There's nothing like a good apocalypse to make your already crappy life even crappier.
Honey Boulevard knows this well.
Admittedly, she's had a much better life than most. She grew up with money in large Manor House. She never had to work for a th...
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• let go, you're doing alright just by living •
We drive for a while. Every pothole sends a spike of pain through my leg. We hit so many that I begin to think Merle's purposely driving into them.
Daryl stays with me in the truck bed. He doesn't say much but I'm grateful for the company.
I didn't even know Georgia had this many trees. There's been a couple turn-offs that take you into small towns but Merle's driven right past them. The small towns were either evacuated or overrun right at the beginning: there'll be nothing left to scavenge.
It's quiet, too. Much quieter than it would have been before the world went to shit. It's quiet enough that, even with the rumble of the over-worked engine, I can hear the birds chirping amongst themselves as we drive past. It's strangely relaxing.
You wouldn't think anything could be relaxing, what with the state of the world being the way it is.
I lean my head back against the glass partition, desperately trying not to wince every time my head slams against it. Potholes were invented for the infliction of pain, I swear.
A sharp turning throws me sideways. I reach out to grab onto the side, attempting to keep myself steady. Fuck, that hurt. Daryl shifts too, but no where near as badly as me. He'd been holding on already when Merle — the prick — decided we were going to take another route. Once we're driving straight again, Daryl moves closer to me.
"Ya alright?" He asks, clenching his jaw, "Merle! What d'ya think ya playin' at?" He receives no reply from the drivers side.
"I'm okay," My shitty attempt at reassurance doesn't go a long way, considering the gasp of pain that leaves my mouth when we hit another pothole, "I'm good."
"Nah, ya ain't." Daryl grinds his teeth together, "Merle! What the fuck d'ya think ya doing?" He slams his hand against the partition to get his brother's attention.
Merle slides the partition's flap open, though he keeps his eyes on the road, "What're ya yellin' about?"
"Hi Mommy!" Bonnie giggles.
After a long inhale, and a short exhale, I force the strain from me voice, "Hey baby."
"What was that?" Daryl snaps, "Coulda ripped her stitches!"
Merle snorts, "Honey-Bee over there's got more in her than that! It was just a little turnin'."
"Man, don't be an asshole." Daryl sneers, "Why'd we change direction anyway?"
"Saw a sign a little ways back." Merle says, "There's a gas station. We're gonna need to top up soon, might as well get it done now."
Really, there's no arguing with that. Although by the look on Daryl's face he's going to give it a go.
