We are back to present day with this chapter.

Your voice echoes so loud

I've been wandering around

Through the darkness, through them memories

I've been chasing them down

Trying to harden this ghost within me

Wherever I may go

Wherever I May Go - by Jake Etheridge

Chapter 3 - As You Fly

It was sundown when your group arrived at the prison. Your vehicle pulling in after Rick's truck. The gate only opened when Rick gave the signal, gesturing his hands out the window to a man in a prison jumpsuit.

Rick gathered everyone, and there was a rush of people who followed you into the candle lit prison. They seemed more interested in the soldiers, looking at their uniform up and down.

There was an excitement in Rick's voice as he gave the introduction, the smile on his face was bright like he just won a lottery.

"This is Sergeant James, and staff Sergeant Charles," Rick then gestured to you.

"And this is Dr. Alice Hart. They've agreed to stay with us for the winter."

When the soldiers gave a nod as greeting, you stepped forward and shook everyone's hand with a smile on your face, including a little kid with a sheriff's hat. Their doctor, Herschel, was missing a leg and he seemed quite relieved to see you.

Rick's wife, Lori, held your hand in both of hers as she thanked you for coming. There were tears in her eyes. You understood the fear, not just the fear of giving birth, but bringing a baby into this grim world. "It's ok," you whispered, "it will all be ok."

Shortly, after your arrival, you and the soldiers were assigned a separate prison cell as rooms. Placing your backpack, you looked around the brick walls and the metal frames of the bunkbed. For the first time in what felt like years, although it's only been a little over year, you have a space of your own, a privacy. You've slept in an RV with the men for the last few months, rotating to share the one bed between the 3 of you, followed by a night watch duty. Being in that tight space, you had no choice but to get well acquainted with each other.

You set on the bottom bunk bed and felt around. The prison mattress was as hard as a rock, and the pillow was rigid. But at this moment, you wouldn't trade it for anything. It might as well be a five-star hotel.

In the morning, you woke up with your back stiff and your neck cricked.

Your day starts like everyone else. From what you notice, they all have jobs delegated among each other.

Not long after you woke up, Beth, you remember her name, brings you your portion of a stale oatmeal for breakfast.

As you sit on the steps of the prison, eating your breakfast and enjoying the morning sunlight, you watch Rick and Charles unload all the weapons from the RV and count the ammunitions. The other men, Glenn, Herschel, and even little Carl hover around looking at the new addition of weapons. New toys, you think to yourself.

You still remember that day, when the two soldiers rushed into your army base medical lab. It was a frenzy when they hurried you out of the base, gun shots going off everywhere and people screaming. Charles was expecting a possible breach, and his paranoia had paid off. Jamie and Charles had been preparing for weeks. They had a getaway car organized with military rations, weapons, ammunitions, and even spare gas containers. However, you didn't get too far as the military jeep was terrible on gas.

It was only later, during one of your scavenging for supplies, you found the RV with previous owners dead inside. And during the last five months of your travel, your ammunitions was severely depleted as well.

You get up from the prison's steps and stretch, joints cracking.

You decide, like the men, your first task of the day should be to unload all your supplies from the RV. You only had two boxes moved when you were joined by Maggie and Carol, who offered their assistance.

As you unload the boxes, you talk and laugh with the ladies. You learn that Beth and Maggie are sisters and Herschel is their father. Carl is Rick's oldest son. You also briefly learn about the farm and how the group got together. It was an opportunity to get to know the ladies and connect with the people you'll be spending the next few months.

You choose a random cell to turn into a makeshift infirmary, going through all the boxes and moving all your medical supplies into the cell. As you watch your little sickbay come together, you are quite astonished by all the medications you had collected the last few months.

The last box you carried was filled with feminine products. There were laughter and excitedness as you decide to share the items equally divided between all the ladies.

Once you are settled with your makeshift infirmary, you focus your attention on Lori. It was Carol's idea to put the bedsheets as temporary curtain for your 'infirmary,' to create a privacy. Once Lori sits on the bunkbed, you pull the bedsheets for privacy.

You prod around her large pregnant belly for any pain, looking at her previous c-section scar.

She sits there in silence, only answering when asked. She looks miserable and frightened. She slowly looks up at you, and there is a moment of hesitation before she finally whispers. "I think my baby might be gone. I haven't felt it kick in days." Her hands are shaking.

You stare up at her stunned, "how long?"

"At least 5 days." She whimpers. "What if it tried to eat me from the inside out?"

You thought a lot about this virus during your research, but you did not think about this possibility. It wasn't completely out of the realm, but if the baby was a still born, would it try to feed with no teeth or …would she simply carry an undead infant. This was something you haven't thought about at all.

You hold her hand as you steel your nerves, your other hand digging into your medical bag for your stethoscope.

You press the cold end of the stethoscope to her large belly. The room is quiet as you both wait.

And…You hear it. The gentle tap..tap..tap of a second heartbeat. You let out a sigh.

"Your baby is alive Lori. Its little heart is so strong." Your words open the gate for her tears. She keeps whispering 'thank you' and 'thank god' as you pull her in a hug, holding her tight.

The rest of your checkup went well.

Overall, beside lacking proper nutrition, Lori was doing surprisingly well.

Your next patient is Herschel. You put on your gloves as you look at the Jaggared cut of his decapitated leg. You can't help but wonder, how he is moving around with a wound like that. The cut is starting to get infected from lack of cleanliness. The knee is wrapped in a dirty scarf, and you make a face as you pull it off.

To distract him, you ask him about his medical career before his retirement. While he talks, you thoroughly clean and disinfect the area, then bandage it with your medical gauze. He smiles at you as you give him the antibiotic for the infection.

The sun is low in the sky when you step out of the prison. You inhale the crisp cool air. Sunset is just around the corner. You look around, scanning the gated area and see Jamie on the guard tower, AR-15 hanging to his shoulder.

This morning both Jamie and Charles were placed on the group's rotation for the guard duty. Your currant focus is Lori and Herschel, but you wonder when you'll get that duty assign to you as well.

Across the field you notice Rick and Charles talking. They are strolling around the perimeter, prodding the fences. You could tell just by looking at them, they are discussing improvements they can make to the barrier.

You can tell these two men, Rick and Charles, are cut from the same cloth, and they are going to be able to work well together.

It's Rick that spots you first. You wave with smile on your face, watching them as they leisurely make their way to you.

"Good afternoon, Dr. hart." Charles speaks first. Though you've been together for over a year, Charles never uses your first name, no matter how much you insist.

"Good afternoon, guys! Charles, I was wondering if I could borrow Rick for a moment?" You ask. Rick looks at you, both his eyebrows raised. Simply nodding, Charles walks away. You and Rick watch him for a moment as he heads toward the guard tower to join Jamie.

"How are you feeling today, doctor?" Rick break the stillness.

"Oh, let's not do that Rick. Please call me Alice." You chuckle. He has a smile on his face, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

"How are you feeling today, Alice?" He tries again.

"I'm doing well actually. It's nice to have a bed of my own and not hear Charles snoring all night." You joke lightheartedly, "Don't tell him I said that!"

"Ha, I wouldn't dare." There's a buoyancy to his voice.

"Good because, I'll deny it." You tell him with a grin. There's a moment of silence, and you take that chance to look at him. The smile on his face makes him look youthful.

"How about you? How are you feeling?" You inquire.

"I'm ok. Better now that you guys are here." He motions to his surroundings, "everything else, we'll deal with one problem at a time."

"Good… that's good. I'm glad we're here as well." He nods in agreement.

You both stand there basking in the beautiful day. The sun is warm, but the air is fresh, filled with cool breeze. The combination feels good on your skin. Since the outbreak, there was a resounding quietness, that was never here before. No car, no plane, no light pollution. The starts were bright at night and the planet was healing.

"You needed something from me?" Rick breaks you out of your thought.

"Oh, yes. Please come sit." You reply leading him toward the steps of the prison.

Once you're both settled, you start, "this is about Lori." Immediately, he has a knee-jerking reaction, his body taut.

"Is it the baby? Is she ok?" He's wide-eyed. You instantly feel terrible for how you breached the topic.

"Oh, yes, yes! Oh my god, I'm so sorry! it's nothing like that. The baby is doing fine." He lets out a sigh, his hands fisting.

"Sorry to worry you! I just… I think we may have an issue." You pause, there is no way to say this, so you decide to just rip the band-Aid. "I notice a Lori had a C-section scar."

"Yes, Carl was born with C-section." He looks at you quizzically.

"For most women, if they had C-section in the past, the odds are they will need it again." In fact, there's a 90% chance they will need it again. If Lori is one of these women, if that's the situation here, you are completely ill-prepared.

"We need to have the right tools, Rick. I can't cut her open with a rusty knife." His hands flex again. The laugh line you saw on his face a few minutes ago is completely swap by anxiety and concern.

"Where do we even go for something like that?" His voice is muted, like he is talking to himself.

"Actually, we might not need to go anywhere. Most prisons have an infirmary, and based on the size of this prison, I say, there's probably one here." You share your thoughts

It seems to give Rick hope because he looks up, and you could tell he has an idea. "We have two former prisoners that joined the group. They might know the location."

"Yes, that could work. Even if they don't know where, they might at least know which side of the building it's located." Rick is intently listening, "my guess is, since these are sharp tools, they will most likely be kept somewhere secured, but close enough to the infirmary." He get up from the steps with a nod and immediately seems a lot less anxious.

"Yes, we can't just go in there, we need a plan. Let's discuss it with the group tonight." He agrees. You also get up mirroring his actions.

"Sounds good." You reply with a nod. Before he turns to walk away, he places his hand on your shoulder, gripping it gently, the warmth was reassuring.

You take a step as if to follow him. "Er…Hey Rick, before you go…Have you seen Daryl?"

"Yeah," he says, eyes mischievous, like he wants to tease you. "he's at the east side guard tower." His finger points to far side of the buildings.

You stood in front of the east side guard tower. Daryl has never been one for talks, especially anything to do with his emotions. So, on your walk towards the tower, you decided to be the first to reach out. But here you are, legs deciding not to move. The tips of your fingers are tingling. It feels like you are choking, your heart stuck in your throat. There is this terror almost like you are about to jump off a cliff.

Deep down you knew why though…the fear came from the knowledge, after all this time, you were right back where you were… you are 17 again. The power his presence had on you. The grief you went through, the years it took you to gain yourself again.

But with the echo of that gut-wrenching pain… there was also reverberation of how he made you feel… God, he made you feel so alive!

You take a big breath and open the door to the tower. With each step of the climb, you press your feet harder, as if to ground yourself. Your heart is beating like a mockingbird.

It is only when you reached the top, you see him. He is leaning on the railings; his back is facing you, crossbow by his feet. He seems lost in deep thoughts. In fact, so far gone, he hasn't even heard you.

Hence, you take this moment to just watch him, and the wings printed on his back.

The site of him…

This particular site…

It brings back memories. Memories you've long set free. Memories of both of you standing in the corner of your bedroom where the golden birdcage hanged from the ceiling. Between his fingers he held a peanut, feeding the bird through the bars.

"You can't live yar life for other people. You gotta do what's right by you. even if it hurts some people ya love." He said, his eyes gliding over your face, as if he was trying to commit it to a memory.

"And are you going to take your own advice?" You smiled sadly.

"Me and you ain't the same. Ye're like this bird," he pointed at Scarlet, your little red pet bird in the golden enclosure. "With wings to take on the world. Only to be trapped in a cage." He looked down woefully, fingers fiddling with the peanut.

"I'm nobody… I ain't never had no wings."

You want to reach out and touch those wings on his back now. While it's just a vest, you feel this immense happiness for the site of it, and for metaphorical freedom it represented for him. Hmph, he got his wings after all, you think.

"You've been avoiding me," you speak, bringing him back to reality. He looks back at you surprised by your presence. You walk forward and stand facing him, leaning your side on the same railing

"Avoidin you? The hell would I do that?" His voice is rough.

"I don't know- maybe you don't want me cramping your style." You say with a coy smile, "Or maybe you just don't remember my radiant personality." You wiggle your eyebrows at him.

"The only thin' radiating around here is all that hot air coming out of your ass." You snicker at his comment.

"Ohh, so you have been checking out my ass. Here I am thinking you barely looked at me since I got here."

"Stop!" he says with aghast look on his face. "Watcha want woman?" You shake your head with a giggle. Somethings haven't changed after all; you think to yourself.

"To talk. To catch up." You shrug your shoulders.

"What's there to catch up."

"I don't know. It's been 15 years. How have you been?"

"Ain't nothing changed for me." He says "The world was shit before, and the world is shit now."

"When you put it like that …" You turn away from him, facing the open field. From this guard tower, you can see all the east side of the prison and beyond it. There is calmness in the air as the sky blood orange and shades of dark blues.

"I heard ya got married." You hum looking up at him, his blue eyes reflects the sunset.

"Hm, you been checking on little o me? Stalking me on Facebook perhaps?" You can not stop the smile that breaks out on your cheeks, it was like your heart had taken control of your motor functions.

"Pfft, please! Someone mentioned in passin." This feels too normal, like time hasn't passed.

"Yet, you still remember! Which only means, you were devastated! Filled in angst - the one that got away." You press the back of your hand to your forehead, throwing your head back in a theatrical despair. You are full on teasing him now.

"And good riddance!" There's a small smile on his face, followed by your chuckle. He's always been good at bantering with you. Quick on his feet.

"Na, I wasn't married. I was engaged before all this…" You look down on the ring on your finger, fiddling with it. Lately you have forgotten that ring exists on your finger. You haven't had the heart to take it off.

Frank started out as your coworker, a fellow doctor. He asked you out for a year before you finally agreed. Soon, you started dating. Things were easy with him. He was kind, supportive and understood your work habit. When he asked you to marry him, you simply agreed. Not long after, you took a job that took you abroad for extended period.

"Where he at now?" Daryl asks, but the look on his face said he already guessed the answer.

"No idea. I was gone 6 months on a 12 months' work trip outside of the US when the outbreak happened. It's a miracle I made it back." There is this tightness in the pit of your stomach, the guilt you feel. You were in Iraq with Jamie and his entire army squadrons when Charles showed up with a Hell-Harrier. When you landed in the US all phone system were down. You haven't heard from Frank in almost 2 years now, besides the few phone calls you had while you were in the Middle East. Did he even know you were back… or did he think you were lost in the desert.

"Doubt he survived this." Your voice is melancholy, "We we're living in New York before the outbreak, and the city was overpopulated." You look at the expensive ring with a large diamond attached to it. You remember your coworker gashing over the size of the rock.

"I wouldn't have survived this either if it wasn't for Jamie and Charles—"

"You would have." Daryl cuts you off, "Would have used that big brain of yers to figure something out."

"Like what? Tell them about the theory of relativity, or maybe entertain them with my chipper personality."

"A woodchipper maybe," You lightly smack him on his arms, chuckling.

"God don't like ugly, Daryl," He puffs.

"Then why he made you!" You smack him again, this time actually laughing.

"Well, ain't you just a Can of chuckle! Dare you to say that to my face!" You challenge him, and he turns with bravado, to tell you right to your face.

You're standing so close. You didn't realize just how close you were until he fully turns. His face is dirty like he spent some time under a car changing oil. You follow his eyes as he searched your face, pausing over your dark eyes, down to your nose and finally your lips. His body comes to a stop with a jerk, as if a realization hitting him. Your heartbeat pulsates in your ears. He 'tsk' before turning away.

The tension is back between you. Whatever just happened, it seems to shut him down again. You could almost feel the distance his body was exuding.

"How about you, are you married?" You try to bring him back to the conversation.

"Now look who's being funny." He mumbles.

Daryl had slammed the figurative door, locking it shut.