Five weeks later
The world had fallen into chaos; the once bustling streets now lay in ruin, their pavements cracked and overgrown with weeds. Buildings stood as hollow shells, their windows shattered, and their doors hanging on hinges. The remnants of a once-thriving civilization were now just reminders of a world that existed before.
Amidst the desolation, a lone figure walked, his steps measured and cautious. Clad in tattered clothes and carrying a worn backpack, a spiked baseball bat rests over his shoulder as he whistles a tune.
Abel navigated through the debris-strewn landscape with no destination in mind after the first day of the outbreak. He thought everything would have been handled by the military, but it got worse.
After the first few weeks, the power and water grid shut down, leaving the world in darkness. Fresh water was harder to come by along with food since a mass panic struck the nation by a storm. Luck was on Abel's side, as he had enough food to last at least a few weeks, along with the water he got from the sinks, before the power shut everything down.
Abel had left King's County and made the long trek to Atlanta in hopes of finding supplies or survivors.
The young man's mind wandered to better times where he was sitting at the table with his Uncle Rick, Aunt Lori, and Cousin Carl, talking about their mundane days like school or their jobs. He remembered that his uncle Rick was in a coma from a gunshot he received from an escaping suspect.
He stopped whistling as a sad look graced his face.
"He's dead. Their all dead." Abel said darkly to himself.
A sudden noise put him on alert; he quickly cleared his mind of the depressing thoughts and focused on surviving. His eyes travel to every alley and blind spot that surrounds him. A low moan and the sound of broken glass crunching on the ground caught his attention.
He whips his head around to see a lone walker aimlessly shambling around with his hollow eyes. Abel walks forward and spins the bat in his hand before tightly holding it as he walks towards the flesh eater.
The walker quickly turns towards him and lets out a loud growl before lunging towards him. In an instant, Abel swings his baseball bat, slamming the walker in the side of the temple. A handful of the spikes stick into it's head, causing it to fall limp as the metal impales its brain.
He pulls his weapon free and lets the body fall to the ground in a heap. He glances down at the now-dead walker and lets out a sigh. His gaze travels upwards as he looks at the towering skyscrapers of Atlanta. The sky began to glow with an orange hue as the sun began to set.
Abels stomach rumbled loudly, causing him to groan in discomfort. He lightly patted it to ease the hunger pains he has.
"I need food and shelter. Fast." He whispered to himself.
He walked deeper into the abandoned city as a sense of unease filled the air. His eyes travel around, but he sees nothing but discarded cars and a few military vehicles. Even deeper, a large barrel of something can be seen sticking out around a corner of the next block.
The world seemed to answer his prayers. A lone gas station sits on the corner of the block he's walking down. He picked up the pace to jog and made a beeline straight for the building. The door was hanging by its hindges as it swayed slightly from the breeze that blows through the empty streets.
Abel quickly entered through the threshold and into the gas station; his eyes widen in surprise, but a large smile graces his face.
The shelves had been knocked over and held small bags of chips and other snacks. The coolers are slightly filled with fizzy drinks such as soda, flavored water, energy drinks, and regular water.
Abel's stomach growled loudly at finally finding something to fill it. He quickly kneeled and took off his backpack before shoveling in as much food as his pack could hold. His eyes are drawn to a small pile of different candy bars. A small, sad smile graces his face as a pleasant memory makes its way to his mind.
It was of him, his uncle, and his cousin. They all went out to grab junk food for a movie night that they had every Friday. Milkyway's were his cousin's and uncle's favorites; he quickly snapped out of his thoughts and grabbed a handful of different types of candy bars.
He stood up and made his way towards the coolers, where he grabbed water, cans of soda, and a handful of energy drinks.
A sudden, loud crash alerts him. Spinning around, he sees a couple walkers knock over the remaining shelf that stood. The loud noise echoed through the deadly quiet city, and distant moans and snarls slowly started to fill the air around him. Abel's adrenaline started to fuel his body as they got closer. Quickly closing his pack, he slipped it on his shoulders and tightly held his weapon.
A door leading to the back of the gas station flies open, revealing a few more undead as they shamble towards him. He glances back and forth to see walkers on each side of him.
Abel slams one of the closest walkers in the head with his bat, and blood sprays the ground as it falls limp. He pulls it free, removing some of the rotting flesh with it. Another walker lunges towards him and tries to take a bite.
He kicks the walker in the chest, sending it stumbling back. The undead monster nearly topples over some of the shelves. Abel kicks it again in the chest, sending it over the shelves, and watches as its head slams into a corner, splitting its head in half.
Using the opening, Abel grabs a nearby can of food and whips it at the window, shattering the glass. A loud alarm blares out around the surrounding area, sending a feeling of dread up Abel's body.
"Fuck.." He curses as he quickly vaults out the now-shattered window, his eyes widening as more undead begin to pour out of the nearby buildings, alleys, and blind spots he checked earlier.
Abel's breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted down the narrow alleyway. His heart pounded in his chest, drowning out the low growls and shuffling footsteps of the walkers closing in behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder—dozens of the undead were just a few yards away, their decaying faces twisted in hungry snarls.
He skidded to a halt as he reached a dead end, a brick wall towering over him. The only escape route was blocked by the relentless horde. Abel tightened his grip on his spiked baseball bat, the wooden handle slick with sweat and grime. Barbed wire wrapped around the barrel gleamed menacingly, ready to tear through flesh and bone.
"Alright, come on!" Abel shouted, trying to steady his shaky hands as his adrenaline was on full throttle.
He planted his feet, raising the bat over his shoulder, and prepared to make his stand. The first walker lunged at him, its rotting hands reaching for his throat. Abel swung the bat with all his might, the spikes crunching through the walker's skull. Blackened blood and bits of bone sprayed out as the creature crumpled to the ground.
Before he could catch his breath, another walker staggered toward him. Abel pivoted on his heel, bringing the bat down in a powerful arc. The spiked barrel connected with the walker's temple, caving in its skull with a sickening squelch. The creature dropped, twitching.
Abel didn't have time to think. He turned and swung again, the bat tearing through a walker's jaw and sending teeth flying. The spikes snagged on flesh, but he wrenched it free, ripping away chunks of decaying meat.
More walkers closed in, their numbers seeming endless. Abel's arms ached with every swing, but he couldn't stop. He swung the bat in wide arcs, knocking back walkers and creating a small, bloody circle of safety around him.
"Come on!" he roared, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He slammed the bat into another walker's chest, the spikes puncturing its heart. The walker fell, but Abel barely noticed. He was lost in a frenzy, his only focus on the next target.
His movements became a blur, the bat rising and falling in a relentless rhythm. Each strike was met with the sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh. The walkers fell one by one, but still more came.
Abel's strength began to wane, his swings growing slower and less precise. A walker's hand grazed his arm, and he stumbled, nearly losing his balance. Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to keep fighting.
With a final, desperate burst of energy, Abel swung the bat in a wide arc, knocking back several walkers at once. He seized the momentary reprieve to scramble up a pile of debris and over the wall, his muscles screaming in protest.
He tumbled to the ground on the other side, the sound of walkers pounding on the wall behind him. Gasping for breath, he looked down at his spiked baseball bat, now dripping with gore. Abel wiped his brow with a trembling hand and forced himself to his feet.
"Thank God," he said in between large gulps of air.
His breathing is ragged as sweat drips down his face. Glancing back at the wall, he gives a smirk and lets out a tired chuckle.
"Note to self: stay out of cities." Abel spoke quietly as he slowly walked away from Atlanta, leaving it behind.
Abel had walked for what felt like hours trying to leave behind Atlanta when suddenly the distant sound of gunshots ringout in the distance. He stops and holds his breath, the shots echo again from where he came from.
"A survivor?" He questions quietly as he stares in the direction he thinks the shots came from. The gunshots go off for a handful of seconds before they stop completely, the young man stands their and contimplates what he should do. Should he venture back into Atlanta and risk finding the survivor or keep walking away and get farther away from the city?
"I pray to God whoever that was makes it.." Abel said quietly as he turned around and continued his treck.
Abel trudged forward, each step heavier than the last. The adrenaline that had fueled his desperate fight was wearing off, leaving him with a bone-deep exhaustion. He stumbled over a fallen branch, nearly collapsing, but he forced himself to keep moving.
Dark clouds had gathered overhead, and the first fat drops of rain began to fall, pattering softly on the cracked pavement. Abel glanced up, feeling the cool water splash against his face. Within moments, the heavens opened, and a torrential downpour cascaded over him.
Abel stopped in his tracks, standing motionless as the rain poured down, soaking him to the bone. He closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sky, and let out a long, deep breath. The cold water washed away the grime and blood, cleansing him in a way that felt almost spiritual.
A laugh bubbled up from his chest, and before he knew it, he was laughing uncontrollably. The absurdity of it all—the fight for survival, the relentless walkers, the never-ending struggle—hit him with full force. The rain, a simple act of nature, felt like the universe's way of offering him a brief, bittersweet reprieve.
He spread his arms wide, embracing the storm. The bat hung loosely in his grip, its spikes glistening as the rainwater dripped off. Abel's laughter echoed through the empty highway a sound of defience and release.
For a moment, he let himself feel something other than fear and desperation. The rain cooled his fevered skin, each drop a tiny reminder that he was still alive. The world around him might be falling apart, but in this instant, he felt a strange, fleeting sense of peace.
The downpour intensified, turning the streets into rivers. Abel's laughter eventually subsided, replaced by a deep, contented sigh. He wiped the rain from his eyes and looked around, the world now a blurry, rain-soaked canvas.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Time to move."
With renewed vigor, Abel ajusted his grip on the bat and set off once more, his steps lighter despite the weight of his exhaustion. The rain continued to fall, masking the sounds of distant walkers and the ever-present dangers of this new world.
Abel trudged through the rain-soaked forest, the downpour gradually easing to a light drizzle. His clothes clung to his body, and his boots squelched with every step. The rain had washed away most of the grime and gore, but he still felt the weight of exhaustion in his bones. As he moved through the dense foliage, he kept his spiked baseball bat at the ready, wary of any walkers that might lurk nearby.
A muggy atmosphere filled the quiet forest; the only sound that filled the air was from him walking or the light drizzle of rain. Suddenly, a rustling sound caught his attention. Abel froze, his grip tightening on the bat. He listened intently, the forest around him eerily quiet except for the soft patter of rain on leaves. Then he saw it—a flash of movement, the outline of a figure moving stealthily through the trees.
Abel let out a high-pitched whistle. The figure stopped and turned towards him, revealing a man with a crossbow slung over his shoulder, a worn leather vest, and a determined expression.
"Who the hell are you?" The man demanded, his crossbow at the ready but not yet aimed.
"Name's Abel," he replied, lowering his bat slightly. "I thought you were one of the biters."
The man eyed him warily, his gaze flicking to the blood-streaked bat and back to Abel's face. "Daryl," he said after a moment. "The hell's you doing out here?"
"I got surrounded by biters," Abel explained, glancing back the way he'd come. "I managed to fight them off and get away. Some advice: stay out of Atlanta. The place is packed full of them."
Daryl seemed to stare at Abel, unsure of what to do. They both stood still and studied each other. After what feels like a few minutes, the hunter speaks up.
"You came out of Atlanta?" Daryl asked, and Abel nodded his head and rested his bat over his shoulder.
"Yeah. God was watching out for me; I thought it would be a gold mine and full of suplies for the taking." Abel explained with a small smirk. Daryl leans on a nearby tree and looks at Abel curiously.
"Was it?" He asked, and Abel nodded his head with a large smile.
"Yeah, it was. I got some food that can hold you over for a while, and a few things of water." Abel says as he slips his bag off his shoulders and opens his pack, revealing his trove of supplies.
Daryl lets out a small snort of amusement as he pushes off the tree he was leaning on.
"You're crazy for showing off a stash like that. A desperete person would probably rob you and take it." Daryl said Abel lets out a small chuckle and shrugs.
"You might be right, but I don't get that feeling from you. So, what would you like?" Abel asks, glancing up at Daryl. The hunter looks at him confusedly before glancing down at the stash of food and water.
"Got any Twix bars?" He asks the witch, and Abel nods his head, rifles through the bag, and pulls out a king-sized twix bar.
"Here you go, and a bottle of water. What are you doing out here?" Abel asks as he tosses the items toward Daryl. He watches as the crossbow-wielding man drinks half the bottle of water before looking at him.
"Hunting. Tracking a deer I've had my sights on for a few days, it came this way, then took off that way." Daryl says, pointing straight ahead of them, and Abel looks out into the vast woods and can't see any signs that a deer was in the area.
"That all you hunting?" Abel asked. Daryl shakes his head and turns slightly, showing off a whole bundle of squirrels.
"Nah. These little fuzzy bastards are good to eat, speaking of which." He says this while lifting his crossbow and aiming it at Abel.
A noise behind the young man catches both of their attention. Glancing over his shoulder, a large grey squirrel can be seen sitting on a branch, eating an acorn. The sound of something whizzing in the air slams into the small creature, sending him tumbling to the ground below. Abel turns and sees a crossbow bolt sticking out of its large body as Daryl walks towards it.
"Gonna eat good tonight." Daryl says as he picks the dead squirrel up by the tail and looks it over.
"Pretty damn good shot with that thing. How'd you know that squirrel was there?" Abel questioned, and Daryl let out a small snort as he pulled his bolt free from the small creature.
"I saw him scurrying up the tree. I wasn't about to let dinner get away from me."
Abel lets out a chuckle of amusement and slips his pack onto his shoulders.
"I forgot how nice it is to talk with someone. Talking to yourself gets old fast."
Daryl glances up at the young man with a contrived look in his eyes. He finishes adding the squirrel to his collection and starts loading another bolt into his crossbow.
"You're one lucky son of a bitch. I'm the one that found you; come on." He says, nodding his head to the side. Abel's eyes widen slightly, and he watches as he begins tracking the deer he spoke about earlier.
"You're letting me come with you?" Abel asks, and Daryl glances over his shoulder.
"If you can keep up." He says this before walking away. Abel lets out a quiet chuckle and smiles.
"Thank you, God. You're looking out for me once again." He says this before jogging after him to catch up.
2 Days Later
Two days had passed in the blink of an eye since Abel joined Daryl; they spent most of the time trying to track the deer Daryl had been tracking a day prior.
Abel's muscles ached from the relentless trek, but he pushed on, driven by the promise of fresh venison. Daryl led the way, his eyes sharp and focused. Abel had quickly come to respect the man's hunting skills and quiet determination. They had tracked the deer's movements through the dense underbrush, finding signs of its presence—a broken branch here, fresh tracks there. But so far, the animal has eluded them.
"What do we do if one of the biters gets 'em?" Abel asked, and Daryl scoffed and stalked forward.
"Not likely. Deer are faster than these undead bastards."
The two continued onward, following the broken branches the animal had left in its path; loose twigs crunched under their feet when a sudden movement caught their attention. They look through some green leaves to see a group of people beating on something.
"The hell are they doing?" Abel whispered to Daryl, to which he got a scoff in return.
"That's the group I'm with. Come on." He says walking forward.
Abel watches as Daryl hops down from behind a large pile of rocks. One of the men who had been using the butt of his shotgun as a blunt weapon quickly spins around and aims it at Daryl with wide eyes before a look of recognition relaxes him.
"Oh Jesus.." The man mumbles to himself as he turns to the others. Daryl glances around the small group before looking down to see the deer they had been tracking with a large chunk of flesh torn from its neck. The body of a beheaded walker lays close next to it.
"Son of a bitch, that's my deer!" He shouts angrily as he walks towards the deer. A sudden chuckle puts the group on guard as Abel reveals himself with a small smirk on his face.
"I thought you said it was unlikely." Abel says hopping down from where Daryl appeared before. In an instant, every weapon the small group had was aimed at him. The young man raised his arms and glanced around at the people.
One has a rifle, one has a shotgun, one has a silver revolver, one has a shovel, and the last one has a baseball bat.
"Not big on welcomes, are you?" Abel says with a smile that the man with a shotgun steps forward with his sights trained on him.
"Who the hell is this, Daryl?" He asks without taking his eyes off the young man. Daryl glances around, seeing them all aim their weapons at Abel, and he scoffs.
"He's a kid I found in the woods; he helped me get some of these. Lower your damn weapons!" He says, looking around, still angry about the deer, one by one, each member lowers their weapons. Abel looks around and glances around until his eyes land on the man with the shotgun and the one in the white shirt.
"Ah, look at it all gnawed on by this. Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard!" He says that as he kicks the body of the decapitated walker, Abel lets out a small chuckle.
"I think he's dead, dude."
Daryl shoots him a glare but shakes his head. As he retrieves the bolts that were stuck in the deer's back end, an older man with a fisherman's cap walks over and puts a hand on Daryl's shoulder with a friendly look in his eyes.
"Calm down, son; that's not helping."
Daryl shrugs him off as a look of anger glazes over his face.
"What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?" He shouts angrily before looking back at the deer.
"Me and the kid have been tracking this deer for days. Gonna drag it back to camp and cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we could cut around this chewed-up part right here?" He asks while motioning with an arrow tip around where the walker ripped up the neck.
"I would not risk that." The man with the shotgun says relaxing; he glances at Abel with a confused look. In his mind, Abel looks familiar, like he knows him somehow, but he can't place it.
"That's a damn shame. Sorry about the deer, Daryl." Abel says. Daryl glances at him, pulls the bundle of squirrel off his belt, and holds it up high.
"We got us a bundle of squirrels, a dozen or more. Also, those snacks you got should be more than enough for all of us." He says this before walking past the group and towards the camp.
The severed head starts to move, and its lower jaw snaps open and close repeatedly. Gurgiling sounds escape the bloody stump of a neck. Abel walks over to it and lifts his leg before stomping on it. The head squashes like a grape under the force of his boot, spewing blood and brain matter on the ground.
"Oh God." A femenine voice says repulsed. Abel looks over to see a pretty girl with long, flowing blonde hair. He watches as she turns and walks back towards the camp with a disgusted face. Following behind her is another blonde-haired girl who was also attractive to him.
The older man with the fishing hat steps towards Abel with a curious but friendly gaze and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"What's your name, son?"
Abel turns and looks at the man with a friendly smile.
"Abel Grimes. Sorry for barging into ya'll's home like this."
The older man's face lights up as a wide smile graces his face. He pats him a few times on the back.
"Not at all. I'm glad a friendly face made it here in one piece. I'm Dale; that's T-Dog, Jim, Glenn, and." Before Dale could finish, the sound of something heavy falling to the ground caught their attention.
Everyone looks at the man in the white shirt who stares at Abel with wide eyes; it's like he's seen a ghost. He takes a few steps forward as his revolver falls to the ground.
"A-Abel? I thought you were dead." He says in a shaky voice, the young man is taken aback as he stares at the man until his own eyes widen in shock.
"Uncle Rick? Holy shit, Shane too?" He says, finally remembering what the two look like, and in an instant, Rick embraces Abel in a tight hug.
"I-I can't believe it. They said you were dead." Rick says as he tightly squeezes Abel, the young man lets out a chuckle and pats him on the back.
"God was watching out for me. A couple close calls, but I got out."
Abel pulls away and pats Rick on the shoulder a few times with a wide smile. Shane snaps out of his stupor and smiles at the young man.
"I'm glad you're alive, Abel. When we went to that school, it was chaos. Bodies pilled in the hallways, and half the building was burned down. I checked every nook and cranny for you. He's cut off as Abel pulls him into a hug, a large smile on his face.
"Thanks for looking for me. It's good to see you, Shane." Abel says happy to see people he knew before the world went to shit. Shane pats him on the back a few times before they separate.
"Abel! You comin? We gotta gut and skin these squirrles!" Daryl shouts.
The young man lets out a chuckle as he walks towards the camp with a small smile on his face. Daryl can be seen counting their haul on a plastic table.
"How many do we have to gut?" Abel asks, and Daryl looks up with a small smirk.
"Eighteen. It should be easy with me, you, and Merle." Dary says, standing up and walking towards a tent that sits a little ways away from camp.
"Merle! Get your ugly ass out here. I got us some squirrels! Let's stew 'em up and teach the kid how to skin!" He shouts towards the tent, but there's no movement in it. He curses under his breath and walks towards it.
"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane says as he runs a hand through his hair a few times, a serious look on his face as he quickly catches up to Daryl.
"About what?" Daryl asks with a confused look on his face. Shane sighs and clears his throat a few times. "About Merle: "There was a problem in Atlanta."
Slowly, others from around the camp come to see what the noise is. Daryl looks around, confused, until a feeling of dread fills him.
"He dead?" He asks, and Shane stares at him for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond. "We're not sur-" He's cut off as Rick walks forward.
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." He says this while standing beside Shane. Abel steps up and stands beside Daryl, looking between the three curiously.
"He's either dead or he ain't!" Daryl shouts. He paces back and forth nervously as the feeling of dread gets worse, a look of anger on his face as he looks between Shane and Rick.
"Who are you?"
"Rick Grimes."
"Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?!"
"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof and hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick says guilt in his voice, and Daryl takes a few steps away from them and starts pacing even faster as his mind tries to process what he was told.
"Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, AND YOU JUST LEFT HIM THERE?!" He shouts in fury as he glares at Rick, and the man nods his head slowly.
"Yeah.."
Daryl's face slowly contorts to one of pure rage. He swings a fist wildly at Rick, but he weaves out of the way and steps to the side. Shane quickly shoulder-checks him, causing him to fall to the ground. Daryl growls in anger and pulls out the hunting knife he had stored on his waist.
"Watch the knife!" T-Dog shouts, dropping the wood he was carrying. Abel steps between Rick and Daryl with his hands up, trying to deescalate the situation.
"Daryl, calm down. You're not thinking right now, and you might do something you'll regret." Abel says that, trying to calm him down, the man switches his glare towards him as he slowly starts to walk in a circle.
"Get out of my way, Abel." Daryl says it with nothing but anger in his voice, and Abel shakes his head.
"I'm not going to do that; just calm down, and we can talk this over." He says still trying to calm him down.
"There's nothing to talk about; that bastard left my brother to die!" Daryl shouts as he swings the knife towards Abel.
The young man quickly leans back and weaves around the area, dodging each slash aimed at him. Daryl snarls in rage before switching up his attacks. He thrusts forward with the sharp blade, trying to stab before quickly feinting into a slash towards his stomach. The blade drags across his ragged clothes, exposing his stomach.
He grimaces slightly, feeling the steel lightly cut him, but he quickly steps back and dodges out of the way. Shane tries to grab Daryl from behind, but the hunter reacts and swings the knife in a wide arc. He quickly steps back, dodging away from the blade.
Daryl, consumed by his emotions, thrusts the knife forward, trying to stab Abel, but the young man quickly grabs his wrist and moves to his back before jumping onto it. Daryl grunts in anger but stops as Abel uses his weight to pull him to the ground. He quickly wraps his arm under his neck, putting him in a chokehold.
"You best let me go!" He screams as he thrashes around, trying to get free. Abel tightens his hold slightly and wraps one of his legs over Daryl's lower half, preventing him from moving.
"I can't do that; you'll do something you'll regret. I don't want to see that."
He tries to struggle against Abel's hold; he reaches with his hands and starts slapping him in the face, trying to still break free.
"Choke holds illegal." He says that as he slowly starts to calm down, Abel lets out a small chuckle.
"I'll let you give me one later."
Daryl stops struggling and whimpers, letting the dam boil over. Abel eases his hold and lets him breathe a little. Rick kneels down in front of Daryl but glances at Abel before focusing on the irrational hunter.
"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic; do you think you can manage that?" He asks, but Daryl doesn't reply. He leans closer and looks him in the eyes with a serious look.
"Do you think you can manage that?" He asks once again, and Daryl goes limp, giving up on the struggle. Rick looks up at Abel and nods slightly. Abel releases his hold on Daryl, letting him get up. He quickly climbs to his feet with a sad and angry look.
"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others." He says, holding up a hand and trying to keep the peace, Daryl keeps his gaze on the ground as his mind digests what he's hearing. He slowly begins to catch his breath from swinging his knife and almost being choked out.
"It's not Rick's fault." T-Dog says, speaking up, and they look over at him to see a gulty look on his face.
"What are you talking about?" Daryl asks. T-Dog hesitates, but the guilt is too much for him to bear anymore. "I had the key. I dropped it."
Daryl looks at him, confused.
"You couldn't pick it up?" He asks, and T-Dog lets out a sigh.
"Well, I dropped it down a drain."
Daryl scoffs at him and throws a rock he has picked up.
"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't."
"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get him, with a padlock."
"It's got to count for something." Rick says, shrugging his shoulders.
Daryl looks between them before his eyes well up with tears again. He quickly wipes them away and yells in a shaky voice.
"HELL WITH ALL Y'ALL! Just tell me where he is, so's I can go get him."
"He'll show you, isn't that right?" A femenine voice speaks up, making everyone glance at her. The woman's gaze was on Rick, with an uncertain look in her eyes. Rick looked at the ground briefly before nodding his head a few times.
"I'm going back." He says breaking the silence. The woman who spoke up stands up and walks away with an angry look on her face. The crowd slowly starts to disperse. Daryl walks off to get his gear for the journey, as does Rick. A skinnier woman walks over to Abel with a friendly smile and holds out her hand.
"I haven't seen you around camp before; I'm Carol. You look like you need a shower."
Abel gently shakes her hand with a friendly smile of his own.
"I'm Abel; nice to meet you, Carol. Yes, I could use one. I haven't had one since the rain that happened a few days ago."
"There's a reservoir over that way; you can bathe over there. Just swim a little ways away from shore. We do use that for drinking water, and I can also wash your clothes. They look filthy." She says this, taking in his appearance, and she looks him up and down and gives him a small smile. A younger girl, no older than twelve, walks over and hugs Carol with a shy look on her face.
"Who's he?" She asks while slightly hiding behind Carol. Abel gives a small smile and crouches down slightly.
"I'm Abel; nice to meet you."
The girl smiles shyly before hiding more behind her mother. Carol smiles and gently rubs her head.
"Please forgive her; she's shy around new people. Now, take off your clothes, and I'll get started on them."
Abel takes off his shirt, hoodie, boots, socks, and pants. His unkempt hair sticks out wildly, and his torso is lean and muscular with a few scars and bruises. He stands in compression shorts as he hands the pile of dirty clothes towards the kind woman.
"Thank you. Do you mind if I also leave my bag with you?"
Carol nods, takes the dirty pile of clothes, and grabs his bag before walking towards an ironing board. Abel smirks, leans towards the young girl, and whispers.
"If you open my bag, I have some snacks. I have a few cans of soda also; take as much as you want." He ends with a wink, and the young girl giggles and chases after her mother.
The midday sun beat down relentlessly, and the air was thick with humidity. Abel wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced around the camp. A large smile graced his face as he was finally with a group of people.
He grabbed his spiked baseball bat, just in case, and set off towards the reservoir. The path wound through a dense forest, with the canopy above providing some much-needed shade. The sound of running water grew louder as he approached, a soothing contrast to the usual cacophony of walker growls and the rustle of wind through leaves.
Finally, he reached the reservoir. The water shimmered under the sun, clear and inviting. Abel set his bat down on the shore and stepped into the cool water, shivering slightly at the initial chill, then waded in until he was waist-deep. The cold water was a shock to his system, but it felt incredible against his sweaty, hot body.
With a deep breath, he plunged under the surface, feeling the grime and sweat wash away. He resurfaced, running his hands through his hair and scrubbing his face. The water was a balm, cleansing not just his body but his mind as well. He floated on his back, arms outstretched and eyes closed, and let the cool water support him.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Abel allowed himself to relax. He listened to the sounds of nature—the distant call of birds, the gentle lapping of water against the shore. The sun warmed his face, but the water kept his body cool, a perfect balance that eased his aching muscles.
As he floated, memories of the world before the fall drifted into his mind. Summers spent at the lake, swimming with friends, laughing without a care. It felt like a lifetime ago, another world entirely. But here, in this moment, he found a small piece of that lost tranquility.
He opened his eyes, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. The vast expanse above mirrored the freedom he felt in the water. For now, there were no walkers and no immediate threats. Just the gentle ebb and flow of the reservoir, cradling him in its embrace.
Abel stayed like that for a long time, letting the water wash away the grime and the weight of his worries. He knew he couldn't stay forever—reality would intrude soon enough. But for now, he allowed himself this simple pleasure—a moment of peace in a world gone mad.
Eventually, he swam back to shore, feeling rejuvenated. He stood in the shallow water for a moment, savoring the last cool drops, before stepping out and letting the warm air dry him off.
A sudden bit of laughter caught his attention. Glancing to his right, a small group of women can be seen washing some clothes. Another round of laughter escapes them, followed by hushed whispers. He makes his way over to them, and one of the blonde women he saw earlier turns and glances at him. She gives him a friendly smile as the air is thick with laughter.
Each of the women slowly turns to glance at Abel. He stands at the edge of the water and notices the pile of dirty clothes. He kneels down, grabs his shirt, and holds it up with a friendly smile.
"Do you guys need any help?" He asks. Carol glances up at him while scrubbing a shirt against a washboard.
"If you want too." Carol says as she wrings out a flannel, little bursts of laughter come from the two blonde women.
"Thanks for the help. Would you be alright with cleaning these as well?" One of the blonde women asks, and Abel looks over to see a medium-sized pile of clothes and nods. He slides the container over to his side and dips a shirt into the water.
"Sure thing, I'll do whatever y'all need." Abel says this as he gets into the groove of washing clothes. The women go back to their conversation and laugh every now and then, but Abel doesn't pay any mind since he doesn't want to ease drop.
"Is this a daily thing for y'all?" He asks as he scrubs the dirt and grime off a shirt. A dark-skinned woman lets out a chuckle.
"It sure is, sweetheart. What's your name? I saw you earlier with Dixon and Rick, fellow." She says this as she wrings out a shirt.
"Abel Grimes, I'm Rick's nephew. Mind if I know all of yours?"
A silence falls over them as they take in what Abel had just said, the older of the blonde's laughs as she sets a wet pair of pants into a basket.
"Holy shit, what are the chances that he reunites with his family and adds a nephew on top of that? Talk about the luckiest man in the world." She says it with a smile. Abel chuckles and shrugs his shoulders.
"Maybe, but I feel even luckier. I thought they were dead, but I'm glad they're alive and here." Abel says it with a small smile.
"I'm Andrea, by the way." She says, with a friendly smile, the younger blonde has been watching him. She notices his gaze on her and quickly averts her gaze as a red hue finds its way onto her cheeks. Mustering her courage, she looked back up and met his gaze with a small smile.
"I'm Amy. Nice to meet you." She said her voice was light and friendly. Abel gave her a small smile back as he turned his gaze to the dark-skinned woman.
"Jaqui, nice to meet you."
Abel nods his head and sets some of the clean clothes into a nearby basket. He turns to see a larger man smoking a cigarette walking over to them, but he turns his attention back towards the task at hand.
"I'm surprised you offered to help. Usually it's just us girls; well, Lori too." Amy says.
Abel lets out a small chuckle as he wrings out a shirt.
"I have to pull my weight somehow."
Amy gives him a once-over again, but with a red hue on her face, she has a big smile on her face.
"Handsome and not afraid to get your hands dirty is definitely my type of man." She says flirting with Abel. Andrea lightly elbows her with a laugh and is soon followed by the other women. The young man shakes his head with a small smirk, his cheeks slightly red from being flirted with.
The man he had seen earlier had now made his way over to them and took a long drag of a cigarette before speaking.
"What's so funny?" He asks with a hint of anger in his voice. The nice atmosphere seems to vanish as he arrives. Andrea turns to him with a small smile still on her face, trying to be nice.
"Just swapping war stories, Ed." Abel glances over to see her smile slowly vanish. Carol goes back to washing clothes without raising her gaze to meet anyone's eyes. A sudden, uneasy feeling fills the air as Ed walks closer to the edge to inspect their work.
"Problem, Ed?" She asks, looking up at him, slightly irritated that he's inspecting their work. He shakes his head as he takes another puff of his cigerette.
"Nothin' that concerns you," he says towards Andrea before focusing on Carol with stern but angry eyes. "And you outta focus on your work; this ain't no comedy club." He says this, looking at Carol. She glances fearfully at him and nods her head quickly as she goes back to washing clothes without protesting.
Abel lets out a snort of laughter, making them look at him.
"Sorry mister. They were just laughing at my shortcomings." He says, trying to take the heat off them, the older man glances at him and looks him up and down before letting out an amused scoff.
"That must be true if you're washing clothes." He says this before taking a drag of his cigarette. Abel stands up with a flanel in his hands, the amusement and cherry attitude he had now gone.
"If you don't like how the clothes are washed, you can do it yourself. Here." He says tossing the wet shirt at Ed, only to have it flung back into his face.
"Ain't my job, boy." He says, glaring at Abel, the young man lets the shirt fall to the ground as he glares back at the man before him. Andrea and Amy feel the shift in his demeanor and stand up.
"Abel, it's not worth it." Amy says, trying to keep the peace. Abel glances over to see the worried expressions on their faces.
"Ed, was it? Let me ask you something, Ed. What is it you do around camp? What do you do to pull your weight? Hmm?"
"It sure is hell ain't listening to some twink. Tell you what-" He flicks his cigerette into the resovior and snaps his fingers towards Carol. "Come on, let's go," he says sternly. The timid woman quickly stands up and slowly walks towards him. Andrea glares at the man and steps up next to Abel.
"I don't think she needs to go anywhere with you, Ed."
The man turns towards her with an enraged look in his eyes, being told what to do.
"And I say it's none of your goddamned business. Come on, now." He says in a more threatening tone that Abel steps between them and glares at the old sack of shit before him.
"Back off."
Carol gently grabs the back of his arm and gives a sad smile. He glances over his shoulder to see tears well up in the corner of her eyes.
"Abel, please, it doesn't matter." She says it meekly. Abel turns back to see Ed closer than before, and he has a dangerous look in his eyes as he glares at him.
"Hey, don't think I won't knock you on your ass just because you're a boy. Now you come on now, or you're going to regret it later," he threatens Carol. Jaqui throws a wet shirt back into her washbasin and stands up with her own angry look.
"So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed?"
Amy steps forward with her own glare and stares at Ed with disgust. Carol begins to slightly tremble from the argument that is taking place.
"Yeah, we've seen them."
Ed scoffs and glares at each of the women standing before him.
"You don't want to keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I am done talking. Come on." He says grabbing Carol by the arm and forcefully dragging her away. Andrea tries to pull her back.
"No, Carol, you don't have—" The trembling woman tries to say something to her, but Ed catches wind and turns to her with fury on his face.
"YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT! I TELL YOU WHAT!" He shouts, enraged, before slapping Carol across the face. The small woman recoils from the pain as the other women scream at Ed. In an instant, Abel saw red and walked towards the older man with nothing but rage on his face.
The three women separate Carol from Ed; Andrea hits him in the chest and pushes him back, while Amy pulls Carol away while consoling her. Abel stepped up to the man and slammed his head against the man's nose. He recoiled from the sudden attack and stumbled backward.
Abel grabs Ed by the back of the shirt and starts to drag him away without issue. Ed turned, his face red with rage, but he barely had time to react before Abel's fist connected with his jaw. The blow sent Ed sprawling to the ground, dazed and disoriented.
"You piece of human garbage!" Shouted Abel as he kicked Ed in the face, sending him onto his back.
Abel quickly gets on top of the abuisive piece of shit and starts angrily punching him. Carol's whimpers fuel his rage as he throws punch after punch. As he lands one last heavy haymaker, Ed's face is now discolored and bloody from the heavy shots he endured. He grabs him by the face and glares into his eyes.
"If I so much as hear a whisper of you laying a hand on that woman or little girl you have, I'll rip your fucking head off. Do you hear me?"
The once-aggressive man is now nothing but whimpers as he writhes in pain under him. Abel slams his head against the ground as he stands up, leaving him moaning in pain.
Carol quickly rushes to his side and kneels down beside Ed. She checks over his wounds and cries quietly as tears fall down her face. Abel looks over at the other women to see shocked and scared expressions on their faces.
He glances down at his bruised knuckles and clicks his tongue before walking away. As he climbs the hill leading back to the camp, Shane can be seen standing there with an impressed look on his face.
"Man, if you hadn't done something to that piece of shit. I was gonna." He says with a small smirk. Abel glances back to see Carol still fussing over Ed's wounds.
"He's a dead man if he does it again."
"You earned my respect for that one." Abel shakes his head and starts walking, but stops halfway.
"You got an extra shirt I can borrow?" He asked, and Shane nodded his head.
"I'll come find you and give it to you. Thanks for helping out around camp, Abel." He says walking toward his tent. Abel looks down at his bruised knuckles again and grimaces slightly before walking off to find another chore he can do.
Abel approached the RV with curiosity, and as he neared, he saw Dale hunched over the engine, muttering to himself as he tinkered with the various components. The older man's face was streaked with grease, and his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Need a hand?" Abel called out, trying to keep his voice steady.
Dale looked up, surprise flashing in his eyes, before a smile broke through the grime on his face. "The help would be appreciated. This old girl's giving me trouble; she's in no state to move if the need arises."
Abel nodded. He joined Dale at the front of the RV, peering into the engine compartment.
"What seems to be the problem?"
"She's overheating," Dale explained, wiping his hands on a rag. "I think there's a leak in the radiator, but I haven't been able to pinpoint it. My eyes aren't what they used to be."
Abel scanned the engine, his eyes narrowing as he traced the lines and hoses. "Have you checked the hoses? I could be a hairline crack, and those are a bitch to find."
Together, they inspected each hose, feeling for any telltale signs of damage. After a few minutes, Abel's fingers brushed against a damp spot on one of the lower hoses that connect to the radiator.
"Here," he said, pointing it out to Dale. It looks like we found the culprit."
Dale grinned, clapping Abel on the shoulder. "Good eye. Let's see if we can patch it up."
They worked in tandum, with Abel holding the hose steady while Dale applied a makeshift patch. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it would hold for a while. Dale wipes his forehead with sweat before something catches his attention.
A silhouette in the distance on a hill a little ways away from camp, he raises the binoculars that hang around his neck as the lenses focus; Jim can be seen digging with a shovel tightly held in his hands. He's dripping with sweat and covered in dirt. Dale lets his binoculars fall as he stares with a worried look.
"What's up?" Abel asks as he removes himself from the engine hold and looks at Dale. The older man turns to him with a concerned expression before pointing to where Jim is. Abel follows where he points and sees a silhouette.
"Who the hell is up there in this heat?" Abel asks as he wipes the sweat off his head.
"It's Jim, and he appears to be digging in 100-degree weather. I'll go see what he's doing; also, make sure to put some ice on that hand." He says this while pointing towards Abel's bruised knuckles on his left hand.
"Sure thing. How long do you think this duct tape will hold?" Abel asks, patting the side of the RV. Dale shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure. With the summer heat and from the engine, it doesn't look good. If I had to guess, a few hours at most."
Dale pats him on the shoulder and walks towards where Jim is. Abel uses the cloth and wipes his hands clean of grease and oil. Shane approaches him with a shirt hanging from one of his heads; he sets it on Abel's shoulder with a small smirk.
"Thanks, sorry for being a pain."
Shane lets out a small chuckle and pats him on the back.
"You're not being a pain; besides, you're helping' me keep this camp safe. While Rick and his ragtag group go on a rescue mission, we'll be here protecting the camp from walkers."
Abel nods his head as he slips the shirt over his head and onto his body. It's a little too tight and hugs his body in certain places. Shane lets out a snort of laughter at seeing how the shirt fits Abel.
"Jesus, dude. I'm going to have to start calling' you the jolly green giant." Shane said. Abel smirks at the nickname. Before he could give a retort back, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Turning his body slightly and glancing down, his face breaks out into a wide smile.
"When did you get here?!" Carl asks excidedly. Abel chuckles before pulling his cousin into a tight hug.
"Well, earlier today. I met Daryl a few days ago, and he brought me along as he hunted a deer."
Carl's face lights up to see Abel alive and safe.
"Dude, you won't believe what me and Shane caught earlier. It was a frog the size of a rock; it was the biggest one I've ever seen."
"I should have seen this little man. Dove under the water like Aqua Man himself." Shane adds, smirking at Carl, and Abel ruffles his cousin's hair.
"Well, I think that deserves a reward. Want a Milky Way?"
Carl's eyes light up at the mention of his favorite candy bar.
"Yeah! I haven't had one of those in forever!" Abel walks over to where his bag is; it's leaned up against an ironing board. He kneels down and opens the large pack, revealing an assortment of junk food.
"Where'd you get all this?" Shane asks, kneeling down beside him. Abel glances and smirks. "I did a really stupid thing. I went into Atlanta and found a gas station that wasn't looted. This is just what I could grab. Take whatever; I planned on handing them out to the others later tonight." Abel explained that as he grabbed a milky way, he also grabbed a snickers bar and tossed it towards Shane.
The man's eyes light up, seeing his favorite candy bar. He smiles as he tears into it.
"Dude! Much appreciated; I can't believe you remember my favorite bar." He says this before taking a large bite.
Someone laughing loudly catches their attention, and they see Morales laughing as he stares at the two sisters walking towards the camp with a huge bundle of fish.
"Check it out!" Morales calls to the camp, excitement evident in his voice. Abel made his way over to see Andrea hand the bundle of fish to Morales with a large smile.
"Because of you, my children will eat tonight." Morales says it with a large smile. Carl walks over and starts poking them with a small smile.
"We might have gotten a bit carried away." Andrea said it with a smile.
Abel chuckled as a wide smile spread across his face. "A bit carried away? It looks like you two caught the whole lake," he joked, his voice filled with admiration.
Amy chuckled. "It felt like it! But we figured, better to have too much than too little, right?"
Andrea nodded, wiping her hands on her jeans. "We're going to eat well tonight. And maybe even have leftovers for tomorrow."
Abel clapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "I'm not complaining. This is amazing. You two did a fantastic job."
The rest of the camp started to gather around, drawn by the promise of a hearty meal. Dale, who had gone to check on Jim, wandered over, his eyes holding a grim look.
"Hey, Dale, when's the last time you oiled those line reels? They are a disgrace." Andrea said it with amusement evident in her voice. The older man glances around at everyone grimly.
"I don't want to alarm anyone, but we may have a bit of a problem." Dale explains
Everyone looks at him curiously as he turns to point at Jim, who's still digging.
The group approached Jim, who's furiously digging a trench in the hard, dry earth. His shirt was soaked with sweat, his face was red, and his eyes were wild. He didn't even look up as the group approached, his focus entirely on the task at hand.
"Jim!" Lori called out, worry etched on her face. "You need to take a break. It's too hot to be working like this."
Jim ignored her, his shovel biting into the earth with renewed ferocity.
"Jim, listen to us," Andrea pleaded, stepping forward. "You're going to hurt yourself."
He still didn't respond; his breathing was heavy and labored. Shane and Abel exchanged glances, realizing that more forceful intervention was needed.
Shane stepped forward, his voice firm. "Jim, you need to stop. Now."
Jim's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with anger. "I can't stop! I have to do this!" He swung the shovel wildly, forcing the others to step back.
Abel moved closer, trying to calm him. "Jim, we're all worried about you. Let's just take a break and talk about this."
Jim's response was a guttural growl, and he swung the shovel again, narrowly missing Abel. The situation was spiraling out of control.
"Enough!" Shane barked, lunging forward to grab the shovel. Jim struggled, his strength surprising in his frenzied state.
Abel jumped in, helping Shane wrestle the shovel from Jim's grasp. Jim fought them; his movements were frantic and desperate. "Let me go! I have to finish!"
The rest of the group watched in stunned silence, too afraid to intervene but too worried to look away.
With a final, coordinated effort, Shane and Abel managed to disarm Jim, throwing the shovel to the side. Shane took the opportunity, tackled him to the ground, and restrained him.
"You've got no right! You've got no right!" He shouts as he struggles against Shane's hold. The man wriggles, trying to break free, so Shane puts more weight on Jim's back.
"Hey, hey, hey. Jim. Jim, nobody's going to hurt you. You hear me? Shhhhh." Shane says trying to calm the man down.
"No. That's a lie; that's the biggest lie there is." He whimpers out as tears stream down the sides of his face. "I told that to my wife and my two boys. I said it 100 times; it didn't matter. They came out of nowhere; there were dozens of 'em. Just pulled 'em right out of my hands."
With an uneasy silence falling over the group, the revelation that Jim just said fills the group with sadness. The sad man looks up towards the group with tears still streaming down his cheeks.
"You know, the only reason I got away was 'cause the dead were too busy eating my family."
Shane and Abel share a look as what Jim had said slowly digested inside their minds; pity was all they felt for the man. He gave up on trying to break free and just resigned to his fate. Quiet whimpers escape him as he remembers that awful day he had to endure.
It was now late into the night, and the camp gathered around a medium-sized campfire, eating freshly cooked fish. Abel can be seen sitting on the ground, taking his last bite of fish he ate off a stick. He tosses the bones into the fire and sighs, satisfied with a warm meal in his belly.
"Pass the fish, please." Sophia says politely, and Abel reaches over to a small table and grabs a plate before handing it to her.
"Here you go." He says it with a small smile, and Carol gives him a thankful smile before nudging her daughter. Sophia glances at him with a shy look.
"Thank you." She says, Abel nods as he basks in the warmth of the fire.
"Man, o man, is that good? I miss this." Shane says with a wide smile, staring into the fire, and Abel lets out a quiet laugh.
"This definitely beats being alone. I can't tell you how nice it is to sit next to people."
Morales swallows his mouthful of fish and glances at Abel. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he gives a friendly smile.
"So, Abel, what's your story? How did you survive the initial panic?"
I was just about to ask that, so, what do you say, hotshot?" Amy says, giving him a flirtatious smirk. Abel looks around the fire to see everyone's eyes on him. He took a deep breath, the memories still raw.
"Well, it was a perfectly mundane day. One of my teachers was lecturing us; one minute everything was normal, and the next, chaos. Teachers are ripping apart students, and people are fleeing screaming. The dead were everywhere, filling the hallways and trapping those alive inside." He paused, staring into the fire as he continued.
"I got trapped in a corridor with undead on each side of me; I thought I was gonna die. But a way out appeared, and I tackled one of them out of a window. The fall lasted maybe five seconds before we collided with the ground; it was the only way I was getting out of there. I ended up with a piece of glass lodged in my shoulder as karma for doing something reckless. The wound is nearly healed now."
The group fell silent, the weight of Abel's story hanging in the air. Amy stood up, brushing crumbs from her lap.
"Where are you going?" Andrea asks, glancing up at her. Amy's face flushes red.
"I have to pee. Jeez, you try to be discreet around here." She says walking away towards the RV. Abel suddenly feels the call of nature himself and stands up. He gives an akward smile.
"Nature calls." He says this before quickly walking away, the sound of laughter carrying him towards the edge of camp. Before he could pull his zipper down, a couple silhouettes quickly moved near the RV. A feeling of absolute dread fills him, and before he knew it, his legs had broken out into a dead sprint towards them.
"We're out of toilet paper." Amy says, irritated, as she swings the RV door open, a walker appears and grabs her arm, ready to take a piece of flesh from it. Abel appears and tackles it to the ground; he smashes its head in.
"Run to the others!" He shouts as more appear from the darkness. Amy quickly takes off towards the campfire with fear, pushing her forward.
"WALKERS! WALKERS IN THE CAMP!" She screams while running. In an instant, everyone stands up on high alert from Amy's scream. Shane quickly grabs his shotgun, ready for the incoming danger.
Abel grabs one of the walkers and slams its head off the RV a few times; it falls in a heap of rotting meat as another grabs him, pushing him into the wall. He uses his forearm to keep it away; it's teeth snap at him hungrily. He tightly squeezes his hand into a fist and punches the walker with all his strength; it stumbles back, allowing Abel to get free.
He grabs the shovel that was leaning up against the RV and slams it against the walker's head; the metal separates the jaw from its head. Abel thrusts it forward like a spear and cleaves it in half; the bottom half falls to the ground while the top of its head sits in the shovel.
Screams echo through the night, and the sound of a shotgun unloading shell after shell reaches his ears. The fire illuminates Shane as he stands tall, protecting the group that was eating fish. Abel runs towards them.
Andrea and Amy are holding hands and sticking together. Lori holds Carl's hand while using her free hand to grip the back of Shane's shirt. Jim wields a baseball bat and slams it into a walker's head. Dale fires off shots from a hunting rifle; Morales has a chain wrapped around his knuckles and punches a walker in the face, crushing its skull.
As Abel was getting closer to the group, a hand wrapped around his ankle, making him trip and slam the side of his face into the side of a wooden table. A crawling walker quickly crawls up his body and towards his neck. Abel pushes his fingers into his eye sockets, and blood begins to drip down his arms and onto his face.
He lets out a growl of anger, and as he puts more strength into it, Abel begins to pull with all his strength. The neck slowly starts to tear and stretch before ripping completely free from the body. Abel quickly stnads and slams the walker head into another, sending the undead beast reeling back.
He cocks his arm back and throws the head at the walker he had just hit. The walker is sent to the ground, growling hungrily. Abel stands over it before lifting his leg and stomping on its face, shattering the skull under the pressure. He bends down and retrieves the shovel that he lost when being tripped.
His breathing becomes ragged, but he pushes on and stumbles towards Amy and Andrea. Abel grips the shovel tightly in his two hands and slams the shovel into the face of a walker.
"Stay close; I'll protect you two!" He shouts, and Amy grabs the back of his shirt while holding onto Andrea's hand. A walker tries to grab Amy again, but is met with a shovel to the face. It's teeth, mixed with blood, send it flying as it falls to the ground.
One by one, Abel keeps killing any that get close, but more replace the last one he killed. He keeps pushing his way through and eventually makes a path.
"Run to the others! I'll cover the rear; whatever you do, keep moving! Don't look back!" He shouts for Andrea and Amy to hear.
Abel shoves a walker into a small group, and Andrea begins dragging Amy as they run towards Shane and the others.
A walker grabs Abel and pushes him back. He slams the shovel against the walker's temple, shattering its skull on impact.
"MOVE TO THE RV!" Morales shouts for everyone to hear, and everyone slowly begins following after him. Abel's completely surrounded by their retreat; he pushes past a few of them and makes it to the campfire.
"Come on, you bastards," he muttered, stepping forward to meet them.
The first walker lunged, its decayed hands reaching for him. Abel swung the shovel with all his might, the blade connecting with a sickening crunch. The walker crumpled, but more took its place.
He swung again and again, each strike fueled by desperation. The shovel's edge sliced through flesh and bone, but the sheer number of walkers was overwhelming. Sweat poured down his face, mingling with the grime and blood.
In the flickering firelight, Abel can be seen fighting tooth and nail to survive the walker onslaught. His resolve hardened; he wouldn't die here.
A walker managed to get close, his fetid breath hot against his skin. Abel shoved the shovel's handle into its chest, pushing it back with a grunt. Another walker came from his left, and he swung the blade, decapitating it in one swift motion.
But the walkers were relentless. For every one he killed, two more seemed to take their place. They pressed in from all sides, their moans growing louder and more insistent.
Abel's arms burned with exertion, his movements slowing. The campfire flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to taunt him with their ever-shifting shapes.
A walker grabbed his shoulder, its grip like a vise. Abel spun, smashing the shovel's handle into its head. The walker fell, but not before another latched onto his leg, pulling him down.
He hit the ground hard, and the breath knocked from his lungs. The shovel slipped from his grasp, and panic surged as the walkers closed in. He kicked and struggled, trying to free himself, but their weight was crushing.
"Get off me, you undead bastards!" He shouted, his voice raw with anger.
Through the mass of writhing bodies, he saw Rick and Daryl fighting their way towards him, their faces grim with determination. A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins as he saw them.
Summoning the last of his strength, Abel grabbed a rock from the ground and smashed it into the nearest walker's skull. It fell, but others took its place, their hands clawing, trying to rip him apart.
As darkness edged in, Abel picked up a walker and slammed it into the ground. It crumpled, and under the weight of its own weight, another walker emerged from the darkness and grabbed him. Using his free hand, he puched it a few times before shoving it into the fire. The added fuel covered the surrounding area in an orange glow.
Daryl runs over and throws his knife; it slices through the air before finding a nice home in a walker's eye. It falls into a heap, and Abel quickly grabs it and tightly holds it.
"Thank God you're here." Abel says in between breaths, Daryl nods and runs into camp, killing anything in his path.
Abel looks around to see most of the walkers have been delt with. His legs begin to tremble from the adrenaline leaving his body, but he stays up as he takes in much-needed air into his lungs.
"ABEL!?" Rick shouts, and he looks all around until his eyes land on the young man. He breathes a sigh of relief at seeing him alive.
"You guys showed up a little late, but I'm glad you got here." Abel said towards Daryl, the hunter scoffs as he pulls one of his bolts from a walkers head.
"Ain't that the truth? Count your lucky stars, little man."
Abel turns to see everyone gathered around the RV, tired and drained from the near-death experience. Slowly, he makes his way over to them as a walker shambles towards Amy.
"AMY BEHIND YOU!" He shouts. Everyone turns with their weapons aimed at it, but it's too late. The walker lunges forward and sinks its teeth into her neck, ripping a large piece of flesh with it.
Blood pours out of the wound as she falls to the ground. Abel runs over and tackles the walker before it can bite her again. He slams a rock against its face until it's head caves in. He turns to see Andrea in hysterics as she tries to stop the bleeding and save her sister.
"I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do." She repeats this over and over as she watches Amy slowly drown in her own blood. Amy grips Andrea's wrists tightly; gurgling sounds escape her as she draws her last breath.
"I remember my dream now. Why I dug the holes." Jim says this while looking around at all the dead bodies.
Abel slides over to Andrea and puts his hands on her shoulders to support her. She turns to him with tears streaming down her face before burying her head into his chest. Her muffled cries of anguish echo around the distraught camp.
"I got ya, it's alright." He whispers over and over, trying to ease her pain.