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chapter thirty-six | the welcome party pt. i
THE TEENAGE BOY'S eyebrows furrowed. "Is that what I think it is?" Ethan asked the women standing at his sides, squinting because of the bright morning sun rays.
Andrea and Michonne exchanged glances before Andrea started to walk towards the helicopter crash without a word. Ethan followed the sickly woman, glancing back to Michonne and shrugging when he noticed she was hesitant to follow. They don't have anywhere to be, he thought.
Michonne tugged on the chains attached to her walkers and beckoned them to move forward. The three survivors— and the two pet walkers— made their way through the tall grass field and through a small forest where the helicopter crashed in the middle. Large puffs of smoke erupted from it, no way was it unnoticed by other walkers. Ethan made sure to keep an eye out around them.
After a long and harsh winter, these last few months have been harder. Andrea got sick and has been sick for quite a bit with no sign of recovering from this everlasting flu. How only Andrea got it but not him or Michonne, it was just unlucky for her.
Ethan, now as tall as Andrea after a spurt of puberty, helped her walk as she got into multiple coughing fits on the way and when they made it to the crash, she was out of breath. She panted before suddenly bending over and vomiting on the ground.
Ethan cringed, backing away before she could vomit on him. Michonne came up behind her and rubbed her back, "don't push yourself." She helped Andrea stand up and helped her sit behind a bush to be hidden.
Ethan stepped around the vomit and carefully walked to the crash site just as Michonne chained her walkers to the tree to protect Andrea while they looked around.
The helicopter's tail was far from where the rest of the Heli was. As Ethan approached, he saw the soldier, cut in half, no doubt from the helicopter blade behind the body. Ethan coughed, the smoke and the smell of the dead invading his nostrils. He cringed at the gore in front of him.
It was a black male, now very much dead which was evident from his intestines and liver on the ground between his lower half that was a few feet from his upper body.
Michonne came up, her eyes finding what Ethan stood in front of. He met her eyes, "shit must've sucked," He sighed.
She walked a few steps forward, glancing in the cockpit. Two other soldiers in their seats still but she didn't get a chance to look anywhere else because of the trucks speeding into the clearing.
Michonne turned around, grabbed Ethan's sleeve, and tugged him back to where Andrea was. They both crouched behind some bushes to hide from the strangers. You can't trust anyone these days.
"Any survivors?" Andrea asked.
"Two dead, not sure about the other," The tough woman answered.
The trucks pulled up to a stop on the other side of the crash from them. Ethan heard them open and close their doors before a voice emitted from the noise, "fan out," they ordered.
