WILDFIRE PART 2
It might just be the heat exhaustion but it felt like the sun had intensified its deadly rays upon Rick and Shane. It's almost like they were food inside an oven that was to be cooked to a golden brown. They were sweating profusely through their clothes and their shirts were drenched, covered in thick Georgia red clay from digging graves since early morning. Overall though, they were thankful for Jim for doing most of the work beforehand. They thought the man had lost his mind and randomly started to dig for no reason, surprised to find out that wasn't the case.
It had been a long night and people were still recovering from the shock of the horde that passed through. Their losses were incredible and knowing that they lost manpower was concerning, despite gaining a new member. Natasha. Her skills were useful and her outside knowledge about their surroundings may actually be crucial for them to make it out of this rock prison alive. They might be able to find another place to lie low if the CDC doesn't work out, which Rick was hoping wasn't the case. They need to find some sort of structure, not for Jim's sake alone, but for everyone.
They wanted to know if the old world was still around and hadn't been devoured yet.
Rick stuck his shovel into the thick clay and sighed. He stopped and glanced to his right towards Shane. "Say it," he abruptly said.
Shane had a look about him that knew what his buddy meant. "Okay. I'm thinking if you'd of stayed here, if you'd have looked after your own. Instead, you went off. You took half our manpower with you. I'm thinking maybe our losses wouldn't have been so bad," he said to him, clear and simple and making a point.
Rick could see where he was coming from but still couldn't totally agree with him. "If we hadn't gone off and brought those guns back when we did, I think our losses would have been a lot worse. Maybe the entire camp."
Shane looked like he wanted to say more with the way he tightened his jaw. Probably to call him an idiot for leaving, but he didn't say anything like that. He simply just changed the subject to take his mind off things and calm down. "So who's the girl?" He groaned and soon went back to digging holes.
Rick cocked a brow before going back to work too. "Natasha. She helped us out back in Atlanta. She seems to know what she's doing, so I invited her back to camp."
"She knows how to use a gun?"
"Sure looks that way," Rick shrugged. "Her fiancé was military so I think he might've shown her how to use one."
Shane nodded his head and leaned against his shovel, looking pleased for once. "That's good. We need more people here anyways."
"That's what I thought. She smart and most importantly...she's calm, which is a rare quality that not many people have nowadays."
"Man, you can say that again."
Natasha couldn't stop her worry and sat patiently by the RV that Amy's cold body laid next to. It's been more than just a couple hours now since she died and got bit, and the whole time, Andrea was still motionlessly sitting next to her. The young woman's eyes were glazed over and it looked like she had dropped off from reality. Not completely though since she was still conscious enough to point a gun at Rick when he tried to take Amy's body, or talk to Dale when he came over to console her.
They physically couldn't take Amy away and that's what was worrying Natasha. Just out of pure concern for some of the people here, she stayed close by to make sure Amy didn't come back and attack her sister. It shouldn't be long now though and it was only a matter of time, less then an hour, she predicted.
Natasha's hands were tucked across her chest but her fingers were only inches away from her pistol. Its safety was off and ready to fire if needed. She was hard-pressed to do it though and didn't want to be the one to abruptly pull the trigger and further traumatize anyone, but survival was more important than feelings now, unfortunately.
She felt her whole body shudder with the near sound of something breaking through a skull. Natasha peered over her shoulder and heaved a bit when she saw Daryl bring his pickaxe down once more over the head of someone's body. She shut her eyes tightly when he moved on to another one.
He was about to bring his pickaxe down again when Carol came up behind him and stopped him with a gentle hand. Her eyes were red and she was sniffling back tears. "I'll do it," she said weakly. "He's my husband."
Daryl looked hesitant about that and Natasha turned her head back around when she heard Carol's voice. He handed the pick over and watched her struggle to bring the heavy thing over her shoulder. She swung down vigorously right over the half-chewed corpse of her husband and punctured his head. Blood poured out from the hole when she yanked the end out, only to bring it down again just as swift and hard. She cried out in frustration and proceeded to let her anger out over his body until his head was totally obliterated.
Natasha's skin turned green with shivers running all over her. She promptly sucked in a deep breath and used the front of her shirt to cover her nose from the smell. After Carol was done venting out her frustration, she walked away. "What was that...?" Natasha walked over to Daryl as he reached down and pulled the pick back up.
He looked just as grim as she did. "That was Ed, her prick of a husband," he answered back gruffly.
They both stared down at the body that had mostly been eaten by Walkers at this point with nothing much remaining. There were teeth marks all over him with pieces of flesh torn right off.
Natasha bit the inside of her cheek and glanced over to Carol. "Abusive?" She had picked up on the odd signs from her a while back. She looked like a timid woman, almost like a frightened mouse running away from large shadows.
Daryl briefly shook his head before swinging the pick over his shoulder. "Yeah." He turned around fast and was getting ready to walk off when he called back to her. "And get ready. You're gonna help with stacking all these bodies on the truck."
"Alright." She figured the faster they put the dead to rest, the easier things will be. If only a little, at least.
There was a sound coming from behind her, faint but struggling to breathe through blood drowned lungs. It was a noise that made Natasha immediately snap her head around and stare downwards. Amy was waking up. Her skin was ghostlike and there was slight movement in her muscles, ominous and unnatural twitching. Amy's eyes fell open but they were milky with deep red veins filling in the whites. She looked up at Andrea as Natasha slowly moved up behind them, prepared for the worse.
"Amy. Amy, I'm sorry," Andrea spoke through quivered breaths. She held onto her sister as her groans worsened, becoming more ferocious and guttural. "I'm sorry for not ever being there. I always thought there would be more time." She reached her gun around to Amy's head and sucked in a deep breath. "I'm here now, Amy. I'm here. I love you."
That single gunshot made Natasha freeze and stand there in place, frozen with her arm still in a position to grab her own pistol. Her eyes widened and she let out a breath when she saw Amy go limp once more and stay that way. Andrea just sat there and remained silent and unresponsive to everything. She hunched over her sister's body and continued to weep over her loss.
Natasha's head was swimming in the clouds while Daryl drove the truck backwards up the hill to the burial site. She sat quietly on the bed with the rest of the cloth-wrapped bodies with her scarf back around her face to save herself from the ever-worsening stench of the dead. She wondered how many times she had seen people pulled from their loved ones, ripped from their hands to never talk or see them again. Like Andrea and Amy. It was something she had witnessed a thousand times already but still hadn't become desensitized to it yet. She was glad about that though, to know that some humanity remained intact. It was a good thing but also caused fear to raise up, the fear that one day she might stop caring.
Life had always been fleeting even before the world went to ruins, but now just being alive had become flammable. Easily burned and easily lost.
"Hey, you're back there for a reason!" Daryl shouted back when Natasha went quiet. "Am I good?"
Her steel eyes fell down to the floor. She raised her hand and alerted him to stop. "Oh! You're good here!" she answered and the truck came to a quick halt.
Daryl opened the door and jumped out, walking up to Shane and Rick who just got done digging the holes for the dead. The rest of the camp was walking up the hill too. "I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"
"At first," Shane said.
"The Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are."
"There are no rules," Rick said and saw the uneasiness in his wife's eyes.
Her voice was low, struggling to hold back her emotions behind clenched teeth. "Well, that's a problem. We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do." She took in a shuddered breath and grabbed her son's shoulders, squeezing them tightly.
"We have this time right now. A couple of minutes," Natasha's voice broke through the group of grieving people. She had distanced herself from everyone and stood in the back, arms crossed over her chest, and holding a solemn look on her weathered face. "I don't think we'll have moments like this anymore...to have time to grieve over our losses. Which is why you should take the time you have right now and hold onto it." Her voice was soft, considerate, and understanding. They took her words to heart and proceeded along with the burial.
They were all still strangers to each other but that doesn't really matter anymore. They had one thing in common that sets them all on equal ground. They had losses. Some were smaller than most and others were unparalleled, but the pain was all the same with the bodies that were buried that day. Strangers or not. The living standing beside them was all they had left now.
The whole time, Natasha stood apart from them. She watched silently from the treeline with clouded eyes made from unmatched sorrow. Something stirred inside those same eyes though. A strain of some sort. She was looking straight at them but her gaze seemed to wander beyond that. Like her attention was somewhere else.
After the funeral, Rick, Natasha, and Lori went to Dale's RV to check up on Jim. He's been there ever since and had Carol been looking after him. He didn't look good though and it seemed that his condition had worsened since they last saw him. He had turned pale with buckets of sweat running off his face and his injury had become infected too. Blood started to seep through the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Natasha shouldn't be surprised by this result but it still made her clench up with pain and worry for the poor man.
Carol tried her best to wipe the sweat off his forehead but it pained her to see him become so sick in such a short amount of time. She could recall Natasha saying that the change was different for everyone but she never imagined that it would be this quick for him. "His fever is worse," she said.
Lori gazed sadly upon Jim's state. "You need anything?"
Jim blinked a couple of times to think of something. "Uh…water. Could use more water," he said, terribly weak and aching.
"I'll get some."
"Okay."
Lori reached and gestured out to Carol. "Carol, you help me?" she offered and left the RV with her.
Rick sat down and Natasha just stood in the back as usual. She noticed that Jim's eyes were focused on her though.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said suddenly
Natasha cocked a brow and looked puzzled. "What exactly did I do?"
Jim was slow with his words and struggled to come up with something cohesive. He knew it would probably be best to not talk but he just needed to say something to her. Something important. "It's not exactly what you did...it's, uh, what you said. About people not yet callous enough to...kill a man. Even though I should have a grave out there."
Natasha's lips parted and she looked troubled for a moment before smiling. "It's pretty harsh to have a grave prepared for someone who isn't dead yet." She wanted to sound light-hearted since the topic of death was still too hard for her.
Jim burned his eyes into her though, a knowing look on his face. "You know what's gonna happen to me though. You've seen it. I know you've had, but...you're still not willing to lose yourself...to lose...what people use to be."
She slowly felt her lips turned down into a saddened look when she finally realized what he was rambling about. "It doesn't matter what the world is right now. I'm only doing what people should be doing."
A hint of a small smile crossed his overly pale face. He looked pleased by what she said. "That's good. Yeah...it is." His words soon drifted off. "You should...you should hold onto that."
Natasha felt her heart sting before answering him, studdering. "I will...don't worry."
Jim began to groan heavily before he started to cough. Rick was quick to act and gestured Natasha to bring a bucket over. She handed one to Jim for him to spit in. Spit up blood, actually. He leaned his head back and bobbled it side to side. His words slurred together and it was like he was speaking in riddles. "Watch the mangroves. Their roots will gouge the whole boat. You know that, right? Amy is there swimming." He turned to them and began to plea. "You'll watch the boat, right?"
Rick was bewildered at what Jim as talking about and Natasha was just as confused. Even she didn't have answers for his strange delirious behavior.
Rick didn't know what to do and pulled Natasha close before speaking to Jim, talking as earnestly as he could. "Don't worry. We'll watch the boat"
Jim nodded and head and looked relieved. "Okay."
"So how's Jim?" Dale trailed behind Natasha while they made a small sweep through the woods, making sure there wasn't anything lurking within the overgrowth. Rick and Shane were out there too looking around on the other side of the camp. After what happened last night, no one was willing to take the chance of the undead still being in the area.
Natasha sighed when she spoke but chose to answer him honestly. "Sorry to say but he's not doing good. He's getting sick fast and I really don't know how much time he has left."
Dale's face fell. "Jesus."
She cocked a brow and glanced over her shoulder at him. "I'm not sure he'll help us anymore either."
That comment threw him off guard. "You're not religious?"
Natasha stopped and turned fully to face him, pulling her hood and scarf down in the process. She seemed uncertain and really appeared to be putting a great deal of thought into her words. "Well...I never gave it much thought to begin with. I might've believed at one point, I don't remember though. It felt like such a long time ago."
Dale walked up beside her and continued their sweep. "Yeah...It does. How long has it been? Two months? Three?" he muttered because he still wasn't sure himself.
"Feels longer, doesn't it?" She brought her hand over her eyes like a visor and scanned the forest to pierce the thick trees and bushes. "I do believe that there's a higher power out there, watching us right now while the world burns. I just don't think he cares anymore if he's gonna prolong this."
"You don't think we can get the world back to the way it was?"
"Maybe if I hadn't seen Atlanta go up in flames a few months back, then maybe I would have thought thinks differently." The sharpness of her blunt answer and voice was almost painful to hear. "But no. I think we're on our own."
"What about the CDC? It feels like a pretty good start. We might be able to save Jim?" Dale turned his head up and saw Natasha giving him an odd look. "You look doubtful."
She sighed and pushed ahead a bit to retake the lead. "Sorry. I want to believe that things can be fixed...that we can save Jim. I just have a hard time believing that."
Dale suddenly stopped walking and drew Natasha's attention back on him. He looked troubled about something. About what she said. "That's pretty strange coming from you. Hey, you stopped Daryl from killing Jim and you help Rick and them get out of Atlanta too. I thought you would be more optimistic." He then stopped himself when he realized he was judging her right to her face, despite only knowing her for a day. "Sorry. I think I said too much." he apologized quickly.
Much to his surprise, she did answer him back in her usual calm-as-water voice, expressing her honest feeling to him. "We're all still human, Dale, and I don't want people to forget that. But I also feel like we should be realistic. If you think about it, we're slowly being outnumbered by the dead, and I don't want people to go around killing each other. It won't do us any good." Her lips turned up hopefully but her unsteady voice didn't match. "People...are a resource, you know?"
Dale tilted his head and thought it over. Natasha was more level-headed then he thought and she did make a valid point, as hard as it may sound. "I guess you're right," he replied and groaned.
They continued their walk until they finally met back up with Shane. Something was eerie about him though. He didn't seem to notice them yet and had his shotgun raised out in front of him, aiming at something in the distance that was slightly obscured by the trees. He was aiming his gun at Rick. Shane looked like he was struggling with the decision though and was breathing heavily, his heart racing and arms shaking. He finally took in a sharp gasp and lowered his gun, turning around and noticing Natasha and Dale staring at him, having to have witnessed the whole thing.
Natasha scoffed. "Huh." She turned her nose up and narrowed her eyes skeptically but was still perfectly calm.
Shane chuckled and looked away from her heavy eyes, pretending like they didn't just catch him pointing a gun at his friend. "You were out here too?"
"Yeah...sorry we didn't tell you," she said slowly, eyes still like icy darts.
"Nat, we're gonna have to start wearing reflective vests out here. Seriously." He raised his voice and called out to Rick, whistling loudly. "Come on, man. let's go. Nothing out here." He glanced back to Natasha and Dale one more time before walking off.
It was subtle but not without notice by them. The way Shane looked when he had his sights on Rick. There was a shift in his eyes, a cold one that was very much deadly. It was unsettling and Natasha really did wonder if Shane was willing to pull the trigger.
"Natasha-" Dale began but she quickly cut him off by waving her arm.
"Yeah, I know. I'll watch out for him." She sighed deeply and rolled her eyes to the back of her head. Now having to worry about something other then Walkers.
