Rachel
Well, as John would say, that was a bust and a half.
We came across a church, which held nothing but a few walkers that Shane, Rick, and Daryl took out immediately. After that, it was a matter of searching around the area. We'd split apart, trying to work our way around and meet back up, like Daryl had said back at the highway.
Shane, Rick, and Carl had split apart from the rest of us, whereas most of us stayed with Daryl since we weren't trackers in any sense of the word.
And admittedly, we're all a little on edge.
We heard a gunshot maybe an hour or so ago, and we haven't seen any indication of the other three. We should've met up long ago, so it's got me more than a little worried. It's clearly getting to Lori, but I'll give her credit, she's staying strong.
"How much farther?" Andrea pipes up, glancing towards Daryl, who's leading us through the woods.
"Not much." Daryl answered without so much as a glance towards her. "Maybe a hundred yards. As the crow flies."
Andre let out a sigh of annoyance. "Too bad we're not crows."
I can't help the amused smile on my face at Andrea's attitude. Her sister, Amy, looks like she's in a similar boat, a look of frustration on her face, but so far, she hasn't said a single word in complaint about this whole situation.
I let my eyes wander over to Shiela, and my grin falls as I see her. She's got a sad look on her face, likely from the fact that we haven't found John yet, and her shoulders are slumped, hatchet hanging loosely from her grip as trudges on just enough to keep pace with the rest of us.
Poor girl was so excited this morning to find her brother, and she's probably disappointed that we haven't seemed to have found anything yet. I know I am, even though I'm trying to distract myself from it.
We all continue our pace behind Daryl, who's got his crossbow at the ready at all times in comparison to most of our own lazy strides, relaxed and a little disappointed from the trip. Though, if Daryl's words of encouragement earlier were any indication, he has full faith that we'll find John and Sophia.
I do too. Still… I just can't help but to be disappointed that we haven't found him yet.
It's been nine months. Nine freaking months of hard survival, of being attacked by both the walkers and the living, and losing Peter to boot only weeks ago…
Me and Shiela both… we just want to see John again.
I'm violently thrown from my thoughts, gaze darting around wide-eyed, when I hear a blood-curdling scream erupt from behind us as all of our heads jerk back towards the source.
It's Andrea! She must have lagged behind.
I can vaguely hear Lori screaming out Andrea's name, and the sound of Amy's worried voice fills my ears, but I'm not paying much attention to that as I take off in a sprint towards the source. The screams of terror easily get louder as we approach, and I can hear footsteps following my own as we book it as fast as we can.
The sounds of a snarling walker, growling with bloodlust and hunger begins to enter my ears alongside Andrea's screams, and we find ourselves coming upon the site of Andrea, trying to pull herself as far away as she can from a walker that's growling, it's damaged vocal chords making it's desire known.
I let energy flow into my hand on instinct as I pull my hand back, igniting it as I prepare to shoot a torrent of flame and incinerate the walker, regardless of our very flammable surroundings.
But I don't get the chance.
The next thing any of us now, a woman is literally riding in on a horse, cracking the walker in the face with a baseball bat and bringing it down, like some knight in not-so-shining armor. Admittedly, it's a rather baffling site, and I can't help the way I tense up when the woman moves the horse over by us.
However, what's even more baffling is the fact that Shane is situated behind the woman on the horse.
"Lori!" Shane calls out as he throws himself off the horse, his voice filled with a sense of urgency that has me worried. "Hop on, you gotta go."
"What?" Lori's face is one of complete disbelief at Shane's words, and I think that like all of us, she's still trying to process the entire situation.
"There's been an accident." Shane begins quickly, hoping to provide some sort of explanation. "Carl and Rick are back on the farm, Maggie here is gonna give you a ride, but you're family needs you."
"What happened?" I cut in quickly, looking at Shane with a worried gaze. The man looks like he's trying to hide fear, like he's in a sort of… 'Cop mode' we'll call it.
"Carl got shot."
I can hear sounds of worry and alarm coming from everyone else present, including myself, but there's no voice louder than Lori's.
"Shane, what happened?!"
"I just told you!" Shane snaps, something that admittedly catches me off-guard, but he isn't done. "Your husband and your son need you. Right now!"
Lori simply stares at Shane for a moment, clearly in shock at the whole situation, before she regains her bearings and shrugs off her backpack, moving past Shane as she climbs up onto the horse.
Shane picks up the backpack and puts it on his own shoulder, taking the dropped machete up into his hand as well as he levels his gaze as everyone else present, speaking to us all.
"Let's get back to the highway!" He orders, his tone leaving no room for debate. "We need to let everyone else know what happened, and the I'm gonna take some of you to this farm."
No one questions it, not even myself, but as Shane moves past us, I feel a small hand tugging on my sleeve. Turning my gaze towards the source, I find myself looking at the worried gaze of Shiela.
"Do you think Carl's okay?"
"I don't know, Shiela." I answer honestly. As much as I'd like to give Shiela hope that Carl will be fine… I don't want to get her hopes up, only for something to happen.
Shiela's face visibly falls, but she nods her head. "I hope he is."
"So do I, Shiela. So do I."
I might've only known everyone here for a day, but the all seem like good people, and Carl's only a kid, younger than Shiela. He doesn't deserve to die.
John
By now, it's near nightfall. The only bit of light left in the sky is from the sun just barely poking over the horizon, hidden from view by trees and buildings around us.
Otis wasn't kidding when he said they set up a FEMA shelter. I can see a modular trailer set up, just up the steps from the parking lot, and it's probably got everything we need. There's just one little thing…
"Well, I don't think it's cleared out." I mutter quietly, but audible enough for Otis to hear it.
Otis parked the truck a fair bit away, and we came up to the parking lot, we're crouched down behind a couple of cars.
Unlike what Otis thought, the high-school is completely flooded with the dead, if the entire herd shuffling around the parking lot is any indication.
"Everything we need is in that trailer up there." Otis said, confirming my suspicions as he pointed to the trailer. "If we can find a way to get inside, we could get it pretty easily."
I bite my lip as I survey the surroundings. Already, I have an idea, but I want to make sure we can get this done quick enough.
"You know what you're looking for, right?" I say, crouching back down and looking at Otis, who has his hunting rifle clutched like a lifeline. I imagine he's probably scared out of his mind.
"Yeah." Otis nods his head, turning to look at me. "If we can get in there, we can get what we need right quick."
"How fast could you do it by yourself?" I ask, causing him to look at me in visible confusion. "I can get the walkers' attention on me. If I give you my pack, could you load both of them up with everything you need?"
Otis looks absolutely baffled by the idea I've proposed, and if I were anyone else, I would blame him. "I mean, yeah I could." He nods his head. "But how are you gonna distract them?"
At his question, I honestly can't help it.
I just grin.
I stand to my feet, careless of whether the walkers spot me now. I want their attention on me anyway.
Otis looks wide-eyed as I move around the car, and already, a couple of walkers have spotted me now and are snarling, dragging themselves my way as they alert their brethren.
Good…
I whip around the front of a big-ass military truck. An armored SUV of some sort. I put my hands on the sides of the truck as best I can, which honestly just means I'm gripping the top corners.
Reinforced metal bends around my hands like putty as I try to find a good grip, but I don't need the best grip.
The snarling in my ears is practically deafening, and that's about when I get the grip I need.
And I honestly can't stress enough how good it feels to be able to show off like this, cut loose a bit.
I swing that truck around like I'm picking up a toy, and it goes flying through the herd like one hell of a battering ram.
Corpses go flying and the sound of flesh meeting a number of hard objects echoes through the air, but I pay it no mind.
"COME ON, YOU DEAD SONS O' BITCHES!" I shout out, leaping towards the nearest walker and taking it to the ground.
It'd be laughably easy to just crush the fucker's skull in and be done with him… but I have a more creative idea in mind.
With control that's far more practiced than I'd like it to be, I pick the thing up by the skull and ignore it's clawing at me as I snag another walker by its skull.
You ever seen Venom? You know that part where he turns one of the S.W.A.T guys into a human weapon?
You know where this is going.
Walkers go flying left and right as I literally begin flinging bodies, the corpses in my hand essentially turning into makeshift sledge hammers of sorts. I mean, they hit with the force of one, at least from me.
And it's not just one or two walkers back to back. Every swing with one corpse sends at least three to five walkers flying through the air, smashing against walls, cars, trees, hell, even the ground. Every hit chips away at my makeshift weapons, turning pretty much everything south of the stomach to bloody stumps.
But I don't care. Every little bit left is a weapon for me to hit shit with.
I slam the corpse in my left hand into the ground, fragmenting what's left of it's body and an unfortunate walker I manage to hit with it, both exploding into paste, nothing left but fragments of bone and bits of organs flying through the air.
By now, every single walker present is shambling towards me, trying to get towards what seems to them like another meal.
That's their problem.
What remains of the walker in my right hand is turned into a human missile, as he pull a hand back and throw the half-corpse as hard as I can, watching as it launches through at least half a dozen walkers before splattering on the wall of the school, cracking the bricks in the process.
There's still plenty left… but all of their attention is on me.
Good. Let's keep it that way.
Using two walkers as weapons was admittedly more fun than it should've been… but I got a better idea.
I turn towards a nearby police car. Whether it has an alarm or not, I could honestly car less. No… It's the front axle I'm worried about.
I move towards the car and grip the bumper, lifting it up with one hand as I reach under the car with the other and grip the axle, before giving it a hard tug.
The sound of straining and tearing metal echoes through the air as I rip the axle clear from the car with ease, bringing both of the front tires with it as well, before turning around to face the walkers with my new weapon.
And I grin.
"This is gonna be fun." I mutter to myself, before charging forward.
Unlike the corpses I used earlier, the makeshift hammer I have now is far more effective. Imagine being hit by a bench press weight that's triple the size of a normal one. Now, imagine being hit by someone who's strong enough to shatter titanium with it.
What do you have?
Just about every video game ever that involves a superhero.
If they were flying before, then every hit turns a good few walkers into missiles with each hit, pretty much liquifying any other corpse that's in their path, before splattering against something.
I'm pretty sure I even hit a few of them clear out of the school.
Usually, I'm not too keen on making a commotion, especially not like this, and it's admittedly still abundant in the back of my mind that this commotion is gonna be drawing walkers for miles, so we definitely can't afford to wait around.
But the good part is that it's just Otis with me. Not the entire group like back on the highway, and I don't have to wait on Dale or Glenn or someone else to fix a radiator hose. I just gotta be a distraction.
Otis
Well, that was… a site. Let's call it that.
You know, the way it was thrown out so off-handedly, I half expected it to be an exaggeration, you know? That this kid I found in the woods last night wasn't really the Juggernaut, just a superhuman with similar powers. Hell, I half expected it to be an excuse just to stop any further arguing.
I've never seen a superhuman in my life. Not till now. Sure, they became public knowledge, and I remember Jimmy showing me some videos on that phone of his back before the dead started walking showing people doing all manner of things, like throwing people without touching them, spitting water from their hands, controlling animals…
But I'll tell you, those videos don't quite portray what it's like to see it in person.
When John just grinned, I expected something stupid for a distraction.
Instead, he lifted that big ol' SUV and threw it. Just… threw it. Like it was a toy.
Sure, in hindsight, that kind of strength doesn't sound impressive compared to other abilities everyone hears about, before and after the apocalypse. But then you see it in person.
Honestly, I stayed behind that car longer than I should've, just watching this kid tear apart the dead ones. I mean, like I said, I've never seen a superhuman in my life till today, and now I'm watching this kid I brought back to Hershel's, lost like a puppy in the forest, show that he really is the Juggernaut.
But, then the thought of that boy comes into my mind.
And that's all it takes to get my fat ass moving.
Make no mistake, I know I'm big. I'm overweight, and it's done a number on my energy. I can't run very long before I have to stop and take a breath, or I'm huffing and puffing.
But I don't run to be quick. I just need to keep watch and be careful.
Ignoring the carnage going on behind me is easier than it should be, and making it up the steps and to the trailer is even easier with all attention from the dead on John.
Now, I just need to get in and get what I'm looking for.
Let's see… respirator, respirator tube, surgical meds and supplies.
Admittedly, when I get inside, I'm a little caught off-guard by just how untouched everything seems to be.
I go hunting every once in a while, and we have the well at the farm, but that doesn't mean I don't make runs like this every once in a while. It's just often that it's time-sensitive like this one is.
If that boy don't make it through this… I won't either.
It's not Rick or Shane I gotta worry about.
It's what I'll do to myself.
The surgical supplies are easy to find, and it takes no time at all to fill one of the backpacks with everything. And the respirator tube is sitting right in view.
It's the respirator itself that becomes an issue.
"Come on, where is it, where is it?" I grumble to myself as I try to hunt down the damn thing. Of course, it's gonna be hidden somewhere, instead of out in the open for someone to find when they need it.
Who the hell stocked this trailer? If they're still alive, I'd like to give them a piece of my mind.
I move different items aside on the shelves, whether it's meds, tools, or hell, other machinery. With some of the stuff back here, we could maybe come back sometime down the road and pick up all this stuff. But right now, no extra, nothing else is important.
There!
I clear a shelf in frustration, and finally, I find the respirator hiding behind the shelf. It doesn't take much to reach back and get it, and outside of fussing with cord snagging on the shelf, it's pretty easy to get it in the backpack.
The noise outside is still as prominent as ever, and once I leave the trailer, it's no longer muffled, however slight it was, by the walls and doors of the trailer.
At this point… well, it's safe to say that most of the parking lot is a dark red from all that blood, coagulated and rotted from sitting inside walking corpses. And John…
Jesus Christ, the kid's hands are covered in the shit. And… honestly, it's a little off-putting, watching this. John's got a big ol' grin on his face.
Now, I'm not like Hershel. I appease the man by bringing nearby dead ones to his barn. But… I know better. They're dead. And though I don't like having to shoot corpses, I do it because I gotta. Don't mean I gotta enjoy it. A part of me still feels like it's desecration.
So seeing this… it's less than pleasant.
"JOHN!" I shout out, and it somehow makes it through all the commotion as John pauses, a walker gripped in his hand, clawing away at him to no avail, as the kid fixes his gaze on me. "I got what we need, let's go!"
John nods and throws the walker away like a piece of trash, and I turn and begin running down the steps. My shouting got some of the attention on me, but even I should be able to outrun them, and the truck's not parked that far.
However, once I make it down the steps, I learn that I ain't gonna have to run at all.
I'll tell you, it's more than a little weird having a kid that's at least thirty years my junior pick me off the ground like a bag of leaves and run like a bat out of hell. All I get out is a surprised grunt, but I don't get the chance to say anything, too caught off-guard by the entire motion and the speed where I'm moving at.
Enough so to not really notice the blood now staining my shirt and pants from John's hands.
The kid clears the entire distance to the truck easily enough, and he drops me to my feet before literally leaping over the truck to his side.
It takes a bit to get my bearings, but once I do, I toss the now slightly bloody backpacks into the truck bed and throw open the driver side door, hopping in as quick as I can manage. The truck starts easy enough, and by now, John's already on his side of the truck, eyeing the school in the mirror a fair distance away.
I throw the truck into first gear and take off, more than eager to get back.
This… went easier than I thought it would've honestly.
"Thanks." I can't help but to say to John. He kept the dead distracted, and he pretty much hauled my butt out of there once I got what we needed. If it had been anyone else… Well, I don't think it'd have gone as smoothly as it did.
"Don't mention it." John says with a glance towards me. "Thank you for coming. I wouldn't know the first thing to look for."
"I put that boy in that bed." I say, a solemn expression crossing over my face. "I'll do my damndest to get him out."
And I mean that.
Rachel
"Shot?"
It wasn't until we all got back to the highway that Shane really went in depth with what happened. How Carl was shot, why he rode in on a horse with some woman, where Rick and Carl were…
"Happened not too far from the church." Shane explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. Whether he's frustrated at having to explain, or just the situation in general, I'm not sure. "Some older fella, Otis, was hunting a buck we found. Me and Rick let Carl walk up the deer a little, then the bullet came through. Hit Carl in the stomach."
"Is Carl alright?" Amy asked, concerned in her tone as she voiced the question on everyone's mind.
"Not at the moment." Shane answered honestly as he let out a sigh. "Older fella, Hershel, it's his farm they're at right now. Carl's in bad shape, and they're waiting on supplies so Hershel can perform surgery."
"Surgery?" Jacqui gasps in horror, and hand coming to cover her mouth shock. "Dear god, how bad is it?"
"Bullet split apart in fragments." Shane responds as he turns to glance towards Jacqui. "Rick's there to give blood when needed, but Hershel was only able to get one fragment out, and I had to hold Carl down while it was happening."
Jesus Christ… the poor guy woke up while a bullet fragment was being removed from his stomach? I can only imagine how painful that is.
I've been shot before, but the kind of heat I can generate pretty much incinerates the bullet completely, letting me gather some external flames to heal. I've never had to have a bullet removed.
And for it to be a nine-year-old boy…
"Couldn't you help out?" Andrea asked, turning her attention towards Jenner.
The doctor nodded his head in response. "I have minimal skill in the surgical field, but I know enough that I could at least help."
Shane nodded his head, a look of gratitude on his face. "Well, I appreciate it. Everyone needs to get loaded up, we're heading down to the farm."
While I definitely want to make sure Carl's gonna be okay, be there for him, there's another matter that is concerning me…
Carol brings it up before I get the chance.
"What about John and Sophia?" Carol objects in disbelief, leveling a stern gaze at Shane. "We can't just leave them."
"Sophia's back at the farm." Shane reveals, to everyone's complete shock, but he doesn't even turn around to look at us. "And John's on a run with Otis, getting the supplies for Carl."
Wait, they found them? Sophia and John?
Oh my god… we're actually gonna see him again. I know we've been looking for him the entire time, but I don't think it's really sunken in. We're one car trip away from seeing John again, and I… I just can't wait.
I can feel a tugging on my sleeve, frantically I might add, and I turn down to see Shiela gripping my sleeve, bouncing up and down like the child she is, an excited smile on her face.
"We found John!"' She nearly squeals in excitement, excitement I can't help but to share in.
"I know." I say with a smile as I crouch down and pull her into a hug. It… doesn't even feel real. After nine months of harsh days, surviving, fending off bandits, walkers, scavenging, losing Peter… finally, it's all paid off. I just wish Peter could be here for it.
I wish all of them could be…
"Hey, Rachel?"
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and when I turn toward the owner of said hand, I find myself looking at Glenn.
"Is there a chance I can ride with you?" He asks me, causing my brow to furrow in confusion.
"Me?" I can't help but to voice my confusion. "Aren't you gonna be riding with Dale?"
"We're gonna be tailing Shane." Glenn explains, actually looking sheepish as he asks the question. "So Dale doesn't need me in the RV to read the map."
"Okay…" Admittedly, I'm still a little confused by why he's asking me for a ride. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against it, not at all, but… well, me and Shiela are the new people here, and I guess we don't really feel… at home.
Not yet anyway.
But Glenn apparently sees my confusion, since he opts to elaborate.
"I wanna know more about John." He clarifies. "I was the one who first met him, learned who he was before anyone else. But… I don't know as much about him as I'd like."
Ah, that makes sense. John's not necessarily secretive, in fact there's only one thing in his life he doesn't talk about, but he doesn't really go out of his way to tell people about himself unless people ask questions.
I smile at Glenn, and nod towards the car me and Shiela took to get here. "Well, hop in." I invite him. "We have plenty of stories to share."
"Oh!" Shiela is suddenly hopping up and down next to us, catching our attention as we turn to look at the twelve-year-old. "Can I tell the story about when John accidentally busted the Red Hawk?!"
I can't help the grin on my face as I recall the story myself. "Perfect start!" I agree as I turn to Glenn. "You'll love this one."
John
Well, that was… easy.
Honestly, it really doesn't even feel like we were there for more than a minute. I just started splattering walkers all over the place, and then, it seemed like Otis was done and we were gone.
It probably was about like that, but still… damn, it just felt like it was going by so fast.
Then again, time flies when your having fun.
I'm not sure it's a good thing that I enjoyed that.
I mean, I hate walkers. After the quarry, all I can feel is a burning hatred whenever I see them. But… I don't know, I feel like maybe I enjoyed ripping the apart a bit too much. I mean, I was turning some of them into… Well, they aren't exactly alive, but the term living weapon still applies in a sense.
I feel like I might've gotten a bit too carried away.
There's a part of me, deep down, that recognizes this as a form of desecration. I mean, regardless of… status, I guess, all walkers are corpses.
Then again, this virus keeps them from being truly at peace. At least, I'd wager that guess. A mindless husk that's up, moving, hoping to feast on living flesh, but you're not completely dead either.
I do remember what Jenner told us back at the CDC. That the virus does kill you. But there's gotta be something left alive inside for the virus to reanimate you.
Just nothing that keeps you… human.
I don't know, I guess a part of me is sickened with myself that I enjoyed slamming walkers like that. Turning them into weapons, splattering them all over the place, everything of that sort.
I imagine Otis is a little unnerved, and to be quite frank, I can only be glad the rest of the group didn't see this.
Now that I think about it, no one other than Otis has actually seen me fighting walkers. I mean, sure, there was the quarry, and the CDC, but I stuck to the rifle at the quarry and nobody really saw me behind the rest of the group, too focused on getting out alive.
It's one thing to just shoot them. Put a bullet in their brain, a knife to the skull, just be done with it.
It's another thing entirely to do what I do. Just… walk right up and punch them. Difference between me and anyone else is that a normal person is just gonna have a pissed off walker coming at them, while I cave in their whole skull.
I can crush skulls with one hand, and as I've demonstrated, I can turn fully grown adults, dead or alive, into human sledgehammers. I mean, they hit like one would if I were singing.
Now that I'm thinking about it… I guess I'm just nervous. Rick, Shane, and I'm assuming at least Daryl has seen the aftermath of what I can do, but they haven't actually seen me in action.
A part of me wonders if I'll scare some people, cutting loose. I mean, you gotta admit, crushing and ripping walkers apart is still a little bit more morbid and uneasy than just shooting them and being done with it.
"You okay kid?" Otis' voice jolts me from my thoughts, and I allow my head to turn towards him, giving him a glance out the corner of my eye. "You've been awfully quiet over there."
"Just… thinking." I reply, though it really isn't much of an answer. Otis is keeping his eyes on the road, but I'm positive that he's paying attention to me.
"About what?" Otis presses, and something tells me he can pretty much see something nagging at me.
I let out a sigh and rub my face a bit, a habit I've developed when I'm stressed, whether it's frustration, nervousness, or something else. "I'm wondering if I may have… had a bit too much fun."
"You mean smashing walkers into each other?" Otis guesses, and he hits the nail on the head immediately.
"Yeah." I sound dejected, even I know it. "It's my first time cutting loose in… well, almost a year. About nine months." I explain to him, deciding to vent to him a little. If anything, he deserves an explanation for what he saw. "I kept the attention on me, you slipped in and out… and I guess I just got carried away."
Otis nodded his head, showing that he was listening, though I'm not too sure he understands what I mean.
"I can't imagine having that kind of strength." Otis admits with a chuckle, giving me a glance out the corner of his eye. "I mean, growing on a farm, I've been a strong man most of my life… but I really can't comprehend what it would be like to have that kind strength, being able to lift cars and stuff."
I can't help the slight chuckle that escapes me as well. "You know, I didn't either till I had it. It's… surprisingly easy to control."
"Really?" Otis said, raising an eyebrow, though he keeps his eyes on the road. "So, what's it like?"
"Honestly, it doesn't really feel different." I admit, moving my gaze back towards the window, where trees pass by as Otis drives. "When I got it, it's like I had… I don't know, an innate sense of strength?" Honestly, even now, having had these powers for two years, I'm not quite sure how to describe it. "I mean, it's extremely precise muscle control. I use enough strength to toss a dumptruck, but it's just as easy for me to open a door without mangling the knob."
"And you just… developed this sense?" Otis questioned, sounding a little confused by words.
I shake my head. "Not entirely. It still took some practice. I remember the day I got my strength, I busted the door to my bedroom on accident." I can't help but to let out another chuckle, though this one lacks mirth to it as I remember scaring Mamaw, Papaw, and Maddie. "I was too scared to touch anything. Took about a day of practice to really get a handle on things. But even then, I can lose control when I get angry."
"Ah, that's everybody." Otis waves off the last bit, too my surprise. He seems to catch my surprised gaze out the corner of his own eye, because he lets a smile come to his face and gives me a quick glance. "Sure, you gotta be more careful since your stronger than normal people, but everybody loses it a little when they get mad. Why, I remember this one incident when I was still a teenager, me and my pa had spat." He starts his own story, and I simply sit there, listening as he speaks. "He was trying to get me cut some logs up, but he wanted me to use a regular axe since our maul was busted. I argued with him about it, because I did it about three times and barely split the top. But, I got mad, and then next thing I know, I split the log clean in half."
It doesn't necessarily sound impressive, but it gets the point across. "I remember when Papaw took me out logging." I say with a fond smile on my face. "I had my strength by then, the first log he gave me had a gigantic knot in it."
"Still split the log, didn't you?" Otis guessed with a smile, to which I shake my head.
"Not with the axe. The blade hit the knot, and the next thing I know, I'm staring at the broken handle in my hands while the top half is embedded into the log. Papaw told me never to touch his axes again, and to just tear the damn logs in two with my hands."
Uproaring laughter fills the truck as Otis absolutely loses it in amusement as I finish the story.
"You busted the axe?!" Otis manages to get out between his fits of laughter, and I have to admit I start laughing as well as I remember that day.
"Oh yeah, I can't begin to tell you how scared I was when I saw what I did." I admit as as my laughter dies down to chuckles. "Papaw just stared at the broken handle in my hand, and then looked me dead in the eye and said 'John, next time we go logging, don't touch one of my axes. You can rip the damn thing apart.'"
"All that strength, but still a learning teenager, ain't you?" Otis jokes, and I nod my head in agreement. He's not wrong. "I'll tell you what, I remember when Jimmy first started helping on the farm, about two years ago I'd reckon. He was so excited to learn how to ride a horse, help get around the farm, and it was me and Maggie who taught him."
"How'd that play out?" I ask, genuinely curious. Otis starts chuckling in response.
"He snapped them reins, and the horse took off on him." Otis answered with a grin, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. "Boy flipped right off the horse, landed on his back with his knees to his shoulders. Me and Maggie laughing, Shawn's up on the porch losing it, and even ol' Hershel has a grin on his face. Was funnier when Beth came running off the porch shouting at him."
"He and Beth are together?" I'm pretty sure Hershel mentioned something like that last night at dinner.
Otis nodded. "Yep. Met in school. As a matter of fact, Beth was the one who talked to Hershel about letting Jimmy help out on the farm, and I gotta appreciate it. Stamina's not exactly something I have in abundance these days."
I know it might be a little rude, but I can't help the stifled chuckles that escape me. Luckily, Otis seems to take it in good nature, chuckling as well.
As our chuckles die down, we fall into a comfortable silence.
It's a peaceful trip all the way to the farm.
Rachel
The farm's… nice.
Admittedly, it's a little jarring, being in a place with running water and electricity after so long out on the road.
Shiela's getting to know Sophia, Carol's daughter. Once we got to the farm, Carol pretty much collapsed to the ground in order to hug her daughter. Sophia seems like a nice girl, if a little shy.
Though, if what I heard last night is any indication, her father wasn't exactly a kind man.
I haven't really met too many of the people here at the farm. I've mostly just sat to myself, kind of eyeing everything.
It's funny. Before all this, I'd be chatting up a storm with everyone, trying to make friends with everybody and keep spirits high.
Then again, Carl would be in an operating room before all this, not a guest bedroom at a farm house.
Beth and Jimmy approached me, trying to be friendly, and I appreciate the gesture. They told me stories about their lives, asked me questions, tried to start a conversation… but I just wasn't in the mood.
It might be easy for Shiela to distract herself, but not me. I can't stop the sense of anticipation, and a small amount of nervousness, that's currently flooding me.
We'll see John again. We don't have to look for him anymore, we've found him.
Now… it's just the waiting game.
I'm honestly not sure how I'll react. Emotional reunions and stuff like that… I mean, you always hear about or see in films how it's always full of tears, of intense feelings, and stuff like that, but… I just don't know what's gonna happen.
I do know that every second that ticks by, however, concern builds alongside the apprehension, since Carl's still in the guest room.
Rick and Lori are in there with him. Rick's to the point where he can barely stand, he's given so much blood. He's kind of woozy from what I've seen, but he's still coherent.
Shane's opted to wait in the living room with me and Carol, while most of the others are outside setting up camp. If I'm right, Glenn's out on the porch right now, conversing with Maggie.
He sure got a kick out of the stories we told on the way here, but the story about John and the Red Hawk…
Let me just say this: Do not challenge a teenager with super-strength to try and lift a Blackbird by the nose… it doesn't end well.
The older woman, Patricia, I haven't seen much of her, mostly because she's been Hershel's nurse of sorts, helping him tend to Carl while we wait.
At least when John does get back, it boasts two bits of good news.
I feel a pair of knuckles bump against my arm, and I turn my head towards Shane, who's sitting on the couch with me.
"You've been awfully quiet." He noted, a small grin on his face as he says it. "Excited?"
Yes, by god, yes I am. But… "I'm just… a little nervous too." I can't help but to admit, rubbing the back of my neck in an almost sheepish manner as I shoot him a small smile. "I haven't seen John in nine months. Jesus… it's almost been a year."
"Well, sitting here thinking about it is only gonna make time tick slower." Shane joked with a smile, before his face falls as his gaze wanders towards the door to the guest room currently housing Carl. "I could use some conversation myself."
"Well, if I know John, Carl and this Otis guy will be just fine." I can't help but to say, resting a hand on Shane's shoulder in a reassuring manner.
From what Shane told us, both before and after we got here, Otis was the one who accidentally shot Carl, and he absolutely refused to let John go get the supplies alone.
Considering John's shit sense of direction and the fact that he can't read a map for anything, I'd say it's a good thing. Besides, John will keep Otis safe, that much I know.
Shane spared a glance at me, before letting another smile grace his features as he chuckled. "Ain't I supposed to be reassuring you?"
I let out a shrug. "The dead are walking, nothing's normal anymore." Though it might be a bit morbid, the joke works its magic as Shane's small smile widens into a broad grin as another set of chuckles escape him.
"I guess not." He says as he moves his gaze up, not really looking at anything in particular. "You know, when I first met John, pretty much the first thing out of his mouth was 'How can I help?'"
I can't help but to raise an amused eyebrow at his words. "Wasn't John already at your camp?"
Shane nods. "Yep. You know, I remember when I helped him set up his tent." He pauses for a moment as he lets a small laugh escape him. "I sat there, fighting with the damn thing for about ten minutes while John's sitting there smiling. Then he offers to help, I agree, and next thing I know, we're laughing at each other cause we're both fighting with it."
I honestly can't help the giggles that escape me as I remember John's first official mission with me and Peter to Nebraska. "John's first actual mission with me and Peter was a trip to Nebraska." I begin, a smile on my face as I recall the memory. "We were getting reports of a living tree, and we spent the night there looking for it. I remember John offering to set up the tents while me and Peter scoped around, since he himself knows that he's a lost puppy in the woods."
Shane has a massive grin on his face as I tell the story. "Let me guess, he failed miserably?"
"We could hear John grumbling before we actually made it back to the campsite." I say with a smile, shaking my head a little in amusement. "We actually had to put one of the tents away and get a spare because John had snapped one of the poles on accident, and Peter ended up putting the tents together while John felt like a kicked puppy. Made him feel useless, a liability."
"Was he?" The tone in Shane's voice says he already knows the answer, but I'm having fun telling the story, so I'll indulge him.
"Far from it, actually." I say with a fond smile. "When we found the 'living tree' the next day, we found it was literally some wackjob woman who could control plants. She'd made a space for her to hide within a massive redwood, walked around on it's roots."
"I imagine it wasn't exactly suited to fight you? With the flames and all."
"True." I concede that point. "As a matter of fact, she was severely outmatched. I could burn the entire forest down if I wanted too, and John and Peter could bulldoze through anything that she could throw at them, but it was this trip when we discovered John's thunderclap."
Shane raised an eyebrow, visible confusion on his face at that last bit. "Thunderclap?"
"Another thing about John ripped straight out of comics." I remark with a shake of my head. "You ever heard John clap?"
Shane's brow scrunched, expression turning to one of thought for a moment. "A few times, here and there, but nothing that really catches my attention."
"Then you haven't seen him clap like I have." I can't help but to smirk. "He got pissed at this woman snagging him with vines, plants, trees, even grass, and eventually, he just slammed his hands together, and pretty much obliterated the tree and the surrounding forest."
Not to mention my back when I slammed into a tree, but it didn't hurt too bad. Just ached a bit.
Shane's eyes widen in amazement at my words, and lets a low whistle escape him. "Damn. I'd hate to be nearby when that happened."
I nod my head. "It's nice to watch from a distance, believe me, but when you're too close, it'll either make you go deaf and send you flying if you're in range."
"You know, I remember John clearing some cars off the highway yesterday." Shane piped up with a smile. "Even though I knew who he was then, it was still something to see teenager lift some cars, trucks, and anything else in the way like it was a toy. Just dragged them right off the road."
I can't help but laugh at his words. "Believe it or not, I was that way too. Even after I got my powers, it took a bit for me to get used to them, and then again when seeing all the different stuff other people could do."
"How long have you had your powers?"
"Since I was nine."
At that, Shane's eyes go wide, before his expression turns to one of sympathy.
It is, or rather was, public if generally uncommon knowledge that superhumans develop their abilities in response to extreme stress. Considering that, and the look on Shane's face right now…
"I can't imagine what could've cause you to develop powers at that age." Shane says, sympathetic in tone as well as expression.
My face falls a little bit as I recall the day very vividly. My parents had gotten into yet another argument of the time while me and my brother were watching, and my powers activated after I snapped at them, and…
Well, my brother has burn scars on most of the right side of his body. It's a wonder he didn't hate or fear me after the incident. As a matter of fact, when he woke up at the hospital, the first thing he did was ask where I was.
I miss him.
"Let's just say that my parents had a rough patch that was… stressful on all of us." I like Shane, I really do, but I haven't known him that long. I'm just not comfortable telling him that story yet.
But Shane seems to understand, and he let's it go. "Hey, that's fine." He says with a small smile. "That's a story you tell when you're ready to tell it."
I can't help but to give him a grateful smile in response.
From what I've gathered so far, Shane honestly seems like a good person. He's understanding, maybe a bit gruff at first, but he can be a real jokester and he's good at distractions, while at the same time knowing when to focus on the goal.
At least from what I've seen, but I've only known him for a day, though.
Any further conversation is interrupted by the sound of a vehicle coming down the driveway, and pretty much everyone in the living room stands up to see outside for who it could be, whether looking out the door or through a window.
"Who's that?" Shiela asks, tilting her head curiously as she glances towards me and Shane.
Shane steps away from the couch and moves towards the front door, opening it and looking through the screen door for a moment, for opening it too for a better view.
And then he smiles.
"Stay here for a sec." He says, barely giving me a glance, before moving out of the door.
I can't help the confusion in my face, but it only lasts for a moment as the realization sets in.
I admittedly startle Carol as I move past the chairs, making my way towards the window hurriedly to see who's outside.
Anyone who's out setting up camp has their eyes on the vehicle, which I can see know is an older-model Ford truck, as it pulls to a stop just outside the house. Shane approaches the truck with a smile on his face as the engine of the truck goes quiet.
And then both doors open.
And though I can see both occupants stepping out, my eyes settle on the one who was in the passenger seat.
My breathing stops.
My heart skips a beat.
So many emotions fly through me right now.
Even after nine months… after so long of not seeing him… I'd recognize those features anywhere.
The angled jaw, the long, messy black hair… the large, muscular physique making up the six foot frame… the broad shoulders… even his clothes are mostly similar, with the exception of a plain white shirt…
I can't believe it.
John…
I can just barely hear, let alone process, the sounds of conversation as John and the man who I'm assuming is Otis move to the bed of the truck, grabbing some backpacks out of it. They speak to Shane for a moment, before the former cop seems to go ahead and send Otis in the house.
"Who is it, Rachel?" Shiela asks me, finally snapping me out of my trance, if only barely, as I turn to look at the twelve-year-old.
"I-It's…" I can't even get the words to form… I don't even… I don't…
I don't know what to say, I'm just so happy. It's like there's too many emotions for my brain to even process words.
The sound of the door opening catches our attention, and we watch the big man come inside, but he doesn't even spare a glance as he makes his way towards the guest room where Carl is.
And then, that's when I finally get my thoughts at least somewhat coherent.
I'm only just now feeling the tears flowing down my face, and it's taking everything I have not to rush outside right now…
But Shiela goes first.
"Go to the door." I say, hiccuping a little from trying to hold back sobs as I gesture towards the door. "Take a look."
Shiela's face scrunches in concerned confusion, and she gives a quick glance towards Sophia, before moving towards the door.
I'm right on her tail as she does so.
Shiela steps out onto the porch as she takes a look towards the truck… and then she freezes.
Her entire face morphs into shock as she stares at John, who has yet to notice use, conversing with Shane about something…
But whatever it is… it's interrupted.
I glance down towards Shiela, and I can see her lips just barely move, but just barely, I can hear her whisper.
"John…" She mumbles in absolute disbelief.
And then she's off like a missile.
"JOHN!"
John's gaze almost immediately snaps in Shiela's direction, while I opt to stand on the porch.
This is a family reunion that's long overdue.
John's face morphs through so many different expressions in less than a second, from surprise, to shock, to disbelief, as he stumbles forward past Shane for a second.
"Shiela?" He mutters, and his voice has a noticeable quiver to it, I can hear it from here on the porch as Shiela's practically sobbing before she even reaches her brother.
John collapses to his knees as Shiela's small form slams into him, her arms flinging around his neck as she sobs into his shoulder, as months upon months upon months of searching finally pay off, and she gets to see her older brother in person again. John's hands almost immediately come up to pull her into a hug, his face still one of complete shock and disbelief, before it morphs into an expression of unimaginable relief as he tucks his own face into Shiela's shoulder
I feel a pair of hands on my arm, and turn my tearfilled gaze to find Carol, looking up at me with a smile.
"Go on." She says, gesturing towards John and Sheila.
I give the woman a smile, before nodding, making an admittedly futile attempt to wipe my tears as I quickly make my way off the porch and down the steps, moving quickly towards my best friends.
As I grow closer, I notice John's shoulders jerking, and the sounds of his own quiet sobs mixed with Shiela's louder ones become more and more audible.
"I missed you so mu-u-uch!" Shiela manages to get out between sobs, though it's muffled by John's shoulder.
"I missed you too Shiela…" John's voice is almost a whisper as he says it, though it's not as muffled since it's his eyes rather than his entire face pressed into his little sister's shoulder.
I can see smiles coming from various members of the group from my peripheral vision, but none of that has my attention as I watch the touching scene in front of me.
Then John lifts his head off of Shiela's shoulder, and his own bleary eyes land on me almost immediately.
"Rachel?" My name is almost a breath as it leaves his lips, and only then does Shiela step away, her tear-filled gaze glancing towards me, though her hands have a grip on the shoulders of John's shirt like a life-line.
John doesn't try to make her let go for a second. Instead, he picks her right up off the ground as he stands to his feet, making his way towards me as he opens up one arm.
An offer for a hug.
And any hope of staying composed at all crumbles.
A sob escapes my throat as I gladly throw my arms around John, who stands just as firm as he always does, giving the slightest little bit of give so I don't hurt myself, but right now, I could care less if I break my back for all I care.
I practically melt into him as I let sobs of relief and joy escape openly, and if my hands tug his shirt anymore, I might rip it, but I just don't care!
We found him! He's actually here!
"I-It's so g-good to see y-you." I manage to get out between my own sobs, tucking my head into his chest and just… basking in his presence, taking in the warmth of him, the feel of him in my arms, of his own arm around me….
I can feel his hand running through my hair, and he's got his arm tugging tightly around me as I hear him speak.
"It's good to see you too, Rach…" John mutters, a quiver in his voice as he speaks.
Finally… after so long…
John's here. With us.
A/N: And that's the chapter.
This one took a while because I was debating on how to go about it. I knew I wanted the reunion to happen in this chapter, but I honestly wasn't sure how much of the episode to really cut back on, and I wanted to convey as much emotion as I could during the reunion.
Honestly, I'm not sure I'm happy with it, and I'm more than interested to hear all of your thoughts on how it played out.
Anyway, that's all for now, and I hope you enjoyed it. I'll see you all in the next chapter.