Happy birthday to me! I turn… one year older today! Crazy, knowing I legally can't drink yet but I can legally die in war.
Man, it's been a while since I last uploaded a chapter!
Also, watch out for every fifth chapter. I put end credit songs on each one. Just in case you want to give each one a listen.
Another thing. This chapter is still incomplete, so there will be edits done later, but the edits aren't too important. They're just to fulfill a personal satisfaction. So you don't have to go through the trouble of rereading the entire thing.
Sorry for rambling on. But before I allow you to read, I gotta let you guys know that the lyrics that are written right in the intro is part of the song "Fingers Crossed" by Billie Eilish. She wrote it when she was like 11? 12? 13? Idk, but she wrote and sang it when she was really young and it's about The Walking Dead. I thought it would fit nicely for this story.
As always, enjoy.
Arc 4 will contain Chapters 31-40.
Arc 4
-Nine Hours Earlier-
The last of the discarded torches went out. The cacophonic gunfire from earlier had ceased. A few cars and trucks drove off in the distance. The roaming undead growled and screeched as they continued advancing towards the tall white structure that had housed a family of 23 for the past 114 days.
"In the end, when they're all gone,"
A white-haired boy in an orange jacket sporting specks of blood panted raggedly while sprinting alongside the purple-sweatered girl next to him. Their hands were tightly clasped onto each other as they hurriedly made their way across the snow-covered field. Audible crunching emitted from beneath their feet with each bound the other took.
"When the world is silent and the days are long,"
The earth trembled. Then, a large white flash brightened the building before it crumbled down. A large fireball roared out of the building, billowing higher and higher before finally fading into black smoke.
"Just you and I, we'll be alive,"
Ronnie Anne screamed as she stumbled down into the snow, though Lincoln was unable to hear anything— a result of the deafening explosion. The shockwave tossed the bullets and cartridges and magazines and knives and guns into the air.
"We made it on our own…"
Lincoln lifted himself up, dusting off the snow on his wet jeans before picking pulling on Ronnie Anne's hand, lifting her up. She licked her bleeding lips and puffed as she continued to run ahead.
"'Cause everybody makes it 'till they don't,
And everybody wants to think they won't,"
Both Lincoln and Ronnie Anne ran through the floating embers and coughed as smoke clouded their vision. Their backs felt hot and sweat dripped from their forehead.
"'Cause everybody makes it 'till they don't,
And everybody seems to think they won't, they won't, they won't, they won't,"
They stepped on the toppled steel fence that surrounded the North Fence. Lincoln held Ronnie Anne's hand tightly as they slowed down, taking wary and slippery steps. Then, they hopped into the snow and continued running ahead where the smoke began to clear up, revealing a dark night sky with the moon as the only source of light.
"Baby, I'm still alive but my heart is beating slow,"
A walking corpse turned around, staring at the survivors with glowing eyes. Ronnie Anne swung her crossbow across the roamer's jaw, knocking it to the ground.
"Baby, tell me I gotta know,"
The survivors raced across Lafayette Square. Lincoln slowed down as he saw George's corpse, ignoring the roamers passing by it.
"Are you okay? You seem too far gone,"
Lincoln screamed as he took out his Bowie knife, jamming it through a roamer's skull, and quickly decapitating it. The skull slid out of his knife with a quick flick of the wrist.
"Infected, standing there all alone,"
Ronnie Anne grabbed Lincoln's arm and pulled him away from the familiar corpse. Lincoln looked around and saw a group of roamers chasing after them. He gasped and sprinted ahead.
"'Cause everybody makes it 'till they don't,
And everybody wants to think they won't,"
The two survivors ran across downtown with roamers in pursuit of them. Lincoln took out his M1911 pistol, holding it with his right hand. He kicked empty plastic bottles and cans around, stepping over newspapers and wrappers.
"And everybody makes it 'till they don't
And everybody seems to think they won't, they won't, they won't, they won't,"
Lincoln fired his pistol at a roamer ahead of him. Ronnie Anne fired her crossbow at a roamer ahead of her. Both roamers dropped down at the same time, as both survivors ran past their falling corpses, delving deeper into downtown.
"The best of me, the best of me is you,"
Ronnie Anne tackled a roamer against a car before Lincoln fired a bullet into its skull. She then swung her crossbow at the windows before looking back, finding the roamers mere feet away. She shook her head and hopped over the car, running ahead into the dark Rock Creek Park with Lincoln.
"The best of me, the best of me was you,"
The two survivors ran as fast as they could by the running creek, leaping over mounds of snow, twigs, and broken branches. The roamers were in quick pursuit, their glowing golden eyes moving and stumbling through the park. Then, a flash lit up the park for a split second, quickly followed by three more.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,"
Lincoln slid down a snowy hill before running ahead into the suburban streets of Hawthorne, with Ronnie Anne right behind him. A few roamers made it out of the park, though Ronnie Anne quickly turned around and fired a bolt at one of them before swinging her crossbow at the other two roamers.
"Ladum, badum, mmmm,"
Ronnie Anne panted heavily as she followed Lincoln, who was red in the face as his cold breaths continued to flow out of his crusty lips. In spite of their exhaustion, both survivors continued to run ahead, passing by a sign welcoming them to Maryland.
Chapter 31: Barbarian
I - Just You and I
Cold vapors of water dissipated into the frigid atmosphere as Lincoln sat on the curb of the sidewalk, trembling softly. He sniffled while cupping his hands around his mouth and nose, trying to take deep breaths.
Ronnie Anne grunted as she swung her crossbow at the window, shattering it. The car alarm then blared across the dark suburban street. Lincoln turned around and stood up, rubbing his hands together as he squinted at the sight of bright tail lights flashing on and off.
"What the heck, Ron?" quivered Lincoln.
"It's fine," said Ronnie Anne, aiming her crossbow inside the car.
"Turn that off!"
"I'm trying to!"
"You're alerting every roamer for miles! Turn that off!"
"I know! Shut up!"
Ronnie Anne reached inside the car and pulled out a key fob, peering straight at it. She then found the panic button and pressed it, returning the street to a state of tranquility again.
"Fuck, Lincoln… you cry about everything."
"Ronnie— the roamers know where we are."
"Get in."
Ronnie Anne unlocked the doors and opened the driver's side, dragging a rotten corpse out onto the pavement. She removed the bolt from its head and placed it on the crossbow before she sat herself on the driver's seat. Lincoln sat himself on the passenger seats, putting on his seatbelt.
Ronnie Anne set the keys into the ignition switch. The car rumbled and made a cranking noise. She then turned the keys again as the engine continued to crank. Lincoln turned around and looked through the rear windows, finding the shadow of running roamers approaching from the distance.
"They're coming," whispered Lincoln.
"Hang on…"
Ronnie Anne turned the keys once more until the car engine smoothed out and hummed softly, the headlights beaming across the street ahead of the car. She then moved the car seat closer to the steering wheel and pressed her foot against the gas pedal.
"When'd you learn to drive?" asked Lincoln.
"I didn't. Just wingin' it right now. Shouldn't be too hard, right?"
"Well… I don't know."
Ronnie Anne kept driving forward, the wheels plowing through the snow.
"Relax, Lame-O. There aren't any rules of the road to follow. I just… have to… keep driving."
"You're not going to fall asleep there, are you?"
Ronnie Anne yawned and rubbed her eyes. Lincoln stretched out his arms over to the glove department, taking a deep sigh.
"No," she sighed. "I can pull all-nighters. This isn't that hard."
Ronnie Anne turned towards Lincoln, whose eyes were staring out his window. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked down at the glove department. It wasn't the one he was used to seeing in Vanzilla.
Ronnie Anne faced the road again, feeling a sense of unwarranted guilt washing over her.
"Are we… are we going to talk about what happened back there?"
"Losing our home…?" sniffled Lincoln.
"Yeah. And… and what happened to everyone else…?"
"Everyone else made it out… right?"
Ronnie Anne's eyes bubbled before she quickly wiped them away. Lincoln sniffled as the cold air continued to rush inside the car through the broken window.
"We just gotta find them. That's all."
"I… uh… I think we need to find somewhere to sleep first," said Ronnie Anne, her voice slowly breaking.
Lincoln nodded. Ronnie Anne cleared her throat and looked out the broken window.
"Stupid cold. Getting my throat clogged up."
The engine continued to hum softly as the car continued driving through the suburban neighborhoods. The moon hovered high in the air as the lone car found itself moving around cars and traffic cones, for minutes and minutes.
Ronnie Anne felt her exhaustion and drowsiness weighing her eyelids down. Her hands turned the steering wheel to the left, before she quickly set it back to the middle, moving the car forward. She looked at the red numbers in the stereo, which displayed the time 10:50— the amount of time remaining in minutes and seconds when Bobby was knocked down by Beatrice back in the White House. She had no idea if the group made it out.
Lincoln peered into the streets, his eyes widening as he saw what the car was approaching.
"Roamer!"
Ronnie Anne's eyes widened at the last second.
"Oh, shi—!"
She turned the wheel to the left, though it wasn't quick enough to avoid hitting the roamer in the middle of the street. The roamer rolled up to the windshield, cracking it as Ronnie Anne swerved to the right. The car turned, causing the roamer to slip out of the car instead of the street. Then, the car moved quickly towards the parked cars in the street, prompting Ronnie Anne to swerve to the left. However, the wheels slipped on the nearly frictionless ice on the road and sent the car crashing into the parked cars before getting stuck on the side of the snowy curb. The alarms of the parked cars blared across the suburbs.
"Pendejo!"
"Oh… crap…"
"Are you alright?"
Lincoln grabbed his seatbelt and lifted it.
"This thing is a lifesaver," he sighed.
"We were going at like a mile per hour."
Ronnie Anne pressed the gas pedal, though the car refused to budge. The wheels spewed snow out behind it, but was unable to propel itself forward.
"Damn," she huffed. "We're really stuck."
Lincoln unbuckled his seatbelt. He then opened the door, walked out of the car and towards the back, where there was a large dent and broken tail lights. He placed his hands on the car and felt the sheer coldness numbing his fingers. He then began to shove the car before he heard a door open from the front of the car. To his surprise, he found Ronnie Anne grabbing her crossbow before closing the door.
"What are you doing?" he exclaimed. "Drive this thing outta here!"
"No. We're leaving."
"Why? We can push this thing outta here?"
"We gotta go before they get here. You're not gonna push it out in time. Let's just go!"
Lincoln removed his hands from the car.
"The Ronnie Anne I knew isn't a quitter! So, what's going on?"
"You're not strong enough to push it out. And I'm too damn tired."
"You think I can't push this?"
"I know you can't! So stop wasting time and let's go! God, you irritate me sometimes!"
Ronnie Anne turned around and walked forward, taking heavy steps ahead in the road as the car alarms continued to blare. Lincoln moved forward as he patted his pants, checking to see if his sidearm and knife were there.
"Hold up!" exclaimed Lincoln.
The branches of the naked trees surrounding an empty road outside the suburbs swayed softly. Ronnie Anne felt her lips turning numb as she wrapped her arms around herself. Lincoln kept rubbing his arms, trying to warm his eyelids as he kept his eyes partially shut.
"O-O-Over t-there," groaned Ronnie Anne.
Ronnie Anne grabbed Lincoln's left wrist and dragged him to the side of the road. Lincoln opened his eyes, peering into the darkness before realizing a car with an open door stood in front of him. Ronnie Anne grabbed the keys that were stuck on the lock in the left front door and twisted it, unlocking the door. She then stepped inside the driver's seat and unlocked the other doors before Lincoln sat himself on the back seats.
"What are you doing back there?" asked Ronnie Anne.
"Don't mind if I… get some sleep," yawned Lincoln.
"Don't get some shuteye yet. Let me turn on the heater first."
She placed the keys into the ignition switch and turned on the car, allowing the car engine to grumble before it faded into silence. She looked at the fuel gauge as she turned on the heater, noticing the needle barely reaching the E.
"Dang…" she groaned. "Might make yourself comfortable, Lincoln. We're not going anywhere. We're bunking in here for tonight."
"Okay…" whispered Lincoln as he lay down on the back seats.
Ronnie Anne looked back at the seats, trembling as the cold front seats barely received any heat from the heaters. She then rolled her eyes and placed her crossbow on her seat before walking out of the car. She opened the back doors and entered before closing them, locking all the doors in the car.
"What are you…?"
"The front seat's not comfortable," said Ronnie Anne. "And it's cold. Scooch over."
"There really isn't any space."
Ronnie Anne sighed. She raised her left over Lincoln's legs before raising her right leg onto the empty slit on the edge of the seats. A strong yet noticeable blush grew in Ronnie Anne's face, as well as Lincoln's, as they both looked at each other. Ronnie Anne looked down at Lincoln.
"You tell anyone about this… and I'll kill you," she said.
Lincoln nodded as he looked up at Ronnie Anne, who was sitting above his lap. She then reluctantly lay herself on top of Lincoln's chest, setting her head on the soft orange coat he had on.
"Good thing I'm taller than you," chuckled Lincoln nervously. "Not that I prefer you on my chest rather than next to my face… not that that's a bad thing. Your face is a good thing. I mean—"
"Lincoln."
"Huh?"
"Shut up."
Lincoln felt his chest getting hotter and damper. Ronnie Anne felt her head being slowly raised up and down as Lincoln inhaled and exhaled deeply. Her ears heard his heart thumping against her head rapidly. Her own heart raced as she snuggled herself into a more comfortable position— her knees touching his knees, her hips touching his hips, her chest touching his ribs, the left side of her face lying on his collarbone.
Lincoln gulped as the heater became the only source of noise in the long and awkward silence that was present throughout the entire night. But it wasn't uncomfortable.
-Ten Hours Later-
A roamer lingered around the car windows, peering inside. It was unsure whether the snuggled bodies were dead or alive or in between. Its short attention span then pulled it away from the car as it roamed into the naked woods away from the road.
Lincoln opened his eyes as he sniffed in a certain smell. He smiled softly as he tilted his head towards Ronnie Anne, who was wiggling herself more tightly around him as she moaned softly. She then yawned as she slowly opened her eyes.
"Is it morning already?" she sighed.
"Seems like it," yawned Lincoln.
Suddenly, their eyes popped open. Ronnie Anne blushed softly as she looked up at Lincoln, who raised his head. She was unable to let out a word as she felt her breath stop. She then placed her arms on top of Lincoln's chest as she raised herself upwards.
"Don't," whispered Lincoln.
Ronnie Anne moved back, rubbing her butt against Lincoln's lap, feeling it dig deeper into her jeans under her zipper. She gasped and quickly shoved herself away from the seats, yelling as she fell down onto the car floor.
"What the—? Was that a...?"
"Yes! I'm so sorry! Oh my goodness!" panted Lincoln. "I'm so sorry, Ron!"
"Dude! Oh my god!"
"I'm sorry! I-I-I don't know why that happens! It happens a lot! Especially when I wake up! It's not 'cause we were—"
"—don't finish that sentence!"
"—sleeping together."
"Ugh," groaned Ronnie Anne. "We were sleeping next to each other. Not together."
"Technically, you were on the top and I was at the bottom."
"Dude, that sounds gross."
"Sorry. Also… sorry about the… you know. I can't control it."
"I know, dude. Let's just… let's just forget about it."
The back door opened as Lincoln and Ronnie Anne exited out of it. Ronnie Anne fixed her hair and tied it into a low ponytail, allowing her hair to drop to her back. Lincoln rubbed his stomach and shivered.
"I'm starving," he said.
"Thirsty too, huh?"
"Yeah. I could go for some Poland Spring right now. Wait— you did mean water, right?"
Ronnie Anne rolled her eyes and walked ahead in the road, as Lincoln quickly ran ahead, trying to catch up. He groaned as he felt a cramp paralyze his muscles. He fell on his knees and gasped out in pain.
"What happened?" gasped Ronnie Anne.
"Cramp! Ah! My legs!"
"Lincoln… now's not the time to be quoting that fish from SpongeBob!"
"No, my legs really hurt!"
Ronnie Anne ran up to Lincoln and crouched, placing her cold hands over Lincoln's leg. She then pinched inwards and rubbed his legs, pushing against the tense muscles. Lincoln then sighed in relief as the cramp was fading away.
"Ah. That feels good," sighed Lincoln.
"Keep doing that. I'm going to nab this roamer."
Ronnie Anne stood up and grabbed her crossbow, walking towards the roamer that passed by the car earlier. She aimed her right eye into the scope of the crossbow and fired the bolt, hitting the roamer in the eye. She then walked towards the corpse and bent down, grabbing the bolt from the roamer's eye socket before shaking off the blood from the tip. Her hair spun as she turned around, now focusing her attention on Lincoln— who was stuck in a trancelike gaze towards her.
"Hey, you alright?"
"Y-Yeah," stammered Lincoln. "Just… wow. You look… err… badass."
"Thanks. Now get up. Can you walk?"
Lincoln grabbed Ronnie Anne's hand and stood up, limping softly. He nodded and sighed with discomfort.
"Feels very sore. I don't think I ever ran that much in my life."
"Remember that day? When we had to escape from the herd back in Maine?"
"Yeah. I remember it every day."
"If only we can go back to those times," said Ronnie Anne, her boots leaving prints in the snow.
"Really? We had it worse back then."
"Worse? Worse how?"
"Are you really asking me that?" whispered Lincoln.
"Yes, I'm seriously asking you that! We… we are never going to see our family again!"
"What?"
"I know you saw the same thing as I did! When the cannibals had us in that room, we looked at the recordings! The cannibals… they got my brother… and your sisters…"
Lincoln shook his head.
"No— they can't be dead," he muttered. "If we know our group, we know that they always get out of any bad situation."
"And then what? They're gonna know where we are all of a sudden? We're gonna know where they are?"
"No, but we're all going to the same place. Royal Woods."
"Royal Woods is like a thousand miles from here! We don't have a car! It's winter! Walking is gonna be hell! You don't even know how to hunt! We're going to freakin' die out here! Face it— we're never seeing them again!"
"Hey! Take a deep breath! Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down! My brother is dead! Lori is dead!"
"I'm sorry but— I don't believe that."
Ronnie Anne sniffled as she turned to her left, looking through the naked woods, finding what appears to be a yellow house in the distance behind the jumble of branches.
"Face the facts, Lincoln. Did you see anyone leave the White House? Do you seriously think our group escaped the cannibals? Do you think they'll ever stop going after them?"
"Them being separated from us is different than them being dead."
"How so? Because I'd really like to know how you can remain blind and optimistic."
Lincoln stepped over a large branch and moved a small one away from his face. He crouched down, holding out his Bowie knife with his left hand.
"If they're dead, then there is no chance of seeing them ever again. But when they're separated from us… there's always hope. It's not just blind optimism. It's hope."
"Will your hope make you survive this… one thousand-mile journey?"
"It has to… I believe it has to. 'Cause the other alternative is to count down the days 'til we die."
Lincoln stepped into the backyard of the yellow house, finding a small playground consisting of a yellow and red slide, three swings, and a wheel attached to the branch of a tree.
"Hope is dangerous," said Ronnie Anne. "Let's say… Lori is dead."
"Don't."
"Let me finish!"
Lincoln scoffed and continued limping towards the back door.
"You better be listening."
Lincoln twisted the door knob, finding the back door locked. Ronnie Anne continued talking.
"Let's say Lori is dead, like at this very moment. Now, if we accept that, we can move on. Maybe one day, we find out that she really is dead. Maybe we see her body or something."
"That's not something I want to picture," said Lincoln, walking around the house.
"Listen. We find her dead body, and what do we do? We bury it and we mourn. But that's it. We move on. We don't let it destroy us. Now… let's say we don't accept that Lori is dead, like now. You hope and you hope that she's out there… breathing. Existing. But when we stumble upon her dead body…"
"If we do. If."
"Whatever. If we find her dead body… that's going to destroy you. You're gonna sit there wondering why you wasted all that time looking for someone who's gone. Then, you'll lose your will to live. Carol had hopes for her baby. High hopes. And that destroyed her."
"We saved her," said Lincoln, walking to the front door.
"Because someone was around to save her. Certainly not that creepy kid, Weber. But what happens when I'm not around for you?"
Lincoln twisted the door knob, causing the door to open. He turned around, looking at Ronnie Anne in the eyes.
"Don't call him creepy," he said before walking inside the house.
"Did you not get my point?" scoffed Ronnie Anne as she entered the house, closing the door behind her.
"I get it. I just had no idea you were such a downer."
"Okay, fine! Go follow that false hope of yours! Not like I even care."
Sunlight peered through the foggy windows, revealing a wooden floor. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne looked around the blue living room, seeing an empty couch pointed at a TV. Lincoln tapped the walls with his knife at the same rhythmic pace as his slow footsteps. Ronnie Anne looked around the hallway with her crossbow, as Lincoln walked up the wooden stairs.
Lincoln opened the first door at the edge of the hallway. The white and blue marble floor were filled with cobwebs, though it remained spotless. He placed his knife next to a measuring tape on top of a sink and looked into the mirror, seeing his own sorrowful blue eyes looking back at him. There were dry specks of blood on his neck, though nothing too noticeable. He then crept out of the bathroom, holding his knife out as he walked towards the next door.
Ronnie Anne looked at the kitchen to her right, though she quickly glanced away as she placed her hands on the doorknob of the door opposite to the kitchen. She twisted it and opened it, revealing a wide room with a king-size bed, which was made— though dusty. Above the bed was the flag of Greece, with empty picture frames hanging next to it. She approached the drawer next to the bed and picked up an empty pill bottle, taking a careful look at the label. Citalopram. 40mg per tablet. Feeling a sense of unease, she placed it back on top of the drawer and began to walk out of the room.
Lincoln entered another room, stepping on a carpeted floor as he looked at the twin beds in front of him— one with an A on top of it. They were made, though spider webs clung below both beds. He turned around and found a PlayStation 4 console sitting next to a TV on top of a drawer. On top of the console sat the disc for Uncharted 4, along with two PS4 controllers— one labeled A and another labeled T. He closed his eyes and walked out of the room, finding Ronnie Anne walking up the stairs.
"Seems like no one's home," said Ronnie Anne.
"We still got one more room to check before the kitchen."
The door to a pink room opened. Lincoln held out the door with one hand while holding his Bowie knife with the other, walking inside the room first. Ronnie Anne followed behind him before lowering her crossbow. She looked around and shook her head.
"Damn," she whispered. "Just abandoned."
Lincoln nodded and turned around, lifting his hands out of the baby crib that stood in the corner of the room.
"If there isn't anything in here, I'm eating you," said Ronnie Anne, walking down the stairs.
Lincoln lowered an eyebrow. Ronnie Anne gulped.
"Not like that! I meant like… a cannibal. Or a roamer. Just… just— whatever."
Ronnie Anne entered the kitchen and began to open the cabinets, finding stacked dishes and cups, cans of spices, and bags of sugar and salt. Lincoln looked at the stainless marble tiles and the webbed sink, inspecting every spot. His eyes then shifted towards the refrigerator, his hands moving towards a particular magnet— a chicken-shaped magnet.
"They took all their shit with them," said Ronnie Anne. "I bet twenty bucks they went to Washington. And I wonder who got 'em first? Cannibals or the fake ass Service people? Do you have a coin with you?"
"They had a baby."
"Yeah. Just… just try not to think about it so much."
"Alright. There's no food? No water?"
"It's all gone. You know what that means."
Lincoln groaned.
"Can we at least relax our legs for a little?" he sighed.
"The more we waste time, the more—"
Lincoln groaned even louder.
"Fine! Fine. Five minutes. Then, we're going hunting."
Lincoln nodded as he sat himself down on the couch of the living room. Dust particles flew into the air, drifting around before succumbing to the gravity. He looked out the window before realizing how open the curtains were. He sighed and remained seated, looking at the peaceful snow on the grass. He then saw a couple branches moving around the woods. Confused, Lincoln peered closer into the woods, finding a shadowy figure moving around the woods.
Then, the branches stopped moving. The figure was gone.
Lincoln kept on staring at the windows while rubbing his legs, waiting for another movement within the woods, hoping to see an animal— perhaps a deer. But nothing happened. He was staring at stiff branches, hanging above the peaceful snow.
He sighed in disappointment and turned away from the windows, unable to put out his simmering thoughts.