GAME OF SURVIVAL ³ ━━━ the walking dead

34 | catch twenty-two

Rick and (two-armed) Aaron had secured these particular spikes in place. Splintering the wood, discarding of them. . . It felt as if she'd be erasing another piece of him, eliminating his legacy one step at a time.

A cough from below. Crisp and intentional, wanting her to hear and notice.

Freya pivoted round with a soft sigh, looking down to see the sullen Enzo with Lori and RJ on either side of him, clutching his hands.

She knew why he was here. She knew what had happened again. But she waited anyway, gave him a moment to string his words together.

"Trudi's throwing mugs at Daryl," Enzo informed her casually. It was almost a twice-daily occurrence, - not always mugs but something - and everyone was becoming more and more unsettled by the hostility.

"Can't Mich-"

"She's with Eugene and Gabriel at the radio tower. Left before sun up."

Freya pinched the bridge of her nose, emitting an exasperated exhale. "That was today?"

Enzo nodded grimly. His red-ringed eyes narrowed slightly. "You should probably go, 'cause I've seen you drink cocoa, and you can't do that without any mugs."

The silence of both Lori and RJ was deafening. Instead of running noses and quivering lips, they stood with hunched shoulders and a brooding glaze pulled over their eyes. Angry, sad, tired and without a single inkling of how to even begin to process those emotions.

The guilt that came from being unable to palliate their woe was insuperable. Freya was a living, breathing fiasco. The last thing her very much depressed children needed right now.

"Could you take them somewhere?" Freya asked the teenager, hating that he was bearing responsibility for a situation that barely even concerned him. "Rosita's? Or Aaron's?"

"Yeah," said Enzo monotonously. If he wanted to put up a protest, he was doing a remarkable job of hiding it. He tightened his hold on the children's hands and led them away.

Freya set her foot on the top step of the ladder and paused. She pushed her overgrown bangs out of her eyes. They were almost reaching her jaw now, and it wasn't the time to ask Trudi for a haircut, so whether she liked it or not - she was growing them out. There was a silver lining to it too; looking at her reflection would now be a little easier.

After scrambling down the ladder, Freya crossed through the community in record time. She could hear the clamour coming from her home the second she turned the corner - shattering ceramic, the squeal of rubber shoes against linoleum as someone swerved out of harm's way, the roar of anguish as another throw was made, voices cursing and hissing.

It was enough to make her want to spin on her heel and resume position on the guard's post.

Alas, she pushed the door open and cupped a hand over her face to prevent any mug shrapnel from penetrating the flesh of her face, she had one too many scars there already.

Sitting on the stairs were Brodie, Judith and Lydia. The former huddled together in the middle, holding hands for comfort whilst the latter sat alone on the top step, arms wrapped around herself and lip between teeth.