𝙘𝙧𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮¹ ━ 𝙩𝙬𝙙

viii.

╔═══*.·:·.★ ✦ ★･:･:*═══╗

The sounds of crickets chirping were barely heard over the guttural need to survive. Sweat trickled down Natasha's face as she swung the hatchet into a walkers skull. Her siblings were in the same position while the family they were travelling with continued to scream, attracting more attention.

Soon, their weapons would not be enough and the Williams family would be wiped out, but just as Sasha was fighting off one of the undead, a bullet flew past her. Turning on her heel, a boy, no older than her little sister had his gun raised looking at them with his sheriff's hat.

"Come on! Hurry!" He begins to stumble back the way he came.

Natasha was the first to run, while she was one of the most mistrusting people to meet, she couldn't risk her family. Her head stayed over her shoulders where she motioned Tyreese and Sasha to get a move on.

Racing down the dark prison corridors, the family the trio arrived with fell behind, the infection quickly beginning to take over the young mother. "Go." Her husband urges, but ever the hero, Tyreese did what he could to help.

"We'll cover you." Sasha decides, holding her shovel in defense while Natasha rolls her eyes. It wasn't that she disliked the family, however, she saw an opening for her family to escape, and for once, they wished they were the selfish kind. Despite this, she raises her hatchet and fights back the dead.

The young boy in the sheriff's hat did what he could to help considering that his makeshift silencer on his pistol would only hold out for so long. "You have to leave her!" Carl orders while Tyreese puts the woman on his shoulders.

"No way." He shakes his head, leaving her to dangle on his shoulders and for Carl to lead the way again.

The youngest of the group leading the way, Carl hands Natasha a small flashlight to carry with her hatchet while he took full control of his gun. The girl's boots stomped on the concrete floor but she couldn't hear it over the sound of her pulse beating harshly in her ears. Before all of this, Natasha used to love running, not the kind you'd have in PE, or the kind where your clothes stick to your skin; the kind where you felt the wind flow through your hair and you were free. Only running from the dead didn't feel the same.

The man's wife called out for her as the two teens burst open the prison door and Tyreese lowers her to the ground. He cries when he reaches her. The true, guttural sobs that he tried to conceal as his wife took her last breaths, it was hard for anyone to watch, especially when they were all this vulnerable.

"I'll take care of it." Carl offers, cocking his gun.

"Woah. Kid, wait a minute." Tyreese stops him, hovering his hand over the nozzle of the boys gun. Carl argues with him.

"She doesn't have that long."

"We can't risk it." Natasha agrees. Sasha pulls a face at this, glaring at the boy who stood beside her sister.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" She asks, still holding her shovel. "Who're you with?"

Carl brushes off her questions, "look, we can help you. First things first." He glances down at the bitten woman, his gun not wavering from her face once.

"We take care of our own," Tyreese says, standing guard of the woman. He snatches his hammer away from the boy next to Sasha and despite the family's protests, he did what needed to be done.

Sasha motions for Nat to come to her side, her dark eyes beginning to fill in tears, but as the young girl rounds the body to her sister, she turns on her heel at the sound of the door slamming.

"What are you doing?" She asks, taking steps towards the door as a blonde girl helps Carl rattle the keys in.

"Kid, did you just lock us in here?" Tyreese asks, stepping away from the body, pulling Natasha back, weary of the boy with the girl.

"Open the door." Sasha orders, waving her shovel.

Carl shakes his head. He didn't look the slightest bit guilty, however, the blonde next to him couldn't bear to look them in the eyes, "this room is secure, you'll be safe. You have food and water."

"Open this door." Sasha begs.

"I can't."

"You really gonna treat us like some barnyard animals?" Natasha snaps, tightening the grip on her hatchet, letting it scratch along the floor as she walks to the gated door.

Upon getting no reply, Sasha bangs her fists, "you can't just leave us in here, open the door!" When Tyreese reaches his siblings, his tender touch was always enough to ground them, being the calmest out of all of them.

"Back away from the door and let the man go." He whispers, pulling them back. "Look around you. It's the best we've had in weeks. His house." He looks behind him back to the grieving family, "we've got other things to do. We don't want any trouble."

Natasha glares at Carl from over Tyreese's shoulder. The first time she met someone her age in this new world, she'd always imagined them to be kind. But she couldn't force herself to be too angry; she knew she would've done the same thing.

|

In Woodbury, at least on the outskirts, Rick lead Glenn, Maggie and Paola back to a safe point. The youngest of the group held Maggie's hand while she helped Glenn, leading them to keep close to Rick.

"Get down." He whispers, setting his bag and Daryl's bow beside him. Careful, Maggie lowered Glenn and Paola huddles closer to Rick, her hand grazing over her friend's crossbow, already making silent promises that the weapon would return to him.

Stick cracked under the weight of someone behind the group and Rick was the first to stand, taking his gun for a confrontation. The woman with the sword arrived bloody and injured. "Where the hell were you?" He asks, holding his gun to her head, Maggie following him.

He orders Michonne around, not allowing her to be reach for her sword before Rick takes it from her. "Get what you came for?"

"Where are the rest of your people?" She asks, her hands still up in the air.

"They got Oscar."

"Daryl's missing. You didn't see him?" Maggie asks, her eyes pleading for an answer from behind her gun. Michonne only shakes her head.

"If anything happens to him-" Rick begins to threaten, but was cut off.

Paola stationed next to Glenn, allowing his to rest against her while her hand rubbed circles in his back, giving him little comfort considering the situation, "Rick, Daryl's strong, he'll come back. Don't blame this on her."

Michonne locked eyes with the girl, offering her a small nod, "I brought you here to save them.

Rick's expression is blank, staring her in the eye, never wavering, "thanks for the help."

"You'll need help. To get them back to the prison. Or to go back in there for Daryl." Her eyes never left his. She wasn't backing down, "either way, you need me."

╚═══*.·:·.★ ✦ ★･:･:*═══╝