SWEET THORNS IN MY BLOOD ⸻ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝

EIGHT / "A baby's laughter."

CHAPTER EIGHT
A baby's laughter

It might have been hours. It might have been days. It might even have been between the space of one breath and another. Percy could no longer tell. Percy met the newcomers in the train. And they began to prepare for an attack that they had planned. Percy's black hair was disheveled, as though he had been running his hands through it in frustration, his face drawn with exhaustion.

He was focused on a task that was at once familiar and yet completely foreign. His backup dagger was no longer the sleek, well-oiled weapon of his youth. Years of neglect had left it rusted and dull, the grip sticky with dirt and sweat. The tip was chipped, the wood around the cross guard splintered and weathered. It was a far cry from the weapon that had helped him survive countless times in the past.

But now, more than ever, Percy needed it. With the recent loss of his primary weapon, his only option was to fall back on his trusty backup, which had been carefully stuffed into his boot all this time. He had never needed to use it, and it was clear that the neglect had caught up with it.

He began to run the blade of the knife along the rough surface of a rock, the sound of metal on stone filling the train. He was careful not to cut too deep, not wanting to ruin the blade completely. He just needed to knock off the rust and sharpen it enough to make it usable again. The handle was in even worse shape, his hands already raw from gripping it so tightly.

He glanced down at his boots, wondering if there was some fabric he could use to wrap around the handle, something to give him a better grip. His eyes settled on the cuffs of his jeans, worn and tattered from endless hours of travel. He drew the knife across the soft fabric, ripping off a small piece.

He wrapped it around the handle, tightly tying a knot to keep it in place. The fabric was smooth and soft against his skin, a pleasant contrast to the rough blade of the knife.

"All right, got four of them pricks coming our way." Daryl announced, keeping a look out through the small crack of the train.

Rick nodded, ripping a piece of wood off on the wall. "Y'all know what to do." Rick said. "Go for their eyes first, then their throats." The group readied themselves, raising their weapons and fists.

"Put your backs to the walls on either side of the car, now." Gareth's voice was heard from outside the train. Rick and Michonne looked at Percy and Carl who both nodded - they were ready.

As Percy stood near the Shute door, he could hear the dull thud of footsteps above him, echoing throughout the train car. Suddenly, a loud crashing sound caught his attention as something fell heavily in the center of the room. Abraham's voice blared "Move!" as they rushed away from the middle.

Percy stumbled back, his heart racing as he tried to get as far away from the source of the noise as possible. Before he knew it, an explosion rocked the inside of the train car. A thick, contaminated fog quickly filled the room, making it impossible to see or breathe. As Percy struggled to get away from the blast, his sight began to fade and that was the last thing he remembered before passing out.

✧༺♥༻∞

⸻ Percy felt his eyes flutter open as he slowly gained consciousness. He held onto his sharpening rock tightly, his muscles tensed as he narrowed his eyes. "What happened?" As he looked around the train car. Percy noticed that several of companions were missing, causing him to feel a rising sense of panic. "Where are Rick, Daryl, and Glenn?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. He propped himself up on his elbows with a pop, he viewed the people in the car and did a small head count.