Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Chapter Twelve

The moment your brain processes what came out of James' mouth, Joel is back, you start shoveling everything back into your backpack: your journal, the book you bought with you, the water canteen, everything that found its way out of your bag. As you're frantically wrapping up what's left of your sandwich, it slips out of the paper wrapping and falls to the ground; the top piece of bread tumbles a few feet away from the rest and the one thinly sliced tomato is now covered in dirt and small rocks. At this moment, you couldn't care less, not even giving it a second thought and leaving it there for the birds and animals to have at it. As soon as you have everything in order, you're flying down the rugged path, your legs moving faster than you thought possible. Strands of hair keep finding their way in your mouth and you have put your arms out in front of you to shield your face from the overgrown bushes and trees. On a handful of occasions, you nearly slip on the loose gravel, sending a shock of adrenaline shooting through your veins.

When you get to the barn, Lucky seems to be overwhelmed by your erratic behavior, she softly neighs in suspicion, carefully watching you as you frantically untie her reins from the rotting wood post. The worn leather fumbles under your thumbs, causing you to become slightly frustrated at how slow it was taking. As soon as you mount her, she breaks out into full speed, taking you back toward the main gates without any sort of direction coming from you. The wind is cold on your face, you can feel the tip of your nose become raw due to wind burn. A small group of four guards are very slowly making their way back to the community, presumably coming back from the dam. Lucky rushes past, causing them to turn their heads at you. Where'd she come from, you hear one of them say.

Lucky is still at a sprint as she comes up to the gates. The moment your weight shifts onto one stirrup as you begin to demount her, she hastily slows down, letting you drop to the ground without falling. You're holding onto her reins tightly, you can feel the palm of your hand begin to perspiration as you scan the entrance with tunnel vision, completely ignoring the guards approaching you.

"Can you..." You don't finish your sentence as you hand her off to one of the guards, looking past them into the community. Oh, I guess, okay... you hear them mumble under their breath, their tone sounding seemingly confused, but not entirely put off by your request. Wiping your palms on the bottom of your thin thermal long sleeve, you continue searching for Joel. An intense feeling of anticipation and worry rises in your chest, almost catching you off guard. Would they have taken him to the infirmary? The thought suddenly occurs to you. Whoever called it in said there was one survivor, not specifying what physical state they were in. You come to a dead stop, spinning slowly around in a circle, your eyes shifting from one side to the other as you turn. Joel is nowhere in sight.

In the corner of your eye, you see the door to the guard trailer swing open. Nora is slowly walking out with her head down, distracted by her clipboard; she's scribbling something onto the piece of paper, her face is screwed tight as she concentrates. She definitely knows where he's at, you think, immediately sending your body into action, charging toward her as she turns her back toward you.

"Joel's back?" You grab Nora by her shoulder as soon as you're within an arm's reach, pressing your fingertips firmly into her. She swiftly turns around on one heel looking you up and down with an insulted expression and holding her clipboard in front of her as if it were a shield. Nora doesn't say anything initially, just glaring at you in return. " Where is he? "

"Who said he–" She looks around her, keeping her eyes narrowed and her voice hushed, seemingly not wanting anyone to overhear. Of course they would want to keep this on the downlow , you think.

"Don't fuck with me, Nora," You cut her off, not attempting to keep the volume of your voice down. You're in no the mood to play anyone's childish games today. "I heard James on the radio."