THE END TO AN ERA the walking dead

1. incipience

"So, let's look at five on this row. and if we go down to four on the other row, what number do they have in common?"

"...Twenty?" Carl and Sophia answered.

Ira nodded with the beginnings of a grin, he was proud that something finally made sense. Until...

"But isn't this cheating?" Sophia asked.

"Well, technically no, but also technically yes? Wait no- it's more of a guide than a cheat sheet," Ira stumbled over his words. He could see Dale from a distance trying not to laugh, but eventually saved him by calling him over.

"I'm hoping Carol and Lori don't come for me because I think I just screwed up their kids' academic careers."

Dale smiled. "Oh please, you did great. Math isn't easy, but look," he pointed to the kids helping each figure out the math problems. "They seem to have a handle on it."

A hint of a smile fluttered onto Ira's face. He felt oddly proud that he had accomplished something constructive for the first time in months.

"Thank you, Dale."

"Of course, now come help me with the RV."

-

Amy and Andrea had caught enough fish for everyone to sleep with full stomachs. Some fish had already been cooked, awaiting by the fire for Merle's search party to return. Casual banter was thrown around regarding Dale's habit of winding his watch, and something about Faulkner, but Ira wasn't paying attention.

Ira didn't particularly like fish, but forced himself not to be picky and ate as much of the protein as he could without becoming nauseated. And when he was done, he stared into the fire. He was close enough to feel the sting of the heat against his skin and warmth pool in his eyes. It was so peaceful.

Until Amy's scream reverberated through the air.

Ira shot out of his daze, whipping his head around to see a walker's jaws firmly latched to Amy's forearm like a leech. And there were more coming from everywhere.

Perhaps it was instinctual that Ira became machine-like and calculated in situations like these, being able to formulate a plan while his emotions took a backseat. "Form a circle, weapons facing out! Keep the kids in the middle!"

Those already at the fire pit followed his instructions without hesitation. Some had ran off to help the others around the camp. Ira couldn't help them, but he could help some right here, right now.

Shane fired haphazardly at the walkers emerging from behind a car he was facing while Ira focused his aim carefully, scoping one walker at a time and watching it fall with a hole between its eyes. They couldn't afford to be sloppy and waste ammunition.

"Shane," the younger man grabbed his attention. "Think we can make it to the Winnebago?"

Shane surveyed the RV and the surrounding area in front of him, taking down a walker or two before he nodded in agreement.

"Everyone! Make your way to the RV! Come on!"

Gunshots erupted near them as they tried to maneuver up to the RV. Ira raised his firearm in the sound's direction habitually only to lower it with relief once he realized Rick, Daryl, and the rest who had left in search of Merle had returned. And thankfully at the perfect time.

It soon became quiet again, just like it had that morning. And just as unsettling but now the air had been tinged with death and blood. This was familiar.

A hoarse cry made him crane his head over to see Andrea holding Amy close to her, her sister's blood staining her skin and coloring her tears. He didn't even cause this, and yet guilt - or maybe empathy? - crept into his heart.

His emotions, the human part of him, were back in the driver's seat. Ira's shoulders sagged as he looked around at the carnage: the trampled and blood-stained tents, old and new corpses, and the faces of those still standing. He didn't even know many of these people but still, tears welled up in his eyes at the loss of life.

His heart felt heavy and he knew this was a sight he would not soon forget. He closed his eyes and held in the tears. He didn't know them. He was unworthy to mourn the death of strangers while their families stood numbly beside him.

"Ira, behind you!"

He didn't have time to react when he felt a walker's hands grip his shoulder, leaning in to take a bite. Ira felt his stomach go into his throat and panic spread like ice fractals throughout his being. He turned and grabbed the walker by the neck to keep it's teeth at bay. But Ira hadn't had even a second of time to prepare himself against it. He didn't get to plan or coordinate his feet. And so, with the walker's throat in his grasp, his knee gave out and his head hit the rock.

And the world was dark.