DOOM DAYS 【 carl grimes 】

chapter five

doom days
chapter five

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The six escapees continued, bursting through the neighborhood of Lost Creek as fast as their legs could take them in the dead of night and exhaustion looming over their bodies. By the time they stopped on Canyon Drive, they had journeyed through four areas, totaling nearly a mile and a half.

Riley was the first survivor to nearly collapse from exhaustion, so the group came to a complete halt at the intersection of Canyon Drive and Fenway Drive. Daryl glimpsed down the latter, also huffing and puffing, Wally peeked behind them as he huddled close to the only other men in the group. Taylor and Jessica stayed close to Riley while Maggie lingered the farthest behind, her eyes wide watching their surroundings.

Taylor wiped the sweat off her forehead as she sighed loudly, inhaling a refreshing breath.

All around were cozy houses, most of which were one story tall. Once manicured, the grass on their lawns was wilting rapidly, vines crawled up some of their walls. Most of the trees in view were dying, their branches barely visible, and four red stop signs at the corners of the intersection had graffiti painted on them.

"No one shot at us. I don't think they saw us escaping," Wally presumed. "Must've heard that warehouse shutter slam open and came running to the back while we snuck to the front."

Once Daryl caught his breath, he trudged forward, continuing to bring them north. "We ain't sticking around for them. Come on."

For a while, no one spoke, listening to the airy night and the occasional walker growl as it stumbled from a backyard or alleyway. The whole region gave Riley shivers, the hairs sticking up on the back of his neck, he chose to stick close to his sister. Daryl and Wally had taken the lead as Maggie lingered a bit, Jessica kept stealing glances at the woman who only avoided her gaze.

After a bit, while on Reservoir Road bordering the Lost Creek neighborhood, Daryl spotted a sign to their right for Milan's Bait and Archery, a shop down a slight decline that used to sell lures and other equipment for fishers and hunters.

However, Rick's partner, who wanted to visit the place, forced himself to keep marching. On their right was the Lost Creek Reservoir. The incline was half the height of a power pole, and the deep body of water was in the center. Again, like Milan's Bait and Archery, the group ignored it, needing to move forward.

As questions flooded his mind, Riley sped up his walking and settled by Wally.  "How long were the Martyrs a thing?" he asked quietly

Wally snapped out of his daze-like phase, glanced ahead, and shrugged. "Uh, a while, I think. Harper actually crossed into Ohio from Indiana early this year with some followers."

"'Followers' as in..." Riley furrowed his eyebrows, curiosity growing.

"I'm not sure if she thought about leading a community then. I didn't pry into what wasn't my business when I didn't need to. She, um, had a husband and a seven-year-old daughter, though."

"Are they dead?" he glanced up at Wally's face as his expression sunk

Wally nodded once. "The girl got her clothes snagged at the top of some fence during an escape in Decatur, Indiana. Her dad tried to help her, but... their weight brought the whole damn thing down." he grimaced

"And everyone just watched?" Riley asked disbelief in his tone. He hadn't liked Harper but no one deserved to watch their family die.

Again, the runaway bounced a shoulder. "I wasn't a follower back then, obviously, so I don't know as much as you're wanting me to. Hopefully, I know enough to be useful to your people."