A/N:
Hi everyone :) I am sooooo sorry about the delay in posting this chapter but, I hope it was worth the wait :)
Unfortunately, I start school on the 5th and I am currently in the midst of six but, I have rewritten it about 3 times so far because, of stupid writters block. I wont be able to update that frequently anymore (not that my updates were frequent to begin with) but, I will try my hardest to update as soon as I can.
I will never give up on this fanfic bc I love it way too much, but, I might take a while updating the chapters.
so sorry for that :(
Again I would like to thank all of you for your fablous support and for reading this fic. I love you all :)
And also I have to thank my fantastic beta for her beautiful editing.
Sigh I think this AN is longer than the actual story lol, sorry about that. Anywhoo, on with the show :D
Arya perched herself upon a large oak tree. She had wandered off from the rest of the group when they started making Bran's funeral arrangements. She did not want to be there when they buried him. A funeral had such finality to it- Bran was dead, and there was nothing she could do to change that. But Arya wasn't ready to say goodbye to him just yet.
She heard people yelling for her when she ran off. Arya had no idea what they said- their words were incoherent to her ears. They probably wanted her to stay for the funeral. They chased her for a while until Yoren commanded everyone to just let her be. Gendry argued, stating that Arya should be there when they bury her little brother, but Yoren disagreed. They only had a couple of hours before the sun went down, and it was either bury Bran now, or leave his body for Walker chow. Arya was thankful that Yoren called off the others; she couldn't bear to face any one of them right now. She couldn't even stand to look at Rickon; his resemblance to Bran was uncanny. The last thing Arya needed was to dwell on the recent events in regards to her younger brother.
Arya ran away from the group, wanting to distance herself from everyone else. She did not want to be anywhere near that funeral. She did not want to hear the sound of digging nor did she want to hear any tears that were shed. She did not want to think about the funeral at all. She was out of breath from running so fast yet she did not slow her pace. She didn't care that her lungs were practically on fire; in fact, the pain helped- it momentarily distracted her from any thoughts of Bran and the Walkers.
Arya ran until she came across a large oak tree. She did not know what possessed her to climb the tree; the only thing she knew was that she had too. Some of the bark on the tree was slashed and the pattern of bark made it appear as if the tree had a face. It looked to be...crying. Arya only thought it deemed appropriate that she should chose this tree to inhabit herself in.
She climbed the branches, all the while hearing Bran's voice in her head, instructing her on the proper techniques of climbing. When Arya reached the top, she cried. A stream of endless tears fell down her swollen cheeks. She did not find it appropriate to cry in front of the others. Other than Rickon, no one else loved Bran like she did. For all she knew, the others just considered Bran to be a nuisance and another mouth to feed.
Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true. Maybe they did care for Bran. It was possible that the others thought of him as a friend, but, they most definitely did not love her brother, and they did not know him either- not like she did. It seemed wrong for them to grieve with her.
After she felt like she had cried all her tears, Arya slumped against the trunk. Her body fit perfectly into the grooves of the tree. It was as if she was meant to be here.
Arya laid her head upon the massive branch of the oak tree. The bark was rough against her skin, but for once, Arya did not mind the pain. She barely even felt it. She had cried herself out long ago and there were no more tears to be shed. She no longer felt sad or angry. She felt nothing. No thoughts were flowing through her brain; she just silently watched the landscape in front of her. It was like she wasn't even there anymore. Arya Stark was now just an empty shell; the wild soul that once inhabited her body was now dead.
Arya watched the vibrant colours of the sky before her. The sun was setting and night would settle in much sooner than she would have liked. She knew the smart thing to do was run back to the shed before the sun fully set, yet she could not bring herself to do so. At this point, she no longer cared about anything. Even if the Walkers found her and attacked, she would not resist them. She had welcomed death with open arms. She wanted everything to be over. No matter how much she tried to bury the pain, it was still gnawing away deep inside her soul. The pain consumed her, pulling her into an abyss of darkness that she could not escape from. Soon, all her emotions began pouring over her, engulfing her in a stream of endless pain.
Arya wrapped her arms over her legs. Her entire body was shaking, and no matter how hard she tried to hold herself together, she could not. It wasn't fair. She should have died, not Bran. It was her own carelessness that had brought death upon her brother. She should have picked up the smell before she jumped inside the shed. She should have inspected the shed before bringing her brother inside. She should have known anything could have been hiding behind those boxes. She should have done a lot of things. But she didn't. She failed to protect her brother; she failed to fulfil her father's final wish. Most importantly, she failed herself.
Arya heard her name being called out in the distance. Why were they looking for her? Why did they even care? Why couldn't they just let her be? The voices grew louder and Arya flinched at their proximity. She shifted her gaze to the ground beneath her and saw a large man shouting her name - Gendry.
Arya momentarily considered replying his call but decided against it. Unfortunately, when she shifted back into the grooves of the tree, the leaves rustled, betraying her whereabouts.
"Arya?" She heard Gendry's voice call.
Shit. Arya shifted her gaze to the ground and she saw that Gendry had spotted her. His expression was neither surprised or angry; he looked to be filled with remorse.
"Come down, Arya," he begged. "Please," he added for good measure.
"Go away," Arya snapped rather harshly.
Gendry did not shift his position- he was much too stubborn to take no for an answer, so he stood his ground. "The sun will set any minute now; we have to get inside."
Why did he talk to her like she was an idiot? She lost her brother, not her mind. She could see that sun was setting and she knew the consequences of staying outside after dark. " We don't have to do anything. You can go, if you're afraid."
Gendry arched an eyebrow at her. "Don't think Walkers can climb?" he asked. Arya shrugged her shoulders. "Even if they can't, you'll fall asleep eventually, and then you'll fall off. If the fall won't kill you, the Walkers will." Arya didn't respond. She just stared blankly at the landscape, avoiding Gendry's gaze. She heard Gendry sigh. "And what about the kid? Rickon just lost a brother; you want him to lose a sister as well?"
Arya bit her lip. During her breakdown, she forgot completely about Rickon. She had already failed one brother; she couldn't fail the other one as well. Gendry was right. Of course he was right; she had to live for Rickon. Now that she really thought about it, Arya did not want to die; she was terrified of death. "I can't go back," Arya mumbled. The shed was no longer a viable option for her. It was the place where Bran died and the memories of the attack would continue to torment her as long as she kept living there.
Gendry frowned. He was not upset or angry by her statement; it was almost as if he understood. "I suppose we could sleep outside." Gendry offered. "It won't be as safe as the shed, but the others can have their sanctuary. I'll stay out here on Walker watch with you. We can find a new shelter tomorrow."
Arya furrowed her eyebrows. She did not understand why Gendry was willing to risk his life for her. They had known each other for only four months; surely it was not for the mere reason that he cared for her. Arya was willing to sacrifice herself for Rickon, but not for Gendry, nor any of the others. He was probably just more egotistical than she thought; after all, he had survived without a shelter for three years. What was another day to him? Arya did not know if she would survive the night without a safe haven. She surely could not sleep with the threat of Walkers looming about. Arya was at an impasse; the shed or the outdoors.
"One night." Arya stated. "Just one night, and then I'm leaving."
Gendry nodded, seemingly relived by her suggestion. "One night," he agreed.
Arya quickly shimmied down the tree. Once she was a reasonable distance away from the ground, she jumped. Arya was not surprised that Gendry caught her, but unlike all the other times, he immediately set her to her feet.
As soon as Gendry placed her feet firmly to the ground, they both broke into a run. Arya pushed her feet as far as they would go, knowing the threat of nightfall was hanging over their heads. The vibrant colours in the sky had known disappeared and all that was left was a stormy dark blue horizon. They were too late. Night had fallen.
On cue, five Walkers emerged from the clearing and began heading their direction. Arya froze. The machete was still attached to her hip but she made no move to retrieve it. She stared dumbly at the monsters in front of her. She was frightened and it clearly showed. One Walker was closing in on her but Arya could not find a way to move her muscles. She was in a state of shock, temporarily freezing her entire body.
Gendry came from behind her and swung his bat at the Walkers, killing three monsters in three seconds. The other two were still coming towards him. He momentarily paused the attack to shout a word. "Run!" he commanded. Gendry broke her out of her trance. Arya stared at him from a few moments before she turned her back to him and ran. She did not want to die and her only hope was to make it to the shelter now. Four more Walkers emerged from her right and began making their way towards Gendry.
Arya chewed on her bottom lip. She did not think Gendry could take six Walkers on his own, and who knew how many more would come. She stared at the path ahead of her. She could see the outline of the shelter not far from her current spot. There were no Walkers in that present area; she could quickly run to the shed, and the others would let her in, and she'd live. It was a simple choice. Or, at least it should have been a simple choice.
She turned to look at Gendry behind her, who was now taking on all six Walkers at once. He seemed to be struggling with the enemies before him. His jaw was clenched and she could see the strain in his biceps with every swing he took. For every Walker he would kill, two more arrived at the scene in its place.
It was Arya's fault that Gendry was battling the Walkers. If she hadn't run away, both Arya and Gendry, along with the remaining five members of the group, would now be safely concealed in the shed grieving over Bran. But Arya had been stupid enough to leave the shed so close to sundown, leaving her vulnerable to the Walkers. The others scurried off to the shed, abandoning her and leaving her to fend for herself but Gendry came back. The easy way out would have been not to come back for her. Any sane person would done so, yet he didn't. He may have been stupid and bull-headed, but he did come back for her. And now, he was going to lose his life for it.
Arya sighed and watched the battle before her. Gendry was struggling with the Walkers. She could see there was less strength behind his hits; it was evident that he was growing tired. Just run, stupid, Arya chastised herself. He was the idiot who told you to run in the first place, so run. He's not worth risking your life over. Though Arya tried convincing herself to run to safety, she could not leave Gendry behind. Not when he had saved her.
Arya began running towards Gendry and the other Walkers. She unsheathed her machete and charged the two closest to her. Blood splattered across her face when she killed both Walkers. She had swung her machete a little harder than she intended to, which did not only kill both Walkers, but decapitated one of them as well. Her arms did not feel sore after she struck down both enemies; perhaps it was because she was growing stronger, or perhaps it was the adrenaline flowing through her blood.
She saw Gendry, who was surrounded by four Walkers. The one behind him charged but Arya saw to him before he could attack her friend. She swung her machete, denting the Walkers skull. The creature immediately slumped to the ground, laying dead by her feet. It seemed Gendry did not notice her presence until that very moment. His face and clothes were submerged with blood. He smelled foul, like his body was decaying, though that smell was probably just the residue from the Walkers. He stared at her with shock, momentarily forgetting the enemies around him before one of the Walkers attacked. Automatically, Gendry swung his baseball bat and the fight resumed.
Arya and Gendry made quick work of the Walkers before them but more came emerging from the woods. This was impossible- there was no way they could fight all of them. She could hear Gendry panting beside her, and Arya was tiring out as well. They could only keep this up for maybe ten or fifteen more minutes but they definitely would not be able to survive the entire night with these unnatural beings.
The pistol was still strapped to her hip. Three bullets remained inside the shell; again, they were not enough to kill the Walkers before her but she could use them to kill herself and Gendry. She didn't have another option; the Walkers would overpower them, and it was either die now, or turn. Arya put away her machete and grabbed Needle. You can do this, Stark. Just pull the trigger.
But she couldn't. No matter how much Arya tried to convince herself otherwise, she did not want to die. Not today. She couldn't die today. Arya heard a rustle in the bushes to her left. At first, she thought it was another army of Walkers but, a pair of antlers caught her eye. It was a deer! A big one as well; rich with meat and proteins and nutrients. Arya quickly formed a plan in her head. A gunshot would no doubt attract a large sum of Walkers to her current area but Arya could not think about that right now. There was only one motive in her mind right now, and that was survival.
She pointed Needle directly at the deer. She had one shot to make this count. If she missed, the deer would scurry off, and any hopes of Arya's and Gendry's survival would diminish. She had never shot the gun from such a far range before; she wasn't sure if she could shoot her target. But Arya had no other choice at the moment; she had to try.
The Walkers were closing in on her. She saw Gendry battling them in the corner of her eye. He did not seem to notice what she was attempting. Perhaps he was too distracted by the enemies before him. Arya aimed the gun, in what she believed was the deer's face. She couldn't be sure if the bullet would pierce her target but she had to try; it was now or never. Arya pulled the trigger, eliciting a rather loud bang. Everyone momentarily stopped what they were doing; the Walkers were confused by the noise, Gendry jumped at the sound of the gun going off and the deer looked up to face his death.
The bullet did not hit where Arya had planned, but it hit the deer nonetheless, right in his left leg. Nice aim, Stark. Her shot had been tremendously off, but at least she was able to wound the deer, if not kill it. Blood began splattering out of its leg, and the animal let out a whine of pain. The sight of fresh blood attracted the Walkers. They temporarily forgot about Gendry and Arya and began running towards the wounded animal. The deer tried running away but was confound in place due to his injury.
Gendry stared at the sight in shock. His mouth had gone slack as he was took the scene in. "Come on," Arya urged, tugging at his arm. This was their only opportunity to escape the Walkers, and they had to take it now.
Gendry gave her a curt nod of his head and they both sprinted towards the shed. As they ran, Arya heard the deer's whines turn into piercing shrieks. Arya flinched; there was no doubt in her mind that the Walkers were eating the deer alive.
Arya arrived at the shed first and began frantically performing her secret knock. Gendry arrived seconds later. He was out of breath, hunched over his knees and panting.
There was no answer. Arya knocked again, but the door remained shut. Arya bit her lip until she tasted blood. Of course they wouldn't open the door; it was her own rule to never unlock the bindings after nightfall. The wails of the deer abruptly ceased and Arya immediately knew that the creature was dead. Arya sighed- it would not take long for the Walkers to devour its carcass and then come searching for Gendry and herself.
Just as Arya had given up hope, she heard a click and a loud clatter of chains tumbling onto the floor. A few seconds later, the trapdoor opened. Arya immediately ran inside the shed without a second thought. Gendry was right behind her and he quickly closed the trapdoor behind him. Frantically, Arya, Gendry, Yoren, Hot Pie, Lommy, Rickon and even Weasel began securing the bindings.
The gunshot had attracted several Walkers to their area. Within minutes, there was clawing and knocking outside the shed. They wanted to get in, and all Arya could do was desperately pray that the bindings were secure. It was not like this hadn't happened before. Occasionally, a Walker would wander off to their shed and attempt to get in but there was never plenty of Walkers to cause a ruckus. Eventually, the Walker would get bored and wander off. However, the gunshot acted as a catalyst, drawing possibly hundreds of Walkers to their shed.
Everyone in the shed was silent, the only sounds echoing through the walls was the steady pattern of breathing of the seven residents. Arya felt something grab her hand and she automatically flinched from the touch. She looked to her right and saw Weasel beside her. She looked up at Arya with tears shimmering in her big green eyes as she made a move to grab her hand once more.
Arya swiped her hand away from the little girl and turned on her. "Stop it!" Arya screamed. At the sound of her voice, the banging on the shed grew louder. "I'm not your fucking mother! Leave me alone!"
Weasel broke out into an endless stream of tears and started wailing. Gendry scooped the little girl in his arms and began rubbing her back, whispering lies. "It's okay. She didn't mean it," he said. But she did mean it. Arya was not Weasel's mom, and she no longer wanted the girl to think of her as one. Rickon was her only priority right now. Everyone else could go to hell for all she cared. No matter how much Gendry tried to reassure her, Weasel would not stop crying. Her wails were so loud that it actually drowned out the chaos occurring outside of the shed.
"Now you've done it girl." Yoren grumbled out.
"What I've done?" Arya demanded.
"Aye, you need to learn to shut yer trap." Yoren instructed.
"Yoren," Gendry warned.
Yoren dismissed his warning. "I get it, you lost your brother today, but don't you think for one moment that you're the only one who's ever lost someone. I lost my brother in this fucking war too. William, his name was. Now you don't see me acting all fucking psychotic, do ya?"
Arya clenched her fists by her side. It took all the willpower she had not to punch Yoren in the face. "I. Am. Not. Acting. Psychotic." Arya spat out through clenched teeth.
"Yes you are!" Yoren was yelling too now. "If it wasn't for your stupid breakdown, Gendry would have never left to go get ya! The seven of us would be safe inside this shed, and we wouldn't be under attack!"
Arya kept her mouth shut after that outburst. Yoren was right. This was her fault. She should never have ventured so far from the shed near sundown, despite the given circumstances. She just didn't know if she could take being confided in this place any longer. Five paces to her right, there was still a dried blood spot from where Gendry killed the Walker on top of her. Ten paces away from that...was the very place where Bran died. Arya's eyes fixated on the spot for a while, images of her little brother dying in the corner bombarding her mind. Arya wondered if there was a heaven. Would Bran be happy right now? At peace? Would he be there with Mother, Father, and possibly the rest of her family? Was it pointless saving herself and Gendry? Would they be happier in the afterlife?
No one slept that night. The Walkers outside their shed seemed to give up after a couple of hours but sleep would not come for anyone. Too much had happened today: Bran had died, she and Gendry almost died, Arya yelled at Weasel and Yoren fought with Arya. The tension in the shed was palpable.
No one had eaten dinner and eventually their biological functions began catching up to them. Hot Pie wordlessly cooked up some food and the rest of the group ate in silence. Arya ate the food without tasting it; she wasn't even aware of what she was eating. It could be pig shit for all she knew but she was too distraught to care.
No one dared go outside to relive themselves. Everyone used the soil bucket, and though Yoren was still mad at Arya, he still had to courtesy to turn away when it was her turn.
No one sat beside Arya in the shed. Even Gendry, who was always on her side, kept his distance. Weasel was huddled in between Lommy and Hot Pie; she was too frightened to even meet Arya's gaze. Arya sighed inwardly; she hadn't meant to yell at Weasel, but she just snapped. Something had changed within her after the death of her brother. She had lost almost all of her family. For all she knew, Rickon was the only other Stark left. She wondered if her brother hated her too now. Arya had not only failed to protect Bran, but her foul mood set off everyone in the shed.
In the middle of the night, Rickon had crawled his way over to her. He sat beside her and shot her a hesitant look. Arya only had to open her arms for him to jump into her embrace. He wept in her arms and she held on to her brother tighter. She could do nothing to console him; she couldn't possibly tell him everything was alright, nor could she promise him his safety. Bran had been one of Arya's top two priorities, and she had let him slip through her fingers.
"I love you," Rickon announced and pressed a wet slobbery kiss on her check.
Arya did not dare wipe of the trickle of salvia flowing down her cheek. She hugged Rickon tighter and brushed her own lips tenderly against his forehead. "I love you too,"
A bright ray of sunlight shone through the door, and Arya knew it was time to say goodbye to the safe haven. She had already packed two large bags with food, water, medicine and weapons. She did not know what to do with herself. She knew the smartest and most logical thing to do was to remain in the shed. Even though the Walkers had infiltrated the shed once, it was still one of the few places that kept her and Rickon safe from the Walkers. It was irresponsible to leave and take Rickon with her. Arya did not even know if there was another alternative to the shed. For all she knew, she would never run into another safe place and she'd be forced to sleep in the wilderness with the threat of Walkers looming about. No matter how much her mind argued that this was a bad idea, her heart would not listen. She wasn't ready for closure just yet, and living the remainder of her days in the place that Bran died would be torturous for both Rickon and herself. Staying was not an option, and, though Arya hated it, she had no other choice but to take her chances outside.
Arya grabbed the larger backpack and swung it over her shoulders. She then grabbed the smaller one and handed it to Rickon.
"And where do you think you're going?" Yoren demanded.
Arya hated his derogatory tone; Yoren was treating her like a child. All the respect he built up for her had quickly evaporated after the little stunt she pulled. "I'm leaving," Arya announced rather harshly.
Yoren's eyes widened and his face softened. It was obvious that he knew she was not leaving on a minor trip around the area. He knew she meant that she was leaving and not coming back. "You don't want to live here anymore." Yoren said. It was more of a statement than a question.
Arya shook her head. "I can't live here anymore," she corrected. Yoren sighed and wiped his face with his large, meaty hand. "You guys only wanted the shed. Well, now it's all yours," Her tone was bitter.
"Now, hold on a second girl, what kind of a man do you think I'd be if I let a little girl and little boy go out there on their own?"
"I'm not a little girl!" Arya yelled. She was a grown up, and she thought she had proved herself to Yoren already. Evidently, his skull was too thick to process any of that information.
"No," Yoren began. "You think you're not a little girl, but ya are, and I'll be damned if I let ya get yerself killed. We're a pack, remember? We stick together."
Arya entertained the thought of Yoren and the others accompanying her. Unlike the first time when they offered to tag along, she saw only the risks and not the benefits from their company. "No," She stated. Yoren and the others were bad influences; their carefree lifestyle led her to take more risks, and look how great that turned out. She had lost one of the only two people she had left. She lost her brother, who she would play with when she was little, who would help her pull pranks on Robb, Jon and Sansa, whom would cover for her when she did something particularly dangerous or bad. She had lost her best friend.
Yoren and Arya stared at each other for a long hard moment. He eventually tore his gaze away but Arya did not waver. She had to show him that she was adamant with her decision and would not be swayed easily. "Oi! You sorry sons of whores! Grab all yer shit; we're leaving!" Yoren shouted.
Arya was fuming. She could not see herself, but she could practically feel steam coming out of her ears. "Now don't ya give me that look," Yoren wagged a finger in her face. "You haven't been out there in a while. Things have changed, and it's for the worst. Remember what happened to ya yesterday? Don't ya think for one second that won't happen again. Ya need back-up, and no matter how feisty and strong ya think ya are, yer stupid if ya think you can handle all them Walkers by yerself. Now, we'll follow yer rules this time, and I'll force 'em all to listen. That includes me too, but, I'm not letting ya go out there on yer own."
Arya did not understand Yoren's motive behind his decision. He was simply putting his life in danger in order to ensure her and Rickon's safety. She did not understand why this group cared a lot for each other; in the real world, they would never even be considered friends. Everyone was just so different from the rest: Yoren was the big scary man that any sane person would avoid, Gendry was an athletic 'catch' that all the stupid Sansa-like girls would fawn over, Hot Pie was the fat nerd that liked to cook, Lommy was the bully with the hunting hobby, Rickon was the whiny temperamental boy that no one wanted to play with, Weasel was the shy and sweet little girl, and Arya... well, Arya was the misfit. She was the freak, the horse-face, the wild girl. Arya was the person that no one would have ever considered a friend in real life. The socially awkward boy trapped inside a girl's body. The girl who preferred playing sports (especially fencing) over going shopping. She was temperamental, stubborn and a downright bitch at times. In the real world, none of these people would want to be her friend. It was the reason why she had no friends. So why did this group work so well together when the world had come to an end? How could this group of seven polar opposites actually work effectively with one another to survive?
Arya knew she needed the others. Rickon had never faced a Walker before and she could not face all those zombies on her own. She watched the scene in front of her. Everyone was packing up their stuff and exiting the shed; there was no question, no protest, no second look back at their safe haven. They were a pack, and a pack stuck together.
Arya removed the bindings and stored them in one of the shopping carts. They kept her alive for this long- surely they would be of use in their new safe haven. Once they exited the shed, the smell of rotting flesh hit them like a pile of bricks. The stench was awful; blood, entrails and other substances coated the grass they walked on. As they made their way into the forest, Arya spotted the deer carcass to her right. The Walkers had not spared even the tiniest slab of meat. All that was left of the poor animal was a large pile of bones. That could have been Gendry, Arya thought. She glanced up at the large man on her right. His coal black hair was clinging to his face again and there were bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. Her stomach did a little flip as she looked up at the older man. She momentarily imagined what it would be like waking up to find his bones on disregarded on the forest floor. Her stomach knotted at the thought and Arya felt like she was going to retch last night's dinner.
Her gunshot had attracted many Walkers to the area, and even though it was now daylight, many of the creatures still lingered. The group did not go ten minutes without running into at least one Walker, but normally they would come in groups of four to six. Arya's arms were sore after only a couple of hours into their journey. She mentally thanked Yoren and the others for accompanying her. Arya did not think she could handle all this on her own. Gendry was a powerhouse, killing Walkers left, right and centre. Yoren wasn't bad either, and even Lommy seemed to be handling things better than her.
The journey proved to be uneventful. They did not come across any forms of shelter. Yoren suggested heading to one of the grocery stores but Arya refused. She wanted to stay as far away from the city as possible.
Hot Pie was the first to complain. "I'm tired, cold and hungry. No one slept last night, and it's already dark. Why can't we just take a break?"
"We have to get as far away from the shed as possible," Arya replied coldly.
"Why?" Hot Pie whined.
Arya resisted the urge to thwack him upside the head. She had yelled at Weasel last night, and Arya did not think beating up Hot Pie would sit well with the others. "Because, I shot the stupid gun. The Walkers were attracted to the noise, and there are probably hundreds of them lingering around that area. The more distance we put away from the shed, the less Walkers we'll run into."
"Might be the boy's right. We should take a break." Yoren piped up.
Hot Pie sighed in relief but Arya glared daggers at Yoren. Didn't he understand how serious their predicament was?
"We haven't seen any Walkers for a while now," Lommy chimed in. "Maybe we're far enough."
With that, everyone dumped their belongings on the ground. Arya resisted at first but she knew the others were right. A lot had happened yesterday, and now all she wanted to do was sleep. Her body was exhausted. Her eyes were getting droopy, and though she knew she'd probably have nightmares tonight, her body still needed the rest or she'd most likely collapse the next day.
Arya took a ratty old pillow and a blanket from the shopping cart, preparing her bed. She had noticed that everyone kept their space from her. Lommy and Hot Pie made their beds beside one another, a few feet away from Arya. Weasel was probably the furthest away from her. Arya knew she should probably apologize to the little girl but she just did not have the will to do so at the moment. Gendry slept beside Weasel, and Arya could not help but feel hurt by his betrayal. He was always good to her; no matter how many times she punched him, yelled at him or called him stupid, he would always stand by her, yet today he kept his distance like the others. Rickon was the only one who remained loyal to Arya, and placed his bed right beside hers. He was already snuggled up in his blanket and beckoned her with his eyes to sleep near him.
Arya lay down beside her brother and wrapped her right arm around his shoulder. He settled his head in between her chest and her armpit. Just as Arya was about to close her eyes, Yoren called out: "Alright. We take the watches two at a time. The Stark girl and I have the first watch. Gendry and Hot Pie have the second. Lommy and Rickon, you're last."
Arya sighed, sleep alluded her once more. She turned to Rickon and kissed him on the forehead before getting up and sitting beside Yoren. Her blanket was still wrapped around her arms. The weather seemed to be growing colder as the days went on. It was hard to believe that it was only a couple of days ago when Arya was rubbing calamine lotion over her body, to sooth her sunburns.
Yoren and Arya sat together side-by-side while the others drifted off to sleep. They were both silent for a long time. Arya adjusted the blanket draped over her body and occasionally rubbed her arms, seeking friction to warm herself up.
Yoren sat beside her with his back hunched over. He toyed with the flask in his hands before taking a sip from it. He wordlessly handed the flask to Arya and this time she did not reject his offer. She grabbed the flask roughly from his hands and took a large gulp of the liquor inside- too large of a gulp. She had drunk the alcohol much too fast and began choking on the liquor. Yoren chuckled softly as Arya kept coughing, attempting to clear the liquid from her airway.
"I take it you don't drink," Yoren commented as he grabbed the flask from her. He took a sip of the alcohol and handed it back to her when he was done. "Take it easy, girl. It's whiskey, not soda." He advised.
Arya nodded, and this time she took a small sip from the flask. The whiskey tasted terribly bitter, and it burned her throat as she swallowed it. It also left a warm feeling in the core of her chest. "Why do you drink whiskey?" She inquired.
"What's that, girl?" The man asked, clearly not understanding the question.
"The first time you offered me alcohol, I told you I didn't like the taste. And you said that you don't drink it for the taste. So why do you drink it?" She asked innocently.
"Ah," Yoren sighed. "Don't really know. Suppose 'cuz they say it helps you forget, but then you sober up and you remember again. You remember all the shit that happened in your life that made you drink in the first place. You remember the pain. Then you can't deal with it, so ya drink some more. It's a never ending cycle.
"The shits terrible for ya though. My own dad died of alcohol poisoning. The shit kills your liver and fucks with yer mind. I knew it was bad for me. But I guess when William died, I blamed myself, ya know? Like how you're blaming yourself for the kid. I feel like it should have been me, not 'im. Can't kill myself 'cuz it feels like such a fucking surrender, and it would be such a waste 'cuz I made it this far. So I guess I let the alcohol do that for me. I just can't find it in me to stop. I don't want to stop." With that, Yoren took another swing from the flask.
Arya chuckled. "What are you? A fucking psychologist now?" She grabbed the flask from him once more and brought her lips to the rim. She took another sip from the flask but did not flinch when the alcohol moved down her throat. It burned but it was a good burn. She handed the flask back to Yoren. The bitter residue of the whiskey remained on her lips and Arya found herself licking them clean, desperately seeking every ounce of alcohol, bringing it into her system.
"They all hate me," Arya confessed as she shifted her attention to the sleeping bodies before them.
He snorted. "Nah, they don't hate you. Think you're the only idiot to have a mental breakdown? Happens to the best of us."
"I yelled at Weasel." She insisted. "I risked all of your lives. If it wasn't for me, we'd still be in the shed and-"
"And that makes you human. You're still a girl. Not just that, but a teenage girl. I'm fed up with all this bullshit of you trying to pass yourself off as an adult. Teenagers snap, they have breakdowns and this was before the blasted Walkers too. Don't be so hard on yourself. They're all trying to give you some space. Think none of 'em has ever pulled what you just did? Gendry nearly smashed everything in his path after his Uncle died."
"So, you don't think they hate me?" Arya asked. Her bottom lip was quivering and she bit down hard on it, to suppress the shivers.
Yoren just smiled at her. "Nah, they don't hate you. Just 'cuz I yelled at you back there doesn't mean that I don't like you. If I was really pissed off at you, I'd thwack you upside your head with me baseball bat. I yell at you 'cuz I do care 'bout you, Stark, and I don't want you to turn into some bitter old fool like me."
"Why?" She demanded. "Why do you care about me?"
Yoren turned to look at her. "'cuz you remind me of him." Arya arched an eyebrow at him and the man chuckled. "Ya remind me of me brother, William. You're a lot alike, ya know? Both of yer stubborn, impatient, and ya both have the worst tempers I've ever seen." Yoren laughed. His face then softened as he continued to speak. " But, you're both brave, smart and ye'd both do anything for yer family."
Arya smiled to herself. She was happy that Yoren wasn't angry with her and had never stopped being her friend. His conversation reminded her of the same one she had with Gendry about Weasel's mother. "Did I look like him?" Arya asked.
Yoren shook his head. "Nah. Looked just like me though. The man was ugly as shit." He snickered.
"So am I," She admitted. She didn't know why she said that, but it was true. Sansa and her friend Jeyne Poole would always call her Arya Horseface. Arya was ugly, and the pandemic did nothing to help her in that case. She was too skinny- she barely had any hips and breasts. She smelled foul, her hair was tangled, and she had acne for crying out loud. No, there was no way Arya could ever be considered pretty.
She expected Yoren to sympathise with her or gruffly admit that she was ugly and move on to the next topic. She half expected him to ignore her but instead he laughed. He chuckled loudly though he made no attempt to cover it up. Arya expected that the others would awaken due to the noise Yoren was making, but no one even stirred.
"Just because you've got a little dirt on you and you smell like shit don't mean that you're ugly." Yoren grinned.
Arya shook her head. "I was never pretty. Everyone used to say so. They called me Horseface or Underfoot."
"And by they do you mean other teenage girls?" Yoren asked, quirking his eyebrow.
Arya nodded. "My sister and her friend Jeyne and..."
"Jealous bunch of twats," Yoren announced, taking a swing from his flask. "Don't ya be listening to them. They're just jealous 'cuz you're beautiful."
Arya nearly choked on the air she was breathing in. Did Yoren just call her beautiful? She had never been called that before. Her dad sometimes said she was pretty, and so did Jon. Her mother said she would be pretty if she would keep the dirt off her face, but they were just family. They had to say she was pretty even though she wasn't. But she never had someone outside her family call her something other than ugly. Though a lot of people did say she resembled her late Aunt Lyanna and she was supposed to be one of the most beautiful people in the world. Arya was shocked that they would even consider herself and her aunt in the same sentence. She settled on the fact that they must have just meant she had the same hair and eyes as her aunt. She never once considered herself to be pretty like her.
"I'm pretty sure you're the only person who thinks I'm beautiful." Arya commented bitterly.
Yoren laughed before he noted the seriousness of her expression. "You don't see it, do you?" he asked.
"See what?" Arya inquired.
"The looks you get," Yoren answered. All the humour in his voice was replaced and he was looking at her intently.
"What looks?" Arya demanded.
Yoren didn't answer her but he just shook his head and laughed. Arya could have sworn he muttered something about a boy being strapped in for a tough ride. Before she could call him out on it, he abruptly changed the conversation.
The rest of their shift passed by in a blur. They changed their conversation into less serious topics and exchanged stories about their pasts. Turns out Yoren was a cop, and a pretty good one at that. His brother, William, was in the navy. Yoren was considering enlisting alongside his brother. It was a very noble career but he just wasn't ready to give up his freedom.
Walkers had infiltrated their camp on more than one occasion. They only came one at a time or occasionally in pairs, so Arya and Yoren did not need to wake the others. They made quick work of the zombies and calmly returned back to their conversation.
After what seemed like forever, Arya and Yoren woke Hot Pie and Gendry so they could take over their shifts. Arya settled herself beside Rickon, who was sleeping soundly. His steady breathing and the warmth radiating from his body lulled her to sleep.
The nightmares began. Bran's death played over and over again in her sleep. Every time, she was too helpless to save him.
Arya tried running to her brother but, she could not move her legs to take her there. She was forced to watch how the Walker ripped open his throat. It didn't stop there. An army of Walkers emerged and began devouring her baby brother just like they had done to the deer. One Walker stood out to her; it was the same Walker with the long flowing white hair and scary blue eyes that tried to eat her in the shed. The Walker shifted his attention away from Bran and began making its way towards Arya beckoning the others to follow. Arya tried to run but she could not move her legs. Arya tried to scream for help, but all that came out was a soft whimper. The Walkers closed in on her and the one with the white hair sunk down to his knees, opened its mouth, and she felt his teeth graze her neck until-
Arya awoke with a jolt. Her entire body was drenched in sweat and she was shaking. It wasn't the nightmare that woke her up but rather a very frightened looking Lommy shaking her and Rickon awake.
"Come on guys! We have to leave now! There are too many of them!" Lommy exclaimed as he grabbed the shotgun and baseball bat before running off.
Arya's eyes adjusted to the vision before her. A large army of Walkers had infiltrated her camp. There were at least fifty creatures slowly approaching her, each with the look of hunger in their eyes.
"Come on!" Lommy begged. "Leave the stuff! We'll get it later!"
Arya noticed that Weasel and Hot Pie were no longer at the scene. Gendry and Yoren were fighting a couple of the Walkers but they looked to be retreating as well. "Come on," Arya urged as she scooped her baby brother into her arms. She left everything behind except for her machete, her gun and a very frightened Rickon.
Arya ran away from the Walkers. She made sure to keep hold of Rickon's hand. She could run twice as fast without him but there was no way she would abandon her baby brother. She tried following Lommy but, she lost sight of him due to her and Rickon's slow pave. A Walker emerged from Rickon's side and ran towards them both. Rickon would always beg Arya for an opportunity to fight alongside with her but in the present he cowered at the sight of the monster. Arya swung her machete at the Walker's skull, killing him instantaneously.
"Come on," Arya pleaded, tugging her brother away from the body. She knew she could not outrun them all. Somehow, she and the others would have to fight the creatures off. Perhaps if they separated the Walkers, they could kill them one at a time. It seemed like a logical plan but she could not bring Rickon along with her and she certainly could not leave him behind.
They ran into three more Walkers, who immediately began chasing the duo once they caught site of them. Shit. Arya had faced three Walkers on her own before but she never had to worry about Rickon or anyone else while doing so. Arya caught sight of a large tree with several sturdy branches, making it very easy to climb. Gendry's voice rang in her head: Don't think Walkers can climb? Well, there was only one way to find out.
Arya nudged Rickon towards the tree and he began climbing. She followed him, mimicking his path. Her brother was just as light as she was and it did not take long for both of them to climb up the tree. They settled themselves upon a large sturdy branch and watched the chaos unfold beneath them. The Walkers circled the tree but made no attempt to climb it; it was obvious that they did not know how to. Arya sighed in relief and took a moment to catch her breath.
Her heart was racing, and she was pretty sure Rickon and the Walkers were able to hear her heavy thumping heart beat. Her mouth was dry and tasted foul- a mixture of morning breath and whiskey. She reached for her backpack to retrieve her water bottle, before she remembered they had abandoned all their supplies at camp. Her mouth was parched but she had to ignore that feeling right now. Arya knew she had to go back to face the Walkers and help the others but she was just too frightened.
Arya turned to Rickon and handed him the pistol. "Don't use it unless if you really have to," Arya instructed. "Whatever you do, do not leave this tree."
Rickon looked at her with wide eyes. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I have to help the others," Arya responded. She couldn't leave everyone else to fend for themselves. They were a pack and they had to stick together.
"I'm coming with you" Rickon announced. He grasped the gun tightly in his hands and looked down at the Walkers still pacing around the tree. She could still see the fear in Rickon's eyes but it was also accompanied by determination.
"No," Arya said. "You are not to leave this tree."
The strength that Rickon built up in these few minutes shattered as he looked at Arya helplessly. "I just lost Bran," he whispered. "I can't lose you too."
Arya moved her hands to cup her baby brother's face. She looked deep into his soft blue eyes. His eyes looked so much like Bran's, like Sansa's, like Robb's, like her mother's. "I promise you," Arya spoke with fierce determination, "if it's the last thing I do, I promise I will come back for you." Rickon just nodded and moved to embrace her in a tight hug. "Don't move," Arya commanded as she left his embrace to climb down the tree.
"I promise," Rickon reassured her. He kissed her on the cheek as he bid her goodbye.
Arya shimmied down the tree where she found the three Walkers eagerly waiting for her. Her legs were hanging in the air and the Walkers jumped up, attempting to sink their teeth into her foot but she was too high up. Arya swung her legs back and forth, propelling her body. She could hear the branch cracking with the added stress she was bearing on it. Once she gathered enough momentum, Arya let her grip on the branch go and swung herself a couple of feet away from the Walkers.
The creatures were momentarily confused by her disappearance and she took that opportunity to unsheathe her machete and swing it at their heads. By the time the Walkers discovered her whereabouts, her machete was already in full swing, giving them no time to react. Each monster died effortlessly at her feet. Arya gave Rickon one last parting glance before running into the forest to find the others.
Her journey was a dangerous one. She ran into several Walkers and was sometimes forced to take on five to six at a time. Arya was exhausted and her muscles were sore but she did not waste any of her time to rest. Her friends could be in danger and Arya had to help them.
Arya was running through the forest when she heard a shrill scream come from her right. She abruptly changed paths and ran towards the direction of the noise. As she got closer, she heard a lot of swearing. She made out the silhouette of Lommy hunched over on the ground, holding onto his leg. His baseball bat and shotgun was disregarded on the floor beside his body.
When Arya moved closer to his body, she noticed that blood was seeping out of his leg and there was a grimace plastered on to his face. She drew a sharp intake of breath, inadvertently revealing her presence to Lommy.
He looked at Arya as if he was frightened. She could not tear her eyes away from the wound on his leg. It looked nothing like a bite, more like a scratch, but it was an open wound nonetheless. "I hurt myself," Lommy quickly said. "I tripped and I fell on a rock."
Arya took a closer inspection of his wound and nodded her head. She believed him; she could still see the bits of gravel on his knee and had no doubt that he was telling her the truth. The only way to turn is if the Walker's blood entered your system, so with a scrape from a rock, Lommy was undoubtedly safe. Arya reached for the baseball bat and shotgun on the floor.
"I need help," he said, causing Arya to shift her attention away from the weapons and back to her friend. "You have to carry me," he ordered.
Arya looked at him for a moment. The scene could not help but remind her of the day Bran died. He too was injured in an ambush, though Bran was bitten, while Lommy was injured. She remembered the events that led up to his death and some pieces did not fit. Arya could not believe she was so stupid to not see this before. She had been so consumed with grief that she had failed to see the logic before her.
"How did my brother die?" Arya asked Lommy.
He looked taken aback by her question, and the fear returned back to his eyes. "Th-The W-Walkers" Lommy stuttered out. "They b-bit him, so Yoren shot h-him."
"I know that," She snapped. "But how did they get in the shed? They weren't in there when we left in the morning and you were the last person to leave the shed and the first person to arrive,"
Lommy looked at her fearfully; he knew the charade was up. He knew that Arya now knew the truth. "I-I'm sorry" he stammered out. "I forgot to lock the shed. I never secured the bindings!" He cried. "When I saw that the door was still closed, I didn't think any Walkers got inside. I didn't mean to do it...I just forgot. I'm sorry."
Arya tore her gaze away from Lommy and looked at the shotgun in her hands. All this time she had been blaming herself for Bran's death when it was Lommy's fault. If he had just secured the bindings like he was supposed to, Bran would still be alive. They would still be in the shed and they would all be safe.
"Sorry doesn't bring back my brother," Arya muttered darkly.
She raised the shotgun and held it with two hands, pointing the weapon straight at Lommy. His eyes went wide with fear. "No!" he screamed. "No, please, I'm so-"
Lommy never got to finish his sentence. Arya already pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced Lommy's skull. She watched the life go out of his eyes and saw his body slump into the forest floor.
Arya didn't feel bad for killing Lommy, nor did she feel good about it. She wasn't scared, excited or remorseful for murdering her former companion. She didn't feel anything, only emptiness. Arya turned her back on Lommy for the final time and began walking away. It was too late now. The darkness had already taken over and Arya let it consume her.