HEART OF GLASS¹ ━━ the walking dead ✓

[ 037 ] far from home

"No, no, no." Merle continued, in that agitating, grating voice. "Not today. No more hiding ─"

It happened instantly.

Theo hadn't even seen her move. Reduced to a blur amongst nature, Michonne raced through the foliage.

Her first victim was the guy in the white t-shirt, wearing a bandana that wrapped around his forehead. Michonne sliced her katana through the air, and suddenly this guy's head was rolling across the forest floor, completely severed from his body. The blue bandana warped into a sickly shade of crimson.

He was dead before he hit the floor . . . both parts of him.

You know, Theo would have been more than happy to remain hidden amongst the bushes and brambles while Merle and his goons wandered aimlessly through the forest, but Michonne had other ideas.

As usual.

He couldn't leave her hanging. Theo peered around the tree, nocking an arrow into his bow. An Asian man amongst Merle's search-party was aiming his gun at Michonne's head, lip drawn between his teeth in concentration as he attempted to get the best possible angle, finger itching closer to the trigger. Without hesitation, Theo drew back the bow-string and released. He watched with satisfaction as his arrow soared through the air and pierced the man's thigh. He stumbled to the ground, roaring in agony. Michonne silenced him.

Then, she ran into the wood ─ unpredictable as always. Theo was swift to follow.

Still trying to succeed in his mission, Merle's last-resort bullets ricocheted into the dawn. Every shot missed, and the trees became victims to the man's anger instead, bark splintering and bursting into the air, warping into deadly plumes of sharpened timber. Theo attempted to shield his face as a bullet ploughed into the tree on his left, but to no avail. A small splinter of wood managed to nick the skin on his cheek. He hissed between his teeth and pressed his hand against the small, stinging wound. He brought his fingertips away speckled with his blood. Nothing substantial. At least it wasn't his eye.

However, he wasn't the only one injured.

Theo glanced at Michonne as they simultaneously dodged Merle's bullets, only to see she hadn't been as successful as he had. She was limping, hand pressed against the top of her thigh.

The crater of frayed denim in her jeans became apparent. Then, Theo saw the line of blood trickling from it, sticking to her fingers.

Michonne had been shot.

✧.｡. *.

Marley was folding clothes in her and Sage's shared cell when Glenn came to see her.

He drew back the curtain, a smile pressed to his lips ─ more forced than natural ─ as he shuffled inside. Marley mirrored the gesture ─ more forced than natural, too. She placed the newly-folded shirt on top of the pile of organised clothes and began folding the next one: a pair of jeans Sage had owned since the very beginning. Since the day of the Outbreak. Every inch of the denim was covered in splatters of dried blood and speckles of dirt that Carol hadn't been able to remove, no matter how hard she scrubbed, but Sage refused to part with them. Their mother bought Sage the jeans on her eleventh birthday, as a gift ─ that had to have had something to do with it. And Marley understood.

Glenn began helping Marley to fold the clothes. She had volunteered to fold everybody else's, too. It was a distraction method, so she wouldn't have to continue pacing that goddamned cell-block, rolling in the memories of a place without T-Dog, Carol and Lori. She couldn't do it. She couldn't sit on those steps all day, looking around the barren interior, knowing she would never see their faces again.