder to the entryway behind her, "Denise! She's up!" She got closer to Sunny, offering her a hand to help her sit all the way up. "I'm Tara. Denise is the doctor around here so…"
A wave of nausea flipped Sunny's stomach. "Puke," she groaned.
"Fuck." Tara turned on the spot, searching for a proper receptacle. She lunged for the small wastebasket next to the bed and rushed to push it in front of Sunny's face.
Sunny gagged a few times though nothing ever came up. She took a few deep breaths but that did not help to ease her queasiness thanks to the smell that clung to her clothes, skin, hair...everything that touched her reeked.
Denise, a woman with long curly blonde hair and glasses, walked in, clipboard in hand. "Hello. So I have to ask you, have you been bitten?"
Sunny hugged the small plastic trash can. Her mind felt like it was lagging. Everything was out of sync. Her processing slow. "Bitten?"
Denise looked up from her clipboard, her glasses sliding down her nose a bit as her blue eyes concentrated on the dirty mess of a woman before her. "By a walker. Are you sick? You showed up covered in guts and passed out. We didn't search you because that's creepy, but we need to know."
Closing her eyes, Sunny tried to remember anything after arriving at the gate but had no memory of how she got inside this house. "How long have I been here?"
Tara chimed in, leaning against the bed frame. "About 18 hours." Sunny could see the outline of a gun holster jutted out against her flannel shirt and a knife tucked into her heavy boots.
"I fought a walker yesterday. I wasn't bitten, but I fell and hit my head on the pavement." She reached back and felt the knot on the back of her head, cringing at the matted mess that was her ponytail.
Denise crossed the room, grabbing a book off the mantel over the fireplace. "Hmmm. Any headaches, nausea, vomiting?"
"Um, yeah," replied Sunny. Though her head didn't hurt today.
Flipping through the pages she mumbled to herself before letting the other two women in on her research. "Possible concussion. That would explain the symptoms."
"Well, now that we have that figured out. Your name's Darcy, right?" asked Tara.
Sunny nodded, glad someone had relayed that lie back to her. She needed to concentrate. She could possibly be Darcy for a long time. Whatever info she gave, she needed to be able to commit to the part she was going to play.
"So, you wanna take a shower?" Tara continued.
"She needs to rest and be still." Denise glared at Tara before continuing to skim her medical textbook.
"She needs to wash that shit off of her. She will rest better if she doesn't smell like a week-old walker that died in a port-a-potty." Tara faced Sunny, "You don't want to smell bad, do you, Darcy?"
"Tara!" Denise looked mortified. She glanced apologetically at Sunny.
"It's okay," Sunny said. "I would really like a shower, please. I've been still for 18 hours. I'll be fine."
"Probably have to pee pretty bad too, huh." Tara laughed. "Denise pumped you full of fluid-
"You were dehydrated," Denise interjected as she wrote on her clipboard.
"I'm surprised you didn't bust on that table." Tara helped you to your feet. "Let's get you to the bathroom and some freaking candles lit in this room. Open the windows, Denise." She laughed and nudged Sunny a little. "Don't worry, we've all been the stinky kid in class at one point. No one lives in this world and doesn't get covered in blood and brains."
Tara opened the door to a large bedroom towards the back of the house. She led Sunny through the room to the en suite. The bathroom was nothing short of luxurious. Marble countertops, a large bathtub with jets, and a walk-in shower. Sunny noticed her bag on the floor and a clean change of clothes sitting on the edge of the tub. Inside the walk-in closet, there were shelves of toiletries, towels, and other necessities.
"Grab some soap and shampoo. I would say we're trying to conserve, but you might need a lot to get that shit out of your hair. Here's a comb. Toothbrushes are down there. If you need some lady products grab a handful. Our supply of tampons and pads are dwindling so you might as well enjoy them while we still have them." Tara awkwardly looked around the small space then took a few steps backward shooting finger guns in Sunny's direction. "So...I guess I'll leave you to it."
"Thanks," said Sunny. She felt overwhelmed and still tired even though she just slept 18 hours.
She stared at the shelves. There were several bottles of shampoo and conditioner. She smelled a couple before just choosing random scents. It didn't matter what smells she chose. No one cared what she smelled like as long as it wasn't eau de corpse anymore.
She decided to grab a handful of tampons but then opted for a menstrual cup. It would last years. She should be due soon. She knocked over a pregnancy test as she picked up the box for the cup.
Standing alone in the closet, Sunny tried to remember when her last period was. Time was a hard concept to keep track of when every day was the same. She kept track on a physical calendar at home for that reason. But she left it in her house when she moved to The Sanctuary.
Okay, the last time you had a period was when Negan left for 3 weeks before you moved. You were at The Sanctuary for 3 weeks and you've been walking for almost 2 weeks. Sunny froze as she counted on her fingers. Shit. Shit. Shit. It's been-what-8 weeks. Two months.
Sunny shoved her items back on the shelf. She couldn't believe she was about to do what she was about to do. In a panic, she grabbed a pregnancy test. Ripping it open, she read the directions as she walked into the water closet. Her hands shook as she took the test.
No. No. No. she chanted in her head. But no matter how much she wished for it, there was no denying the two pink lines that appeared within a few minutes. The longest minutes of her life.
Her body felt like it was on autopilot. She turned the shower on then gathered her supplies. Stripping out of her filthy, crusty clothes and taking down her ponytail, she stepped into the hot water. She watched blood and dirt run down her body, gathering at her feet before flowing down the drain.
How could she be so stupid? Why hadn't pregnancy even occurred to her? Had she learned nothing from all the crappy teen movies and shows about the importance of safe sex? Apparently, not.
Tears fell from her eyes, running down her cheeks, mixing with the water pouring over her. She hoped the sound of the shower masked her sobs. The hot water relaxed her sore muscles. She lathered shampoo through her hair, working the bubbles to her scalp.
Did she even want to bring a child into this world? It's too late to think about that. She was going to, whether she wanted to or not. There were no other options. No abortions or adoption. No hospitals or epidurals even. Would she survive? Would the baby? What would happen if they didn't? She scrubbed her body with a bar of soap and washcloth. Pausing over her lower abdomen. What was she going to do?
And Negan. Fuck. Did she tell him? Would he care after she had run away? Would he want a baby? Or would he find someone else? Several someones?
After washing and rinsing several times, until her skin was pink and the water ran clear, she turned off the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around her body and another around her head twisting it on top of her head.
She took the test and trash from the box and shoved them in her bag. No one needed to know. She was only going to be here for a few weeks. She would be gone long before anyone saw any evidence of her condition.
She found a trash bag under the sink and threw her old clothes inside of it. There was no hope for them. She got dressed in the t-shirt and jeans that were left for her. They were a little too big for her but she supposed that worked out in her favor. It would raise suspicion if she asked for bigger clothes soon after arriving.
Sunny left the bathroom. Crossing that threshold felt like she was entering a different world. She was no longer alone. No longer only responsible for herself. Everything she did now affected someone else. The world was infinitely scarier now.
"Holy shit!" Tara said with a slow whistle. "You clean up real good. Are you hungry, Darcy?"
Sunny nodded. She worried another wave of nausea would overcome her, but her stomach growled, and she wasn't the only one that needed nourishment now.
"Kitchen's through here." Tara turned and walked away.
Sunny followed, looking at all the rooms that looked like they were professionally decorated. Everything was coordinated and looked as though it came directly from a showroom floor. It made her miss her mismatched home even more. What they had was hardly trendy, but it was welcoming and it didn't make her feel like she shouldn't touch anything. She sat across a small circle table from Tara. Denise was already in the kitchen dishing out something into three bowls.
"Carol made a casserole. She would have stuck around, but you're supposed to be in quarantine until we can make sure you're fine. I swear she can take the most random ingredients and make them into something good." She set a bowl in front of Sunny.
Sunny inhaled. She smelled ranch and chicken. There looked to be rice and probably a cream of something soup. It looked good after almost 2 weeks of progressively stale peanut butter sandwiches and protein bars. She took a bite, thankful her queasiness seemed at bay for now.
The two women chatted with each other, seemingly nonplussed that Sunny wasn't trying to keep up or join in. They talked about runs people were on, supplies they hoped they could find, gossip about a teen seen sneaking out of another's bedroom window, and the weather.
Finally, Denise turned to Sunny. "It's normal for newcomers to be quiet for a while. It takes some getting used to living like this again. Once you're cleared, we'll have to find you a place to live."
A place to live. A new home. New identity. New life.
A commotion came from the street. Tara and Denise rushed to the front of the home. Sunny followed in their wake. Trucks were pulling up and parking outside.
"Shit!" yelled Tara. "They're early." She checked her weapon to make sure it was loaded. "I'll be back soon. You two stay here." She ran out the front door.
Denise drew the curtains then peeked out the window.
"Who's here?" Sunny asked. The change in the atmosphere was unsettling. Denise, who had been smiling not minutes before, looked scared and nervous.
"The Saviors," she whispered.
Warnings- Angst. So so much angst. Some violence and gore in the form of walker attacks. Pregnancy. I mean, are we really shocked? Probably not. Negative thoughts about pregnancy. Mentions of abortion, adoption, and other pregnancy-related concerns. I know pregnancy and babies are not everyone's cup of tea. So, I wanted to forewarn those that dislike or are triggered by these topics.