How did this happen? More importantly, why am I letting this happen?
I am currently leading four strange, heavily armed men to my truck where I keep all my supplies. I suppose I could walk with them to their van, wave goodbye, then head to my truck. Yeah, that seems like the best way to do this. Hopefully this doesn't turn out to be too eventful. I've had enough of that for one day.
We've been walking for a while, with some conversation that I've mostly stayed out of. Glenn makes a joke that Rick only went back for the hat and Daryl doesn't seem too thrilled Rick gave away half their firepower. I just follow behind, keeping to myself. That is, until Rick asks, "So Ashlyn. How long have you been livin' in the city?"
"Probably a bit over three weeks now. "
"I haven't seen you before, on any of my supply runs," Glenn says, surprised.
"I don't stay in one place long. I like to keep moving," I reply. It's good if they know I won't be here long; I don't need them to come looking for me when their food runs low.
"Only three weeks?" T-Dog observes. "Where were you before that?"
"I used to live in South Florida, in the Fort Lauderdale area. When I saw things were getting serious, I packed up and headed to Georgia to get my sister. I only got to around Albany before things really got bad…"
Noticing my solemn tone, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog fell silent. Daryl, however, asks me, "You ever get to see her?" His voice was softer than before, but somehow still nonchalant.
I look up to answer him, but I'm the only one still walking. I turn to see the others have stopped, staring ahead at an empty lot.
"Oh my god." Glenn looks mortified. They all do. Like they just watched someone just slap a baby.
"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl says, all in one breath.
"We left it right there, who would take it?"
"Merle." Rick says, as serious and level headed as ever.
The all stand there for a moment in silence. What is this? The fuck is going on? So much for uneventful. I put my hand on my gun. What are they trying? Am I supposed to believe their van just disappeared? This must be part of some plan. They do seem genuinely distressed though. I take a step away from them and they don't seem to notice. Who's this 'Merle' guy anyway?
"He's gonna be bringing some vengeance back to camp," Daryl tells Rick.
"We have to get back. Now." Rick looks more distressed than I've seen him, not that I've known him long. They seem to have forgotten me, so I take another step back.
"We'll never get back in time, man. Who knows how much of a head start he's got on us," T-Dog says, panicked.
As I take my third step away, Glenn spins around to face me, "Ashlyn! You've got a truck. Please, we have to get back to camp, right now."
Here it is. They want me to lead them back to my truck. Do they think they can trick me? I don't owe them shit, either. It's because of them that I'm in this mess to begin with. They're not getting near my supplies.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, taking another step. Rick moves toward me, but I lift my gun, hands shaking. He stops, with his hands up. "I can't."
I can clearly make out the hurt on all of their faces, except Daryl. He looks more angry than anything.
"Fine then! Run away!" He yells at me, muscles tense. He turns away and addresses the others. "There's no time for this!"
His words cut into me. I can feel my lip starting to quiver but I swallow hard and grip my gun tighter.
Rick stares me in the eyes. He probably has the most unnerving stare in the world. His voice is steady as always, but this time, I can hear the desperation in it. "I have a family. My wife and son. They're in danger." He takes a hesitant step toward me and I take one back. "Please."
"I'm sorry." I whisper again. Then I'm running. Running as fast as I can away from them. This is it. This is how you survive. It's all I have left. It's all I know how to do. I run between cars, barely acknowledging the Infected drawing closer to me. The sun's going to set soon, so I run faster. Breathing heavily and coughing as my lungs struggle to keep up with my feet. This is how it's always been.
You can't keep running your whole life, Ash.
I push my memories back as I reach my truck. I unlock the door, jump inside, and lock it back up again. An Infected slams it's hands against the window and I jerk away, startled. I throw the truck into reverse, back up, put it in drive, and floor it. The Infected flies forward about ten yards when I hit it, taking another Infected out like a bowling pin. I throw the truck back in park.
When my panic wears down, I stare straight ahead, both hands clutching the wheel, trying to catch my breath. My bangs, always too long, are matted to my forehead with sweat. I feel nauseous. I can't get their faces out of my head. Glenn's betrayed face, T-Dog's solemn expression, Rick's desperation. I remember what he said to me earlier that day. You're a good person. I wonder if he still thought that. I bang my head against the wheel. Of course he doesn't.
But most of all, I remember Daryl's words. Fine then! Run away!
I look in my rear view mirror. A red mark begins to appear where I hit my head. This isn't worth it. This isn't what I wanted.
"Fucking hell."
I put the truck in drive again, and take off, full speed, in the direction I just came from.
DARYL
We've been running for fifteen minutes and we're still not even close to gettin' back to camp. Dammit Merle! Why's he always got to do this shit?
Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog look terrible. Like hurt little puppies. I don't get what they were so fuckin' surprised about. So Red ran away? Who gives a shit? Her truck would've been nice to have, but we don't need her. People leave you. That's the way it is, the way it's always been.
The sun's about to set. When we eventually get off the road and into the woods, it'll be almost too dark to see. Not to mention, we're not exactly moving quietly at this pace. If I was alone, that'd be another story. None of these guys know how to move without makin' so much noise, every walker in the city can hear 'em.
"Did you see her face? When she ran away. She looked terrified," Glenn manages to say in between breaths.
"What are you so surprised about?" I spit, "She didn't trust us from the beginning. She didn't even want to walk back with us, thinking we'd jump her and take her stuff the second we got back to her precious truck."
"Enough," Rick commands. "There were four of us and one of her. She had every reason to suspicious."
"Whatever," I mumble. Just then, I hear a rumbling sound approaching us. A car, coming up fast. "Behind us. Someone's comin'."
We run and crouch behind a broken down Chevy as a black truck comes into view. Glenn peaks over the car hopefully, expecting to see his little girlfriend. Just as I hiss "Don't get your hopes up," I see a bright spot of red in the driver seat. Glenn looks over at me smugly before walking out from behind the car.
The truck comes to a quick stop next to us, and I hear her voice yell, "Get your asses in here before I change my mind!" I step out from behind the car, jog over, and vault into the bed of the truck with Glenn and T-Dog, while Rick runs to the passenger door.
"I knew you'd come back for us!" Glenn yells back as she hits the gas.
"Don't get too used to it, now," Ashlyn replies. I stare at her through the back window. For all her big talk, she looks like she just witnessed a murder. Her shoulders heave up and down, as she tries to catch her breath. Her body gleams with sweat and her hair is tossed in a big, tangled mess. It's her hands that really give her away though. Even from back here, I can see them shaking as she grips the steering wheel. She's even hitting her thumb nervously against the wheel. I wonder what made her decide to come back.
"Take a right up here, just passed this blue car," Rick says, staring ahead intently. No doubt he's thinking about his wife and kid.
Ashlyn makes a sharp left off the road and onto a dirt path. I see her sneak a glance at Rick, noticing the worry all over his face, and speeds up.
We're much closer to the camp, less than five minutes at this speed, when Ashlyn starts coaxing her truck to keep going, "C'mon now, c'mon. Don't stop now baby, you can make it." The truck starts slowing down, but the momentum's still caring us forward. "C'mon, baby."
"What's the problem?" Rick asks.
"The problem is she's been running on empty for the last twenty minutes," Ashlyn replies, glancing at her gas gauge. "Fuck" The truck has slowed to a crawl, so we jump out.
"We have to keep moving," Rick says.
Just as we get out of her truck, we hear gun shots and screams coming from the direction of camp. We sprint down the path, more urgent than ever. I hear an extra set of footsteps I wasn't expecting, following behind us.
ASHLYN
I chase after the guys, forgetting about my truck, not caring what happens to me next. I'm done thinking, and I'm done running away. My palms are sweaty against my gun, but I hold it tight, my muscles tense. We run into a clearing, guns blazing, and it looks like all hell has broken loose, literally. The whole scene is lit from the camp fire raging by the tents. Men and woman are screaming while groups of Infected run wild after them. There's blood everywhere but I'm unsure whether it's from the Infected or the living.
Two Infected charge at me from ahead and I swiftly take them out with my pistol. I turn to my left, but two rotting hands grab at my hair and pull me down. A heavy body falls on top of me, pinning my arm with the gun to my midsection. I use my free hand to keep the snarling face, or what's left of it at least, away from mine, but it keeps pressing closer. I manage to twist my pinned downed wrist so that the barrel of my pistol is angled toward the Infected's head. I blow a hole through half the length of its body, the bullet traveling through its chest cavity and into its brain. The recoil and discharge from the shot tear at my stomach, but I keep moving and shove the body off of me. I look up to see daryl standing over me, one arm reaching out to pull me up while the other wields a crossbow. He doesn't take his eyes off his targets as I grab his arm and he hoists me up, taking out two more Infected. Now standing and facing behind Daryl, I see an Infected run from the woods. I shoot it right through the mouth and continue covering his back until the Infected are wiped out.
When the blood bath is over, I lower my gun and turn to face the group of frightened people. I hear Rick call out to his wife and kid, "Lori! Carl!" He runs over to them, hugging them tight. Others seem less fortunate.
Daryl turns toward me and suddenly grabs me by the wrist, and lifts my arm, his other hand holding up my elbow. "Wha- Daryl! What are you doing!?" I stammer. He ignores my cry and continues checking my body, first my arms, then he puts his hands on my shoulders and spins me around. He examines my back, his hands still on me, then spins me back to face him. He notices the gash on my stomach and lifts my shirt just enough to reveal it. "I wasn't bit! It's from my gun!" Thank god it's dark, I can feel my face burning up and I hate it. This isn't the time to be self-conscious. I forcefully grab the hem of my shirt and force it down, glaring at Daryl.
Daryl looks up after my outburst, his face surprised and innocent, but quickly notices my discomfort, and takes a step back. Squaring his broad shoulders and shifting awkwardly on his feet, he says, louder than usual, "Well, c'mon, don't just stand there lookin' stupid, get yourself patched up." Not making eye contact, he briskly walks away.
Ugh, who's the one who looks stupid? I was just attacked by cannibalistic, half-dead people and then had my personal space violated by almost a complete stranger! I stare after him in shock, wondering what strange group of people I just got stuck with. Temporarily of course. He was right about one thing though. I need to stop this bleeding fast. And clean up the cut. The last thing I need right now is an infection.
I head towards the crowd of distressed faces, mentally checking off that the four I'm acquainted with are accounted for. When I notice a fifth familiar face though, my heart almost gives way. I want to call out, but my voice catches in my dry throat. Instead, I force myself to stagger forward, tears welling up in my eyes. He notices me and freezes, just for a moment, then whispers just under his breath, "Ashlyn?"
The adrenaline begins to wear off though and I really begin to feel the pain in my stomach. Exhaustion, thirst, and hunger hit me all at once. My vision begins to blur and my head begins to spin. "Jim." I vaguely notice I'm falling, but I feel a strong pair of arms wrap around me from my side. I keep starring at Jim though. He looks so different. His beard is full and he's just so skinny. Mel had always fed him well. "Mel." With a new burst of energy I frantically look around, struggling against the arms keeping me steady. "Mel! She's hear Jim, isn't she? She must be! Jim, where's Mel?" My voice cracks and rasps as I call out, "Mel!" I frantically look around, looking for the blond ringlets I love so much. However, I only see sad faces looking back at me. My eyelids begin to droop and my spinning mind spirals down to darkness.
DARYL
I catch Red just as she's about to hit the ground. Jim just stares at her, like he's seen a goddamn ghost, while she wails away about some girl named Mel. It doesn't last long though, she quickly passes out in my arms, her body going limp. Wailing continues, from over by the RV. The blond chick, I think her name was Andrea or somethin', is crying over her little sister's body. Looks like she was bit and nobody wants to be the one to put an end to it. Between the two scenes, these people don't know what to do with themselves, who to help. Rick steps away from his family, but then turns to his wife and tells her, "Go take care of the girl. I'll… see what I can do about this," he nods toward Andrea, sadly.
Lori nods and comes over to me and Red, saying "Pick her up and help me get her to my tent. We need to get her cleaned up." I nod and begin lifting her but notice Jim hasn't moved.
"The fuck are you starin' at? She's gonna need some water, go get some!" I shout at him. He snaps out of his daze, nods, and rushes off. Who is this guy to Red? And who the fuck is Mel?
I pick up Red easily, and head toward the tent. She looks like she was probably small before everything went to hell, but now it feels as if her bones are hallow. I look down at her face, more calm than I've ever seen it. Normally, she's all wide eyed and jumpy, like a scared deer. Now, her face is relaxed and her lips are just a little opened. She's got these really light little freckles, too, across her cheeks and nose.
"Daryl, lay her down here," Lori says, urgently, as she spreads out a towel for the girl. I set her down and take a step back. Jim bursts in, holding a water bottle, looking nervous.
"Uh, I, I've got some water," he stammers, his eyes fixed on Red.
"Thanks, Jim," Lori says, taking the bottle. "Grab me that towel over there." Jim hands her the towel she pointed at and she crouches down, pulling back Red's shirt. She pours a little water on the cut and starts wipin' up the blood. The cut isn't all that bad, but it the area around it is bruised and a little burned. Lori pulls a white plastic box out of a bag and opens it up, taking out gauze, medical tape, and butterfly stiches.
"She's gonna be alright, ain't she?" Jim asks Lori, wide-eyed and worried.
"Of course, it's just a little cut. She probably only passed out from exhaustion," Lori says. "Now what I want to know, is how you know this girl." She looks up from Red and giving Jim a serious but caring look.
Jim's shoulders slump forward and he lets out a heavy sigh. "She's my wife's sister, Ashlyn. They were real close. Always visiting each other and callin' each other on the phone." He sat down on a trunk and buried his face in his hands.
"I'm so sorry," Lori breathed. I just looked down and stared at Red's face. She was talking about her sister, back in the city.
Jim regained his composer and kept talkin', more urgently than before, "She warned us about all this. Real early, when it was just getting' going. Melanie, my wife, she said Ashlyn was always a worrier. She was trying to get us to stay somewhere in the country for a while, until it all blew over. We didn't want our boys to miss school though, so we stayed put. Still, Mel went out and got some supplies, mostly to make Ashlyn happy. I knew she was coming up to Atlanta, probably to get us to come with her somewhere safe. That was the last I'd heard from her." Jim starts sniffling at this point, and tears start falling. I look away quickly, it's not right, watchin' a man cry. "But after.. after Mel and our boys died, I wanted to stay in our place, wait to see if she would come, but I couldn't stay there. Not where they died. Not where I watched them get killed." He was practically sobbing. Lori gets up and sits next to him. Rubbing circles on his back, not saying anything. She looks up at me, and I know I shouldn't be in there. I nod at her and duck out of the tent with one last look at Red.
Tomorrow's gonna be hell, for everyone. The way Red was screamin' for her sister earlier, I'm guessing she doesn't know she's dead.
Ok, so I realized I made a mistake last chapter about what I should call Ashlyn's boyfriend from before the apocalypse. I just want it to be clear James isn't the same person as Jim. He might be mentioned later in the story and I don't want anyone to be confused.
Chapter 4 should be up before Monday. I'd love to hear feedback on my writing, so please review!
Also, thank you to VampWolf92 and Jag for the reviews and to everyone who followed or made my story a fav. It really encourages me to keep working on this!