NICOLETTE

After eight months, the group was finally able to spend more than two nights in the same place. T-Dog had been searching for supplies with Carol when they stumbled upon a little village in the middle of nowhere in Georgia. They had found an abandoned school where they could finally rest.

Rick had kept them safe throughout the winter, and Nicki was well aware of that, but he had made them move around constantly. Whenever he wasn't sure about the safety of a location, he preferred to find a better one. But now everyone was feeling fatigued, and Lori, even though she kept up the pace as if she weren't about to deliver a baby in a few weeks, was starting to tire more easily. So, when Rick agreed to stay at the school for a few days,

"The school wasn't big; it was a kindergarten with only three classrooms. They had cleared it of the walkers that had been inside, and Sarah had set up her traps at the doors to alert them if any walkers managed to get in. This way, they could escape through the window of the classroom they were using for sleep.

"Glenn," Rick said, making the guy look towards him. Take the map; I wanna see where the closer creek is. Tomorrow, we might need more water." Glenn got up from where he was sitting next to Maggie and then followed Rick and Daryl to the other side of the classroom.

"You think we can stay here?" Nicki heard Carol ask Hershel. The man's beard and hair had grown, but Nicolette had to admit that the new look suited the old man. It made him look kind of badass.

"I don't know," he answered with the usual gentle tone. "The herd is far from here, but it's going to catch up sooner than later. " Then his eyes went to Lori, who was talking with Sarah.

The day before they found the school, they had stumbled across a herd of walkers. They were in the cars, so they were all safe. But it was a pretty big herd—too big for that place to keep them safe.

Nicki chuckled with annoyance. She was too used to not feeling safe, not even inside four walls. It felt like a mockery. Nicolette had never believed in God, but if there was one, he surely had a strange sense of humor.

"Dad," she turned when she heard Shorty's voice, "I've seen a store just at the end of the road. I thought I could go take a look." Rick looked down at his son. He didn't like when Carl wanted to go alone on runs, but it had happened, and Nicki was sure that under the worry, he was proud of him. She had to be honest about that. Shorty was difficult to scare, and he had learned pretty quickly how to handle himself out there.

"Rick..." Lori spoke, clearly not agreeing with Carl going.

"I can do it!" Carl exclaimed, glaring at his mother before turning back to his father. Nicki could see the uncertainty in Rick's eyes, but she knew that not letting Carl go would only make him more angry at Lori. So she got up from the desk she was sitting on, grabbed her quiver, and slung it across her shoulders.

"I can go with him," she said, taking the bow in her hand. Her suggestion didn't seem to sit well with Shorty, but she ignored him, waiting for Rick's response.

The sheriff had come to trust Nicki's skills with the bow; she had proven herself more than once. But what held everyone back was her age. They often said she was too young, but in those months, she had done whatever it took to survive, just like the rest of them. They couldn't deny that. So, even though she noticed the glance shared between Daryl and Sarah, as well as Rick's uncertainty, she was confident he would eventually let them go.

"Alright," he said finally, nodding. "Come back in two hours, no more than that."

"Alright," she answered, then looked at Carl. "Come on, Shorty."

The boy rolled his eyes before heading toward the door, followed by Nicki. But just as she was about to walk out, Sarah stopped her, a gun in her hand.

"Bring this, too," her sister said.

"I'm okay with the arrows," Nicki replied, but Sarah insisted.

"And I'm okay with this only if you bring a gun, too." Sarah was terrified by the idea of Nicki running out of arrows. It wasn't easy to find them; even Daryl had shown her how to make more. Her sister always wanted Nicki to be prepared with more than one weapon.

"Alright," Nicki agreed, at last, taking the gun and tucking it into the back of her jeans. Then she followed Carl out.

"You didn't have to come with me," Carl grumbled, marching ahead. His sheriff hat perched confidently on his head, a backpack slung over his shoulders, and the gun firmly in hand.

"It's true," she replied coolly, nodding. "But then you'd just sulk all day."

She caught his glare at her, "What's into you?"

Nicki knew that Carl had taken in the whole Lori and Shane situation very badly. He adored his father, and he loved Shane, too. He surely felt like his mother had betraid their family in more than one sense. But she also knew that Lori regretted what she had done.

"Do you know the meaning of cohabitation?" she asked, and she saw him look briefly in her direction.

"Yeah," he shot back, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "It means I'm stuck with you."

That made her chuckle, "And I'm with you," Nicki said with a shrug of her shoulders, "And you are a pain when you are angry."

"So you're doing this for yourself?" he countered, his skepticism evident. He scoffed when she didn't respond.

They walked in silence for several meters before Carl stopped in his tracks. Something had caught his attention. Nicki frowned as she looked in the same direction.

It was a house.

The girl wondered what had interested him so much. They had seen many houses like that one, and they had even found shelter in some of them. But she had no time to ask because he had already started making his way toward the house.

Nicolette took a breath. "I thought we were going to the store," she said, hands on her hips.

"You go," he replied. "You don't have to come with me."

Nicki rolled her eyes and caught up with him, taking him by the shoulder to turn him around. "I promised your father I would accompany you. And you should be thankful," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know that..." he admitted, looking down. She observed him, his gaze fixed on the ground as he kicked the dirt softly with his foot.

"I don't want your 'thank you,'" Nicki said, making him look up. "But tell me what you want to do." He frowned, looking up at her.

"Why did you want to come with me?" Nicki cocked her head to the side.

"Why did you want to go to that house?" she asked, moving toward it. She chuckled when she heard him groan.

"It was not a stupid question," he muttered to himself as he caught up with her.

"So?" she pressed again.

"I hate when you don't answer," he replied, making her chuckle again. But he continued, "My house was very similar." Nicki looked between him and the house.

"Is that so?" she asked, but he shrugged.

"We don't have to go," he said dismissively. "Let's just go to the store."

"Don't be embarrassed," she called out when he was about to walk back to where they had come from. Carl shot her a small frown. "Come on," she said, gesturing toward the house with her head. "Let's take a look."

The girl took one of her arrows, placing it against her bow as Carl gripped his gun. Nicki pressed one ear against the door to ensure there was no noise inside. The two of them shared a look before Carl reached for the doorknob and turned it open.

As they entered, the air was thick with dust, and an unsettling silence hung over everything. The walls were painted a faded peach, their once cheerful hue now dull and peeling. Wooden trim, chipped and weathered, outlined the windows, allowing faint rays of sunlight to filter through and illuminate the remnants of a life once lived.

The two of them nodded at each other, ready to separate to see if any walkers were inside. Carl headed toward the kitchen while Nicki stepped into the living room. There was a worn leather sofa that sat crookedly, flanked by mismatched chairs that had seen better days. A patterned rug lay askew on the hardwood floor, which creaked underfoot, echoing the absence of life. On a glass coffee table, a stack of magazines lay untouched. It didn't seem there were any walkers in that room.

She walked out into the corridor, where she noticed framed photos of smiling families hanging crookedly on the walls. Their faces were dust-covered, whispering stories of joy now overshadowed by the stark reality of abandonment.

Then she saw Carl walking out of the kitchen, and as he turned to look at her, Nicki suddenly heard a growling sound. It was louder than usual, and then, from around the corner, a walker appeared.

"Behind you!" they both shouted at the same moment. Nicki quickly shot her arrow at the walker behind Carl as he fired in her direction. When she turned, she saw the walker behind her now lying on the ground, Carl's bullet in its skull.

"The bastard was in the closet," she whispered to herself, realizing she hadn't noticed it there. Then she turned to Carl, sharing a nod of gratitude with him.

Then Nicki glanced back at the walker behind her. It was a woman, and as she looked at the photos on the wall, she realized it was the same woman who had once lived there. When she turned to follow Carl up the stairs, she noticed that the man from the photos was also present. She took a deep breath, hoping that at least one of them hadn't killed the other.

Shaking off those thoughts, she made her way upstairs. The floor seemed clear as she looked around for Carl. She didn't have to try hard to find him; he was looking at more pictures in a drawer in the corridor.

"It's a pretty house," she said, leaning her back against the wall next to Carl, who looked at her with curiosity.

"I've never asked you," he reflected, "Did you live in a house like this one?"

Nicki shook her head, looking down. "No, an apartment," she answered. Her mind drifted back to her parents. She really hoped that one day she would see them again—or at least find out what had happened to them. And their grandmother.

"It must be hard for you," he said, keeping his blue eyes on her. "Not knowing." Tears welled up in Nicki's eyes as she thought about her parents.

"It's alright," he said again, but his tone made her frown. He was speaking almost softly to her. "You don't have to say anything. I'll keep your secret, though."

She looked at him, confused. "What secret?" she asked, her voice devoid of harshness.

"What makes you cry," he answered.

She shook her head, drying her tears. "It's not exactly a secret."

Then he smiled at her, a genuine smile. "I'll keep it anyway," he said before walking toward the bedroom. Nicki watched him with wide eyes, then a little chuckle escaped her lips as she took another arrow and followed him.

Lucky for them, there was no walker inside, so they started to look around. Nicki walked toward the drawer and opened it. There were many shirts. They could use some.

For an instant, she felt a pang of sympathy for the couple lying dead downstairs, but once again, she pushed that thought aside. Gesturing to Carl to hand her his backpack, she opened it to put some clothes inside.

"Cool!" she heard him exclaim as he walked to a shelf. "Is this a pair of binoculars?" Nicki chuckled as he pointed them at her.

"Does it work?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, turning to look outside. "We could use them to..." Nicki frowned as he suddenly stopped talking and walked back toward her. "We gotta go," he said, his face pale.

"What?" she asked, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along with him.

"A herd," he said, making her eyes widen. Was the herd already there? It couldn't be. That herd was heading in another direction. How did they get so far so quickly?

"Where are they?" Nicki asked as they sprinted toward the door of the house.

"They're coming from the east," he answered, glancing at the street in that direction. Nicki followed his gaze. They would be there any minute now.

"We gotta tell the others," she said, nudging him to run toward the school.

The two of them raced side by side, adrenaline fueling their speed as Nicki glanced back over her shoulder to ensure no walkers were in pursuit. They weren't far from the school, and with their urgency, they burst through the doors and into the classroom.

"Dad!" Carl cried, his voice a mix of fear and urgency.

"Carl!" Nicki heard Rick call as he sprinted toward his son. "What's going on?"

"We gotta go now!" Carl exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic.

"A herd is coming," Nicki panted, trying to catch her breath. "Carl saw them coming from the east."

Rick's eyes widened in alarm. "Daryl!" he shouted, turning on his heel and leading them back into the classroom. "We gotta move! Everyone, get up!"

Nicki met Sarah's gaze for a brief moment, then rushed over to her sister to help gather their sleeping bags, their earlier calm shattered by the looming threat.

"Lori, let me help!" Carol called out as she ran to assist Lori. In the chaos, Hershel and Beth quickly packed away their food while Rick, Daryl, and Maggie stood guard by the door, eyes scanning for any signs of danger. Glenn and T-Dog had already jumped out of the window to get the cars running.

"Come on! Come on!" Glenn urged, running back to help pass bags through the window. One by one, they scrambled out, each person moving with a sense of urgency. Glenn, Maggie, Beth, and Hershel piled into one car, while Nicki climbed into another with Carol and T-Dog. Rick, Lori, and Carl took their own vehicle, and Daryl sped off on his bike with Sarah.

As they left the town, Nicki turned around and caught sight of at least forty walkers roaming the streets, their grotesque figures stumbling aimlessly. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she sank back in her seat, feeling the weight of despair settle over her. Once again, they were back on the road, a relentless journey through a nightmare that seemed never-ending. When would this horror finally stop? When would they find a safe place?