Malevolent. The Walking Dead

[ 039 ] when i'm with you

Joey took the guitar out of the case and sat down with it on one of the seats. The velvet was crunchy under her jeans, and she shifted uncomfortably, resting the guitar on her legs. Staring at the strings, it was like her fingers suddenly didn't work. She only strummed a few out of tune chords and let a heavy breath leave her lips. Sitting down and resting made her realize how tired she was. They had been nonstop, on the go for days, that Joey couldn't remember the last time she had gotten a decent night's rest. Part of her felt like she really couldn't get a good sleep tonight either—the rain on the roof, the looming thought of the Saviors tracking them down. She wasn't sure if any of them from the station were still alive, given the horde that attacked them earlier, but she was still on edge.

Joey woke up suddenly the next morning, slumped down in the seat, her head cocked to the side. She groaned when she moved, rubbing the knot that formed on the back of her neck and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her gun was next to her, just in case she needed it. Her hands were gripped in fists—she must've been dreaming and didn't realize. The static from the radio was coming from outside of the door, and she narrowed her eyes together before grabbing her stuff and making her way out of the theater.

Carl was sitting on the ground, his leg propped up on a few pillows he had taken from the person who had been living here before. The radio was also on the ground, with the pictures of the Saviors they had found scattered on the floor. Her throat went dry when making eye contact with him and the tension was enough to suffocate her. "How's your leg?" she whispered, moving to crouch next to him. He flinched a bit, shrugging.

"I mean—I don't think it's broken, really...guess I just tore something." He avoids looking at her and Joey feels so incredibly guilty she could vomit.

"We can still go back...you don't have to do this with me."

"No—no I want to. I'm fine. Just uh...just need some rest, is all." He rubbed his face and toyed with one of the polaroids. The radio crackled.

"How'd you get it to work?"

Carl looked at her for a brief moment and then glanced at the radio, shrugging. "It was a loose connection. Just needed to fix the antenna." Joey looked down and realized that the photos were all over a map with writing all over it, referencing zones and zone numbers with the photos strategically placed where she assumed the people were located.

"They found our mess from before." He chuckled, and Joey adjusted herself and sat down, legs crossed. She smiled briefly, still looking at him and not the map. "Good." she breathed, awkwardly running a hand through her hair. "This guy...don't know his name yet, but..." Carl reached forward to grab one of the polaroids. "He went AWOL." Carl had circled one of the men in the photo with Negan. He was a tall redhead with an emotionless expression. "I think his name is Darren."

Joey ogled at the photo for a bit. "Maybe Finn got to him."

"Maybe."

Joey ran her thumb over Negan's intimidating figure. "What about him?" Carl sighed and shook his head. "Nothing yet." Joey looked up at him, and they just watched each other for a moment before the radio crackled to life.

"Unit Romeo you are requested at Site Two."

Joey kept her eyes on the photo of Negan and felt sick to her stomach. She had that ringing in her ears again, the one she kept getting whenever she was anxious or thought about what happened a few days prior. They hadn't kept the photos that the Saviors had taken of Bill, Abraham and Glenn, but she didn't need them to see the photos flashing in her mind. It was like she had taken the photo herself, and stored it away in her mind. The way his hand twitched for the last time, as if he was saying goodbye, before Negan finished him off. Joey felt the anger come over her like someone had poured a pail of hot water onto her.