Chapter 2- Alicia
The boat beached along the newly formed river, being wildly thrown around on the trip. Multiple times Alicia believed that she was going to be sick, or even worse, fall off the boat completely.
Simultaneously managing to keep Strand on the boat with her, and also making sure she didn't fall off as well proved to be a challenge. During the destruction of the dam, and the boat eventually getting sucked into what almost felt like a whirlpool, Victor Strand had been struck by a rock. Alicia did not know where, how big the rock was, or how bad the wound was, but she knew it was bad enough to nearly incapacitate him. Alicia was forced to hold him to stabilize him, praying that their offset weight did not tip the boat over.
They had lost her mother very quickly after the explosion. As the waters rocked around them she had tipped over and fallen into the water. Alicia was shocked. Despite this, she didn't attempt to go after her. Neither did she especially bat an eye when Alicia noticed she was gone.
While the two propelled throughout Tijuana, Alicia saw many faces on the banks of the river. Many men, women, children, all gathered to collect the newly unlimited water.
Part of it was nearly beautiful. The idea of people being able to freely access such a valuable resource now would have made her smile, but she knew the backstory behind it. She knew she lost her brother, her mother, people who had kept her safe, and that idea soured the moment for her.
Alicia felt the boat land on the bank of the river, the night sky darkening her surroundings. The moon was their only form of light.
Finally she had a moment to breathe and not to worry about her impending doom. She got down low and whispered, "Strand, are you alright? You alive?"
Through the pain Strand responded, "Yes I am Miss Clark, as alive as I'll ever be."
She laughed, a quiet laugh under her breath. Victor Strand's exuberant personality never failed to show, no matter the circumstances.
"Let me see it. How bad is it?"
Alicia now got the chance to look down at him. His shirt was now drenched in his blood. His face looked weary and tired. She remembered the signs of blood loss from back in school. Cold skin, being tired, feeling weak, quick and shallow breathing.
"I can try to show you." Strand slowly moved his hands down, they shook as he moved them.
His wound was gash on the left side of his stomach. Alicia presumed that a sharp stone had been thrown and hit Strand in the crossfire.
In her attempts to help him, Alicia removed the switchblade she had been keeping in her right boot. She took the blade and sliced the bottom of her shirt off, leaving it right above her belly button. I need a new shirt now I guess she thought, laughing to herself.
She took the fabric and ripped it in two. She placed the two strands on his wound in an intersecting pattern.
"Try your best to apply pressure to the gash, it'll stop the bleeding."
Victor nodded and did as he was told. "So Alicia," he sat up on the boat, wincing in pain as he did so, and looking around at where they were, "what's the plan?"
Alicia looked around. The sights that caught her eye were not very inviting. Even though Alicia was partly glad her mothers iron grip wasn't around her, she did miss how she seemingly always had a plan of where to go.
She shook her head. "I have no idea," she looked at Victor's face, "first we have get you better. Then we can go looking around for survivors."
Survivors. That word made her shudder. Especially when it came to Nick. She always hated thinking about her brother dying. Even back when they were in school and he'd disappear for weeks at a time and her mother would run the house like a dictator until he came back.
She cried a lot during those times. Alicia was 14 when he started using and she always wondered how old she would be when her mother finally got the call. But she never did.
She thought about the others who may have died. Mom. Daniel. Taqa. Lee. John.
John. That creep. She hoped and prayed he was dead. The way he talked about her and took interest in her made Alicia's skin crawl. She never felt safe around any of them, and she was glad she could escape.
She said a silent thank you to Nick for allowing that to happen.
"I'll be fine Alicia. My health should be the least of your worries."
Alicia knew she couldn't do that, she knew Strand would be her protection in this foreign country. She knew that in situations she just couldn't manage, Victor would come in and use his charm and his silver tongue to protect them. A skill Alicia just didn't have.
"Still," she persisted. "I'm not gonna leave you for dead."
Victor chuckled, "If you insist, Miss Clark."
Alicia's next focus was finding somewhere for them to stay for the night. Even in Mexico the two wouldn't be able to survive the night. Walkers would find them if they stayed in the boat, they were a ringing dinner bell if they sat in the boat all night.
Almost on cue, the snarling of a walker was faintly heard in the distance.
She stood up, looking as to where the walker was coming from. The noise brought her attention to the edge of a river bank.
A body was crawling out of the water, mindlessly flailing its arms in hopes of grabbing an unsuspecting passerby.
Her foot hit the wet concrete that was the river bank. Gripping the switchblade in her hand, feeling the polished wood handle.
As she got closer to the walker, she got a good look at it. It was a woman, about the same age as Alicia herself. She wore a blood soaked dress. Maybe this could have been me. The thought crept into her head.
She had gotten skilled at blocking out thinking of the walker as human, but every now and again she wondered who they were. Their hopes and dreams, all dashed away with one bite.
The walker tried to grab Alicia's combat boots, she stepped her foot back and plunged the switchblade into the walker's left temple. The squishing sound was one she has gotten unfortunately used to. The walker stopped its movement. Alicia brought her foot up and pushed the walker back into the flowing rapids. The body disappeared into the water.
As soon as the walker was gone, more moans were heard in the distance. With the aid of the moonlight 4 walkers were seen clumsily stumbling in from the east. Alicia could take one or two on her own with the switchblade, but 4 was too much for her to even risk.
She ran back over to the boat with Strand laying in it, gripping his wound, the cloth now becoming red.
"We need to go, now." She looked down at him, he looked slightly pale.
"Walkers?"
She nodded. "Can you walk?"
He nodded back, and began to get up, still looking pained. Through his pained breaths he choked out, "If I can walk, I can fight. Hell, it might even be better than running."
Alicia wanted to tell him no, but she knew it was their best option. If they ran the walkers would just follow them and catch them, especially in Victor's state.
"There's a pipe by the fence, if you take the pipe I'll take your knife." He looked back over to the walkers, "I can barely move my arm without my stomach hurting like hell. The knife has less movement and I can kill effectively."
Alicia agreed. She put the knife into his hand and rushed off, seeing the lead pipe Strand was referencing.
Grabbing it and returning to her previous position, Strand now standing beside her, they begun their attack.
The first walker approached, moaning and looking into Alicia's unmoved face. She swung the pipe, hitting the walker in the forehand just above it's right eye, blood splattering as she did so. The walker fell limp and her focus turned towards the remaining undead.
Strand had killed a walker as well, stabbing it in the back of its head as it tried to grab him. As he regained his composure, pain being evident on his face, a walker grabbed his arm.
Now instinctively, Alicia set into motion. Lifting the pipe above her head, feeling it's weight, she guessed about 10 pounds, and combined with her strength, she let the pipe fall onto the top of the walkers head. A loud crunch could be heard, that of the skull being broken.
When she pulled the pipe back, she paused as she saw brain matter covering her weapon. She looked to Strand, his nerves were shaken up but he breathed a sigh of relief.
All of sudden, his eyes widened in shock. Almost in slow motion, she saw his mouth move. "Alicia! Behin-"
The dead hands grabbed her. She turned her body downwards in order to escape the bite that was coming for her neck. The walker tried to hold on but fell in its attempt. Alicia saw the grayed skin of its head and picked her boot up, and then brought it down forcefully.
3 powerful stomps was all it took to kill the walker, it's guttural moaning getting more and more rein each time she did so. Blood now covered her boot.
I'm an idiot. I froze and I could have been killed. She resented herself for allowing her to freeze so easily at the sight of blood and guts. The switch between her pre-apocalypse mind and post-apocalypse mind, which she had become skilled at, failed in a dire moment.
Strand stood up from the ground, blood covering his hands. "Alicia," he begun, "I know I may not in the best position to make orders, but I suggest we figure out what to do for the night and how to properly dress my wound."
Alicia nodded. "We need to find some alcohol, to prevent infection." As Strand walked he staggered, Alicia offered herself as a rest for him to better support himself. She continued, "And a needle and thread."
"And antibiotics."
"And antibiotics." Alicia repeated, now realizing the mounting task that would be ahead of her.
Together they walked through an alley which had stairs leading down to the bank, Strand desperately needing the assistance Alicia was granting her. His weight pulling her down.
The alley led into a street with now abandoned cars lining the road. She saw a few lone walkers, their attention not yet grabbed by the two, roaming around. To her right she saw houses with gates posted up, all closed and assumedly locked. To her left she saw the same, but one with a gate open.
"There, we're gonna rest in that house and we'll find medicine in the morning."
Strand nodded, remaining silent. They trudged over to the open gate, peaking inside to see what the situation of the house was.
The yard was thankfully empty, with a house laying to the right and an old red Ford truck laying in the driveway. A separate and larger gate for the truck was locked.
Alicia turned the doorknob, the door opened with a creak. As the creak sounded out, she held her breath. She was still shaken up over the incident with the walker down by the bank, her thoughts raced. Maybe I can't even handle one walker if one snuck up on me so easily.
Her thoughts were silenced by a quiet but ghastly growl. She felt her eyes squint in order to see the walker in the dark, and the thoughts of doubt washed away.
Strand handed her knife back to her, and she felt it in her hand. Ready to attack at will.
Strand sat back on the doorframe, without saying a word she knew he was allowing Alicia to proceed with clearing out the house, he likely now knew it would be best to sit this one out.
Alicia slowly walked into the nearly pitch black house. The only sounds being her breathing, her footsteps, and the walker's muffled growls.
She now realized where the infected's calls were emitting from, a wooden door directly in front of her. She made it to the door handle by feeling down the wall until she felt the metal in her hand
She turned it slightly, enough to know whether or not the door was locked. It wasn't.
Her back was positioned against the wall in order to open the door and handle the walker without being in bad positioning.
She turned the handle and opened the door, she heard the walker shamble out of the door, looking for its next meal.
In the moonlight she saw the back of its head, and she struck. Moving forward and firmly stabbing the switchblade into the back of the walker's head. She pulled the blade out and the walker fell. Now it laid in the moonlight, fully in Alicia's view.
A little girl. A starved and scared little girl with boney arms and a gaunt face. That was the monster that she had killed without a second thought. She almost paused again, she almost cried. But she didn't. She fought the tears back and she won.
You can't cry at every piece of roadkill you see. Her dad had told her, never sparing any punches. She couldn't have been older than 8. She saw a dead racoon on the side of the road on their way to vacation in Oregon. She remembered she cried, she couldn't handle the idea of a defenseless animal dying, it made her sick.
The little girl reminded her of the girl on the island, in the midst of all of the death that had surrounded her, she didn't even remember the girl's name. And she didn't try especially hard to, either.
"Is it done?" Strand solemnly asked from the door, seeing the walker Alicia put down.
She shook her head in confirmation. Strand walked over and grabbed the girls arms while Alicia grabbed it's legs. Together they pulled it out of the house and threw the body into the dirt yard.
"We gotta get some rest." Alicia said, looking at the two couches, one for each of them.
They finally rested onto the couches, feeling the first comfortable feeling they had felt all day. As she relaxed, Alicia finally let everything hit her. Looking over to make sure the door was closed, she felt the tears come.
She felt her face contort, against her own will, into a crying mess. The hot and salty tears fell down her face.
Everything hit her, the explosion, her mom, Nick, Jake, Ofelia, the Proctors, everything.
It shocked her when she thought about it, the world was normal just 3 months ago. She was in school, trying to get into UCLA to be a nurse, dating Matt. Matt. A name she had tried to block out of her mind. Poor Matt. Her heart broke. If she believed in God, she would have prayed that someone put him down.
"Hey, hey now, what's wrong." Strand asked, sitting up, still grabbing onto his wound with the now bloodied rags.
Alicia tried to speak, but all that came out were a mess of whimpers and sobs.
Victor held onto her, his skin was cold and clammy. He never said anything, from Alicia's perspective, he understood what caused her such pain without her saying it.
As Victor held on, her cries slowly stopped. As they stopped, she couldn't fight the sleep overtaking her body any longer. It's grasps pulled her into slumber, she hoped the nightmares didn't follow.
She sat down at the table. It was Thanksgiving. Football played on the TV in the living room, the recliner in front remaining empty. Her mother took the turkey out of the oven, sticking a thermometer in and reading the temperature carefully.
She looked over at Alicia, sitting at the front of the table. "Alicia, honey, can you take the green bean casserole out of the oven? It should be about done."
Alicia looked at her mother. She was wearing an apron that read, "God blessed this home" in black and white text.
Her eyes wandered, family pictures hung up all over the wall. Various vacations and moments captured forever. Their vacation to Europe; pictures from London, Paris, Rome, and Dublin. Nick's graduation, her parent's wedding, Alicia being selected to academic all-state when she played softball her Freshman year, Nick in front of his first apartment.
Alicia moved to open the white oven when a voice came from behind the two women, "Madison, I think it's about time for Alicia to cut the turkey. She's 18 now, if she can be arrested she can cut the damn turkey." Her father joked.
She looked at him, he was a large man, standing 6'4 and 230 pounds. He had now graying hair with lines covering his face. He wore a red flannel in combination with his work jeans, a common outfit for the man.
A ring on the doorbell sounded. "Uh oh, we might have trouble coming in." He said, laughing his booming and jovial laugh. A laugh which came from the heart.
Madison scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stephen go get the damn door."
He obliged and walked over, opening the door and exclaiming "Nick! My boy!" Alicia looked back, she saw Nick and his girlfriend, Gloria. Her father looked to Gloria and said, "Have you been keeping this rascal in check?"
Giggling, she said, "I've been doing the best I can Mr. Clark."
She could hear her father audibly scoff, "Gloria call me Stephen already, it's been how many years and you still call me Mr. Clark? You aren't 16 anymore."
They laughed and came in. Nick wore a floral dress shirt with khakis and some sneakers. Gloria wore a checkered blouse and jeans with some doc martins.
"Hey mom," Nick started, "Mr. Manawa should be coming soon, I ran into him at the Chevron when I was getting gas."
Alicia thought back to her English teacher, she remembered they had just finished To Kill A Mockingbird when school let out for Thanksgiving. She enjoyed the way he taught the book, but she dreaded reading the literature.
"You invited Mr. Manawa?" Alicia asked.
"Yeah I did, I figure with his rough divorce and his son living with his mother now, it's the least I can do as his coworker and friend."
"Oh Nick you made it just in time, Alicia was about to carve her first ever Thanksgiving turkey." Her father announced to her brother.
Her mother handed her the carving knife. Motioning for her to take it.
"I think she'll do pretty good, she's learned from the best y'know?" Her dad joked again, "Besides, if she can kill a little girl in cold blood then I think carving a turkey shouldn't be an issue." Everyone broke out in riotous laughter. Except Alicia.
"What..?" Was all she could manage.
"Oh please Alicia, you're a murderer honey. We all know it. It's just time for you to embrace it." Her mom said.
She awoke with tears streaming down her face, breathing hard. The morning light shone brightly on her face, emerging from the windows.
As she calmed herself down, she noticed that Strand's presence which lulled her to sleep was now gone, and she no longer felt him next to her. Worriedly her eyes darted around the room, assuming the worst. What if he died? What if he turned? Could I put him down?
On the floor she noticed an ominous sight, a trail of blood on the floor. Quickly she jumped up and prepared for the worst. Trying her best to ready herself, both physically and especially mentally for the task that may lay ahead.
The trail lead back behind a counter, with a large empty container of water sitting on top. The trail was not thick, but it was major enough to make Alicia worry.
She followed it back behind the counter, noticing Strand's body lying on the floor, his eyes were closed and sweat beaded across his face.
Alicia shook, her hands became clammy as she gripped onto her knife. Nervously she called out, "Victor? Are you okay?"
No response came.
Again she called out, "Victor?!" This time more urgently. She felt emotions welling up inside of her. She could feel even more tears falling onto her cheeks. "Victor you piece of shit, you can't do this! Wake up!" This time she found herself screaming, her voice cracking as she did so.
His eyes fluttered, and then opened. They looked lifeless. For a second, Alicia could feel her heart skip a beat, but through a series of coughs, Strand tried to speak.
She hushed him, not wanting him to waste his energy.
"I'm gonna look at it okay?" She informed him, he weakly nodded in return. She pulled up his shirt, removing the strips of cloth he had placed and inspecting his injury.
She almost laughed, her two years of medical classes in highschool never truly prepared her for this. And while yes, she was aiming to be a nurse practitioner, and she paid better attention than most, even she knew a highschool class was just touching the surface of what this entails.
The wound had all the signs of an infection. It was swollen, it smelled, and Strand obviously had been running a fever, judging from the sweat on his brow and the general weakness he was showing.
"It's infected." She gave the diagnosis solemnly, she knew this was the worst case scenario. She knew she couldn't wait around and hope that he got better. If she did that, it would certainly be a death sentence, both for Victor and for herself. She looked out the window again, knowing that she would have to search for medicine. And even then, maybe it would all be in vain. From Strand's condition, Alicia doubted whether or not he would survive for long.
She weighed her options. On one hand, they had no food, no water, and they were stuck in a foreign country with a language Alicia didn't even speak. Their clock was ticking and waiting around for Strand to recover may be pushing their luck.
But on the other hand, Strand knew Mexico. He could navigate this country for Alicia and keep her alive. Most likely better than she could do herself. She knew Strand had survived unlikely scenarios before, so maybe this wasn't so different. He could get them to safety, or at least something somewhat similar to safety.
She chose the second option.
Alicia leaned up towards Strand's ear, so he could hear her through the fever. "I'm gonna go out and get medicine for you. I'm gonna make sure you're gonna be okay." She tried her best to reassure him. Weakly, Strand nodded, acknowledging her and confirming to Alicia that he was understanding her.
Before she left to search for medicine, Alicia rummaged through the house, almost maniacally. She searched up and down for anything of value, and by the end of her search she had found a few family photos, a pistol stashed away in a drawer in what she assumed was the parent's bedroom, a new shirt for her to wear, it was navy blue with white patterns along the collar, and a pair of keys that she assumed were either to the gate or to the truck out front.
As she left the house, the smell hit her nose, nearly assaulting it. Everyday she woke up and forgot about the smell. The smell of death and of decay. The smell of bodies baking in the hot Mexico sun all day. She had gotten better at managing it, not being even half as sick as she had been in the past, but it still affected her.
She took another breath and looked down to the girl she had put down. She was faced down on the dirt with blood mingling in with her hair, the smell of rotting flesh emitting from her.
Alicia couldn't stand it. She had to do something.
In front of the house a building stood. It was a shaky metal building, constructed partly of tin roofing. It had two sets of doors, constructed of the same materials with small windows to look into. Alicia walked over and peered inside. Hundreds of pieces of random wood objects could be seen. Tables, chairs, bed frames, dressers. But no infected.
She grabbed the metal doorhandle and pulled the door opened, it slowly creaked open, its age being evident with the sound it emitted. Alicia then walked back and grabbed the body, still refusing to look at its face, and dragged the corpse into the building, nearly throwing it onto a group of half-finished dining room tables.
A small sign hung up in the workshop, hanging above various power tools that Alicia did not know the purpose of. It read, "CarpinterÃa de Ruiz."
The feeling that reading this sign brought Alicia was not one she liked to dwell on. It nearly sickened her to imagine how lively this house may have been in the past, and what story lay here. She knew she shouldn't wonder about it, it was in the past and every random house had a story exactly like this one, but it tugged at her heart.
She tried to hush her mind and focus on the task at hand. Alicia took a hair tie, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, felt for her switchblade, made sure the pistol she had found was tucked in her waistband, and set off to save Victor Strand's life.
Author's note/ I know these first two chapters have been incredibly slow! But trust me that the next few will be much more action packed and will be a lot less focused on setup for the rest of the story. And also all critiques and comments are very much appreciated, no matter how niche the communtiy is :)