Dreams/flashbacks:
There it was again...the pit. The chains, the screaming, the torture...the smell of sulfur and blood. Other people screaming in pain and in agony. Those sounds and those smells were embedded into my mind. I wanted this to be over with. I wanted out of here! "I am here to help..." I heard a voice say. As I looked upward, I saw a bright light and a burning sensation on my shoulders as I was pulled up. I saw everything around me shy away from the light until it pitch black once more...the coffin.
I sat straight up after I had visions of my time in the cage. I had sweat covering my body, breathing heavily from the memories. I could still feel the pain, smell the sulfur, and hear the screams. I looked around to see an IV in my hand, but I was in a bedroom rather than a hospital. I looked to find some food and water sitting on the nightstand. I reached over, quickly might I add, and began to eat with gusto. I took a couple of big swigs of the water that was next to the food before I continued eating. I just got done eating when the door opened. An old man, a guy who looked like a cop, and some guy with a crossbow slung around his shoulders. The old man spoke first, "Ah, you're awake. How are you feeling?" I looked at them surprised and a bit frightened, "Where am I? Who are you?" The guy that looked like a cop spoke up next, "You're in a farmhouse. Do you remember how you got here?" "I remember running from a town to a highway. I slept in one of the cars, but when I woke up I saw these things trying to break through the glass. So I opened the passenger door and ran until...I think I came to a clearing, but everything was blank after that," I tried to recall. "You sprained your ankle pretty badly and were dehydrated," the old man informed me. "Daryl, here, carried you here," the man that looked like a cop said, pointing to the man with a crossbow. I nodded in thanks and I looked at my bandaged ankle, sighing in defeat and annoyance.
The old man looked at me again, "My name is Hershel." Hershel, huh. Well, I have a perfect nickname for him, Hershey. Dean would have probably told me to think of something more creative, but he isn't here at the moment. "Awesome. I'm...I'm Tara Nugent." I said as I came up with a lie for my name. I needed to be careful, especially if this dude was a cop. "Ya said these things...ya talkin' about the walkers?" Daryl asked me. I noticed that everyone was talking in a southern accent, which was weird. "Yeah, the things that want to eat me...what are they?" I asked. "We call them walkers. They are dead, but able to move and they feed off of the living. If you get bit or scratched by one of them, you become one of them," the cop clarified. I started nervously laughing, "Oh...oh that's just wonderful..." "Do you know what happened?" the old man asked and I shook my head, "No. I woke up a couple of days ago...I was in a coma..." I couldn't say, 'Hey, I was dead and came back to life.' "The whole world is gone. No government, no military. There's no water, electricity...no phones," the cop explained. My eyes went wide and it felt like the wind got knocked out of me, "What? There's no phones?" "No. I'm sorry. I woke up from a coma to this too a couple of months ago," the cop informed me. "How am I supposed to find my brothers?" I asked more to myself rather than out loud.
"Where are your brothers?" the old man asked and I shrugged in response, "I don't know. I don't even know where I am." "Ya in Georgia," Daryl answered me. I looked at him quickly, "I'm where?" "Georgia," he replied. I felt lightheaded and I laid my head down, "How am I here? I was in Washington..." "Washington?" the old man asked. I looked at him, "Yes. That's where I was in the coma. How did I end up here?" I asked myself. How did I get here? I died in Washington, not Georgia, so how was I here? My brothers and I have barely set foot in the southern states. "Look, you look like the fluids are helping you. Once this bag is finished, why don't you rinse off. Get some clean clothes on," the old man suggested, sensing I was being overwhelmed. I only nodded and the cop looked at Daryl, "Keep her company for a bit. I need to go handle something." Daryl just scoffed and proceeded to sit down on the floor. The old man and the cop left the room, leaving me with Daryl in a very uncomfortable silence. "So...uh...how's it going?" I asked, breaking the silence with awkwardness. "All dandy, doll. I love babysitting," he replied sarcastically. I looked at him, "Well, that's good. Let me see if I can act more like a baby for you, so it will be authentic." Towards the end of my sentence, I sounded like I had a baby voice and a fake pouty look on my face. He glared at me and I just smiled smugly.
The IV was finally done, so I ripped out the needle from my hand and tried to stand up, only to fall forward. Daryl caught me, "Ya stupid or somethin'? You're dehydrated and have a sprained ankle." I only looked at him and rolled my eyes, "That's not going to stop me." "It just did, doll," he replied. "My name is Am-Tara, not doll," I countered, almost revealing my name. He eyed me suspiciously, but he helped me to the bathroom to wash off. "There's a wash rag and a bucket of water that's been boiled. Use it. I'll get someone to find ya some clothes," he said, leaving me in the bathroom. I looked down at my hand and noticed it was bleeding a bit from me ripping out the needle, so I took care of that first. Next, I took off my clothes and set them down on the floor. I took the rag and placed it in the bucket to wet it. I rung out some of the water before placing it on my skin. I looked at myself in the mirror as I dragged the rag across my skin. I examined every detail of myself...the scars, the handprints, the tattoos, and the thinness of my body. As I was washing myself, a girl came in. I was quick to hide my important parts, "Sorry, I brought you a change of clothes." She sat them down and left quickly.
I washed the dirt and blood from my body and quickly dried off with a towel. I grabbed the clothes they gave me, which was a little small in the chest area, but fit everywhere else. I finished getting dressed and limped out the door. I overheard the girl talking to someone, "Daddy, she has scars all over her and handprints that look like they've been burned into her skin...recently." Crap. I heard the floorboards creak and I looked to see Daryl waiting on me. He came over and helped me back to the room, "'ere, sit down. Your ankle is bad enough as it is." I sat down on the bed, when I heard footsteps come up the stairs and into the room. It was the old man and the cop again. "My daughter tells me you have scars...and some look recent. Why are you lying to us?" the old man asked. I glared, "You're strangers. You really think I'm going to tell you the truth?" "We helped you," the cop pointed out. "I appreciate that, but it still doesn't give me much confidence to tell you the truth," I retorted. "Let me see the scars. Make sure they're healing properly at least," the old man asked. "No! You're not touching them," I yelled. They were taken aback from my outburst. "If all you're going to do is hound me about these scars, I'll leave. I'll take my chances on a sprained ankle and my wits," I continued. "Alright, we'll drop it for now. As long as it doesn't bite us in the ass later," the cop said. "You can stay in here until you're able to walk by yourself, then you're outside with them," the old man said. "When I can walk again, I'm out of here," I stated. They only nodded and left, Daryl leaving with them this time.
I continued to sit on the bed while thinking about how I could leave. I wasn't going to stay here, even if I couldn't walk by myself. I was ready to endure all the pain my ankle would give me, if it meant that I didn't have to answer questions. I made the decision to steal some supplies before leaving. I needed to find a bag or something, so I hobbled around in the room looking for something. There was nothing I could find, but then it hit me, I could take a pillow case. I would have to wait until everyone was asleep before I could execute my plan to escape. I sat back down on the bed and lifted my legs to lay down. My back was propped up on the headboard and I looked out the window. I saw a bunch of land, the forest that I came running out of, and many tents in the front yard of this place. There was one tent that was furthest away from the others, almost as they tried to isolate themselves from everyone.
I was still staring out the window, wishing and hoping that Dean and Sam were alive. I heard a knock on the door and it snapped me out of my thoughts. I noticed it was dark and I could see the stars. The knock came again and I said, "Come in." The door opened to reveal a woman with short gray hair. She seemed timid and shy, "I brought you some dinner." She placed the tray down on the end table next to the bed and a glass of water. "Thank you," I said. She smiled softly and left. She was very soft spoken and seemed almost afraid. I grabbed the tray and ate the meal. This would have been my second meal that I've had since I came out of Hell. I was hoping that I would be with my brothers and Bobby. Us laughing together, talking to each other...being a family. The idea made me start to choke up tears. I wanted my family...comfort from them. I don't know how long I've been dead...how long I've been in Hell. I just wanted my brothers and Bobby.
I pretended to be asleep when someone came for the tray, so no one would talk to me. I laid there for what seemed like hours until I was certain I heard no one. I sat up and took the pillow case off the pillow I had been laying on. I stepped onto the floor, sucking in the hiss of pain I felt, and proceeded to hobble my way. I went to the bathroom first, actually using it, and then searching for anything to take. I found some tweezers, cotton balls, and hydrogen peroxide. I stuffed them into the pillow case before coming to the stairs. I took a deep breath, grabbing ahold of the railing before carefully heading down. I tried to keep the weight off of my injured ankle as much as possible so I wouldn't yelp in pain. I got to the kitchen and saw canned food on the counter. They weren't opened, so I put them in the pillow case. I took a kitchen knife, so I would have at least something to protect myself with. I found some bandages on the coffee table and put those into the case as well. I made my way to the front door and carefully unlocked it. I pushed open the screen door as quietly as I could and hobbled out, letting the doors close quietly.
I hobbled my way to the edge of the forest and sighed. It would be super dark, but I can't stay here. I need to find my brothers and I can't be answering questions; for my own privacy and to protect them from the other world. I'm sure vampires, werewolves, and every other creature still exist and they're not going to stop terrorizing people because there are zombies. I started to take a step forward, when I heard footsteps behind me. I turn slowly and see Daryl, "Where ya think ya goin'?" I sighed, "Damn it. Why are you even awake?" "Answer me," he commanded. "I'm not going to stay here just because I have a sprained ankle," I said. "So, ya gonna steal from us?" he asked, pointing at the pillow case. "Need to survive somehow. Why do you care?" I asked. "I don't, but they don't deserve to be robbed. They helped ya," he pointed out. "I know, but I have family out there and I'm going to find them," I stated firmly. "How do ya know they ain't dead?" he asked. I hobbled in front of him with a stern look on my face, "My brothers and I have faced horrors you wouldn't believe. Just because the dead are alive doesn't mean that they're going to stop us." "Ya sound like me," he softly said. I looked at him confused and he clarified, "My brother was left behind. Everyone tells me he's dead, but I know he ain't." I looked down and he said, "I ain't gonna stop ya, but you should heal and learn how to kill those things before ya go in there blind. I'm sure your brothers won't like ya being dead." I sighed in defeat and relaxed my arms and he motioned me to come back to the house, however, my ankle was really starting to hurt and Daryl had to pick me up and carry me the rest of the way.
We got to the room I was in, being as quiet as possible, and he laid me down. "Let me see the bag. I'll put everything back," he said. I handed him the pillowcase and he took everything back. He came back and handed it to me. I put the case back on the pillow and I looked at him, "Why are you being nice to me?" He looked at me and seemed to be struggling with finding the words to say, "Ya don't know what's happenin' and ya only tryin' to find your brothers...I respect ya." His words caught me by surprise, considering how we weren't getting along earlier. "Thank you," I responded and he only nodded, "Get some rest. The more ya rest the faster you'll get better." I only nodded and laid down. He left afterwards and I rested my head on the pillow. I did something I wasn't sure would work. "Cas? If you can hear me...please come to me," I said in a desperate tone. A tear slid out of my eye as I fell asleep.
In the morning, I heard a sound. I rubbed my eyes and let them adjust to the sunlight and as they did I saw someone I wasn't expecting. "Cas?" "Amelia? How is this possible?" Cas asked. It was Cas...the trenchcoat angel.