Chapter 27 "Hide"

Days 90 & 91; Group C

The group drove as far as they could down the dirt road, which winded long and far through the woods. The downside of that was that the road quite often forked into dead ends, where trees had grown into the dirt road, making it impossible to keep driving through, or the road simply ended or led to a house, which was not what they needed. What they needed was to escape. To find an actual road and get as far away from the house as quickly as possible. They didn't know where the herd was, exactly how massive it was, or even if it had changed directions. "Finding a house and staying there," Ryan had said about it, "would be the dumbest thing we can do. We have to keep moving or the herd will catch up and kill us all."

They were finally on a good path that hadn't lied to them yet. They had been driving without having to stop for about thirty whole minutes now, which was pretty much a record. Then, just as their luck would dictate, the gas ran out. Ryan, the driver of the leading blue van, groaned as his van sputtered to a stop. He got out and slammed the door in rage, opening the back to get everyone's packs out of the back as they all followed him out of their seats.

"We're on foot now," he stated.

"At least now we can keep headed straight for the highway if we hit another dead end," Sierra said, pointing out the upside to this.

They kept walking for the rest of the day, stopping occasionally when their feet began to hurt, when some walkers needed to be taken care of, or when they needed to stop at a stream for water.

Ryan checked his watch, and found that it was 10:21 P.M. He sighed, knowing they had no choice but to stop. They couldn't carry on like this, but stopping was dangerous. They would be sleeping in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night after having just escaped a herd that may very well still be following them. He froze in place, sighing as the others caught up to him. Apparently there's nothing that can't happen today. "We have to stop," he finally said.

"Do we, though?" Otis asked.

"We might find a place to stay if we keep going," Xavier said. "We don't have to sleep in the middle of the woods."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Keep going?" he asked. "You fucks keep stopping and slowing us all down. Getting tired after only thirty minutes of walking," he glared at Otis, Shakira, Amanda, and Gabriel. "We can't keep stopping. We're faster than walkers, but not if we keep taking thirty minute breaks."

"So your solution is to make us stop for three or more hours, instead?" Xavier questioned.

"No, it's to get you people some actual rest while the big dogs keep watch. Me, you," referring to Xavier, "Sierra, and Kelly will take turns while you others get the sleep you so obviously need. We can also boil some of the water we got back there."

Not wanting to continue the argument and waste more time, they began to set up camp, pulling out the four tents they had in the packs for the night. Shakira and Oscar decided to take one, Otis and Gabriel took another, Kelly and Xavier were given one together, and Sierra and Amanda were left with the last one.

"Let's let the lovebirds have a little bit of luck tonight," Sierra had said about Kelly and Xavier sleeping together.

"Wait, what?" Xavier asked.

"Is it that obvious?" Kelly whispered to Xavier.

Those around her, including Xavier, laughed as she stood there looking confused. "Obvious?!" Gabriel laughed.

"You two never take your eyes off of each other," Amanda giggled.

"Kelly, you practically announce to everyone you're alone with for more than three minutes how much you like that crazy-haired mess," Sierra smiled, pointing to Xavier's brown hair that had grown long and wild since this all began.

Xavier and Kelly were blushing profusely, unable to look each other in the eyes as they entered their tent, earning "Ooh"s from a few people.

Ryan was the first one on watch, circling the camp with a sniper rifle in his arms and his favorite machete in its holster, his shirt tucked behind it for easy access.

It was a slow, dark, quiet night. It was getting colder, and that was easy to tell. He knew that it was only going to get colder, as well. Maybe even quicker than he thought. He shivered and stood closer by the bright fire, illuminating much of the camp very well. Strangely, he had seen very few walkers throughout the night. Maybe they're all up in that herd, he considered.

As things grew quiet and lonely, he was left with only his thoughts as he kept a watchful eye on the woods. He remembered his daughters. He thought about Lizzie. How he had only lost her just recently, and was forced out of mourning. He remembered the shots he took that put down she, Jessie, and Ron. Did those shots bring in the herd? he wondered. I think they must have. They were on a direct collision course for our place, and this all only happened yesterday. He then realized that he had no idea where Mika was; if she was safe, who she was with, or anything. His heart began racing as he considered the things that could be going on with her, and he felt like he was about to cry. He had purposely let her leave him, he realized. He pushed himself away from her because he thought he needed time, but because of that, he may have lost her forever.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, a few noises could be heard coming from the south. He knew it wasn't the herd, so he sneaked towards it as quietly as he could, his gun held up at the ready.

Then, a walker came out of the bushes, a young teenage girl with short black hair and glasses. He grabbed his black machete and waited for it to come closer, but it hesitated, which struck Ryan as odd. It opened its mouth, and Ryan swung his machete down on the young walker's head, and before he could stop the swing, it yelled, "Please!"

He didn't register that the girl was actually alive. His eyes were wide, his hands still on the machete now plunged deep into the girls skull. Her eyes looked sad and desperate. He took a step back as her body fell over, the machete still encumbered in her head, and he put his hand over his mouth in shock and regret as he stared down at the teen. She had to be about fourteen years old, not far from Lizzie's age. She was covered in walker guts from head to toe, dirty and messy. He looked past her corpse, now lying lifeless on the ground, to see walkers headed towards them. She had sneaked right past them, and they had now noticed Ryan. How did she do that? Was it the guts?

He raised his sniper that had a silencer attached to it and took down the four walkers that were on the way. After they went down, he turned his attention back to the girl, and he began to cry. Then, many voices could be heard calling from the woods, whisper-yelling, "Sarah? Sarah, where did you go?"

Ryan panicked, wiped the tears from his face, yanked the machete from the girl's head, and threw her body into the trench they had dug for taking care of bodily functions, that could also double as a biter-tripping pit. Slow them down, at least.

Sierra exited her tent to check on Ryan after hearing the faint shots, and she took her shift. Ryan simply told her it was a few walkers.

She was approached by a man in walker guts many hours after taking shift. It was now quite late, and the wind was intensely strong and cold, but she had no choice but to keep guard, or else she would be putting everyone in danger. He was a bit pudgy, and looked smart. He had his arms wrapped around himself, desperately clinging for warmth under his wet, thin white jacket. Stepping out of the woods, he said, "Hello?" in a thick Mexican accent to Sierra. She raised her gun and refused to talk to him, plugging her nose with her fingers. "I'm just looking for my daughter," he told her. "I don't know where she went. Please, I just want her."

"Firstly, why are you covered in guts?" she asked, seemingly uncaring about this man's daughter. For all she knew, he was lying. Plus, people lost their kids all the time. This was nothing to cry and get upset about now. Just a day in the life of the world of walkers.

"Because I lost my weapons along with most of my supplies."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You don't know?" the man asked, getting a lifted eyebrow in response from Sierra. "If you put their guts on you, you're basically invisible. They can't tell the difference between you and any other old walker. You can hide. Now, have you seen my girl?"

Sierra pondered the validity and sense of what the man had just said. There were more important things to worry about, though, as he was obviously very worried about his daughter. "I don't know where your daughter is," the blonde said, her hardness cracking. "I'm sorry. I haven't seen her."

"Well, thank you anyways, I guess," he said, turning back to the woods.

"Wait," Sierra beckoned. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here with us? We can help you in the morning."

"No," the man said, his voice suddenly very cold. "I don't want to stay with you. I don't know you, and I need to get back to my people."

Sierra nodded her head, slightly confused. As he walked off, she considering shooting him so that she could loot him, but decided against it. He walked right past walkers, who barely sniffed at him before checking him off as a fellow undead corpse, and Sierra stood, astounded that he wasn't lying.

Hopefully he finds his girl, Sierra thought, and she was unaware of the corpse rotting in sewage a few feet behind the tents she was standing in front of; and Ryan sobbing in the tent he was now sharing with Amanda, who was wide awake, listening to the man she really didn't like mourning, presumably still over Lizzie.

"Yeah, but she still would have been useful if she were here," Oscar said to Shakira, the two of them once again whispering to one another in Spanish before they slept, pushed close against one another on their backs for warmth in the cold night.

"True," Shakira shrugged. "She was a great shot, and she was so smart. I am going to miss Patti so much."

"It is that way with a lot of people, though."

"Yeah."

They remained quiet for a few moments, watching the light of the fire flickering on the door of the blue tent, wishing it were a stronger, warmer flame.

Oscar was thinking about all of people he had lost. All of the people he had seen die or just leave. Marina, Emilia, Rosa, Abi-Maria, Hershel, Maggie, Lizzie, Ron, Jessie, Patti… and his family. Now was the time. He didn't know how much longer they would have. His group had plenty of experience being on foot, but not running from a herd. Not with such a large group, after having lost so many people. Things now were more uncertain than ever.

"We were in Lamesa," he began in English, and Shakira looked to him, shocked. "My dad was sitting on the porch, getting fresh air."

Shakira stopped him. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I want to," he assured her, turning his head to look her right in the eyes. He continued, "He was disabled. Couldn't walk without our help, and we were too poor for a walker. Madre had just put him out there and she went to the bathroom, then was going to bring him food and they were going to eat outside. It was summer, so they usually ate outside, watching the sunset. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but when I got there, I found my dad being devoured by some of the turned neighborhood kids. He was screaming in pain, couldn't move or fight back in any way. He kept screaming, 'Kill me, mijo! Kill me! Save me from this, goddamn it!'" Oscar stopped talking for a moment, his eyes beginning to water. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop. "I just," he said, beginning to sniffle. "I couldn't. I ran inside, found my mom hiding in the bathroom, hysterical. She told me I had to kill Papa. She handed me his rifle, and told me she'd be right behind me. I could hear him outside screaming the whole time."

Shakira whispered, "Here," not trying to interrupt the boy as he continued telling his story, as she rolled up her sleeve and wiped at Oscars tears, then pulled him into her arms.

"Thank you," he said, crying hard. "So, I went out there, put the kids down. Then, I had to kill my dad. He looked so miserable. He died in front of me, and I waited so long to shoot him. He turned, started moving again. Madre thought he had survived. She got really excited, jumping up and down, and she pulled him into a hug. He bit into her neck, pulling out veins and muscles. It was gruesome. I shot him in the head, and Madre broke down. She clutched her neck, bleeding horribly, and ran off. I found her a few minutes later," he paused once more, his voice now a whimper. "She was throwing herself into a crowd of walkers." His eyes met Shakira's, tears flowing steadily from his eyes. "And she was dragging my little brother in with her by the hand."

He sobbed into Shakira's chest, and she had never felt closer to him than now. At the same time that she felt happy Oscar finally trusted her, she felt engulfed in guilt. She had pushed so hard for Oscar to tell her what had happened, and now she was worried the boy was never going to stop crying. Never going to get better.

Xavier and Kelly were awkwardly trying to ignore the thick sexual tension between themselves as they entered the tent, hearing the resulting "Ooh"s and simultaneously turning as red as tomatoes.

They laid there silent for a while, facing away from each other and attempting to sleep as everyone else filed into their own tents. As time passed, the wind picked up and they became much colder.

"Xavier?" Kelly eventually called, hoping he hadn't passed out yet.

"Yeah?" Xavier sounded.

"Oh," she said, slightly regretting speaking up. She really didn't have anything planned to talk about, and now she would be the one to break the tension, which made her slightly nervous. She just wanted to talk with Xavier. Maybe I could talk about what all had happened? "Uh, I don't know."

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning over to see her, and she did the same.

Now lying on her side, Kelly thought. "Nothing," she said. "I was just thinking about Patti."

"You going to miss her?" the messy-haired man asked.

"I am," Kelly said. "I also feel really sad about everything."

"Yeah," he said, remembering the death scene of Jessie, Lizzie, and most importantly to him, Ron. He got intensely sad thinking about Ron going down like that. He couldn't help but blame Jessie, at least a little bit. She wasn't suitable for this world. She didn't know how to protect her boy in a life this dangerous. Xavier did, though. Xavier knew what had to be done, and had he been there instead of Jessie, he knows Ron would still be alive. He loved that kid, and he would always miss him. "I do, too."

"You know," she said after watching the light of the fire on the tent for a while, "I talked to Patti this morning. When we were making breakfast." Xavier nodded. "She told me she liked Seth. I convinced her to try to talk to him. She was going to do it when he got back this afternoon from the run." Kelly's lip quivered as she held back tears, and Xavier scooted closer to pull her into a hug, both to comfort her and to get warmer. "And now she never can," she said, her voice hollow.

They laid like that for a long time, and Kelly nearly fell asleep in his arms, the warmth soothing her. Xavier eventually became uncomfortable and tried to pull away, but she pulled him in tighter instinctively. She looked up to him, her eyes slightly glazed. She looks so perfect, Xavier thought. He slowly moved his head down to hers, motioning for a kiss, and she followed. Their kiss became intense, and Kelly began to wake up. One thing led to another, and soon they were on top of one another, tossing and turning in the tent, making love. Comforting each other with their bodies.

Sierra noticed, and she smiled to herself, but also felt a small hint of jealousy inside of herself. She shivered into her jacket and brushed it off, going back to keeping watch. Things are more important than love, she reminded herself. Keeping herself — these people, everyone she loved and had left in the world safe was her priority now.