seven
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↳ fraught with peril ↲
TW: SA
(this chapter does not contain any explicit actions or words. only subtle mentions. it is written brief, while still being cannon + accurate to the show/comics. if you would like to skip through this chapter, i will include a summary in the authors note.)
"HELP!" A voice pleaded, the sound carrying throughout the thick forest we ran amongst.
I was beginning to lose count of the days that had passed since seeing the Terminus sign, and starting along the tracks. We were getting closer to the unsure possibility of the shelter— yet still so far out. Every time we came upon another sign, our standing point was circled, a nice reminder of all the railway we had left to cover.
A few nights ago we made shelter not far from the rails, setting up a small but protected camp in the woods. We used this short amount of time to rest, and allow me healing. Today, Michonne said the black and blue bruises under my jaw were fading. The swelling inside of my throat was settling, and I could finally painlessly consume more than just liquid. I pathetically felt like an infant slowly weaning off milk.
I now ran after Carl, who had instantly bolted at the sound of screams when we were checking our snares. It was stupidly foolish of him, but I expected nothing less with his constant bothersome savior complex. No one other than Carl would fail to scope out the area before running to the rescue, like one of his comic characters. Those heroes could get out of any situation. They could save anyone, and nobody had to suffer.
That was most likely why he enjoyed reading them so much. . . because it was nothing like reality. Not this harsh reality, where we were arriving painstakingly late to a devastating scene.
I slowed my pace to catch a breath—still winded easier than usual—and Rick caught up to pull Carl back into concealment behind a tree. If his father hadn't done so, he would have no-doubt run straight into the hoard that had already began closing in on an unnamed man ahead.
The stranger was continually shouting, begging for somebody to save him. It was almost as if he could sense our presence in the woods, but couldn't pick up on how close we were, or how loud he needed to scream, as the walkers formed an inescapable ring around him.
I neared the two, watching as Carl raised his pistol and aimed between the trees. I stopped beside the boy, swiftly guiding his gun down so that it pointed to the ground. His finger left the trigger, eyes snapping up to meet mine.
"You can't," I quietly spoke, hoping that my words would distract him from the terrible scene ahead. "You can't save everyone."
Carls face contorted in frustration. "Why the hell not? Who are you to stop me? We could have at least—"
"We gotta' go." Michonne interrupted from behind.
She grabbed my elbow to guide me away from the few walkers who had decided to find their own feast, unwilling to share with the dozen others. Two had pulled themselves out of the circle, breaking away towards us after hearing Carl and I's dispute. Many others began to follow.
We began to run again, but not back into camp. Our plans of staying any longer had shattered after seeing many dead tangled up in our tripwires, courtesy of the man who had been shouting at the top of his lungs. It had drawn too many walkers in, and this once serene place had turned into a graveyard for the fallen within minutes.
I stayed close to the others, weapon now raised as we sprinted out of harms way, back towards the rails we'd been avoiding. Dead stumbled after us, but their slow corpses were not the real threat. The danger was crouched a few steps ahead of us, gnawing away at a woman's carcass until they smelled us coming.
We could easily outrun the ones behind, but having dead in front of us was fraught with peril. There were very few places to go, when being approached from all angles. No options but ones that included violence and weapons.
I reluctantly twisted around, raising my pistol to the dead trailing behind us. The noise from the weapon wouldn't change much, as I assumed most of the dead had already noticed us at this point.
Click.
Boom.
The barrel was hot, firing off again and again at approaching bodies. They toppled over each-other as I unleashed on them. Carl followed this action after observing my precise aim, joining my side while Michonne and Rick faced the front. The four of us made a small formation, and took on the death attempting to close in.
They failed— they were no match against us.
Once Michonne and Rick had cleared most of the front trail, Carl and I saved the remainder of our bullets and instead followed the adults with the slashing blades.
"Let's go." Rick said, hurrying us up the tracks.
I hopped over the limp body in my path. It was picked clean to the bone, only the face remaining. The woman's eyes remained frozen open. I scrunched my face up at the sight as the wind brought forth the scent of rotten death.
Everyone kept the running pace, forking off onto uphill terrain Michonne pointed us in the direction of. The road we eventually hit wasn't terribly far from the tracks, but it was shielded greatly by a thick line of forestry. The blockade allowed us to finally slow our steps, as only slow and lethargic biters continued for us.
"Thought maybe there would be some houses this way." She said, catching her breath as we walked the empty streets. "Maybe even a store. Theres gotta be food around here somewhere."
Like her pleads had been answered from above, Carl tilted his chin up to motion up ahead. "Look."
My eyes traveled from him, to the road ahead. A small, blue, broken down car was displayed, its trunk wide open, along with the passenger door.
We approached the vehicle swiftly, hoping to take shelter from the passing dead that would catch up in minutes. Michonne brought her katana down on a walker sprawled outside of the driver side, Rick securing the trunk closed. I went to the back door, reaching for the handle and pulling it before Carl rushed to push it closed.
I tilted my head in confusion. He only brought his flannel sleeve up in response, wiping it against the dusty windows to look inside. As he leaned to peer through the glass, a hand slammed against it, a guttural groan coming from inside the vehicle. There was a dead one inside.
"That's why you have to make sure things are clear, first." Carl told me, his voice almost reprimanding in the way it spoke.
I let out a harsh exhale. "The door has to open either way. I can take care of it."
He shook his head. "Move. I'll do it."
"No," I told him harshly. "I said, I got it."
He looked over my shoulder now. "What about the one behind you?"
My heart convulsed in my chest. I reached for my gun, turning swiftly to prepare myself for the approaching dead. But there was nothing behind me, and when I turned back to question Carl, the door was open, and he was dragging out the body he'd put to rest.
"What the hell?" I exclaimed, putting my gun back into the holster strapped around my thigh. "You can't joke around about that!"
Carl finally let go of the walker's legs he'd been holding onto to drag it away from the car, and shrugged, "I wasn't joking around— I was lying. That's different."
"Oh, you," I began, seething as the words came out.
Only, I wasn't able to finish with an insult. Michonne had come around the corner, a smile strewn across her face as she eyed the two of us.
"Candy bar, anyone?"
Before I could even open my mouth, Carl had snatched the snack from her hand with a 'thank you'. I only rolled my eyes at him as we all entered the vehicle. I made extra effort to place my pack between the middle seat so that there was a barricade between us.
Rick unzipped his pack once settling into the drivers seat, and unraveled a rabbit from the cloth he'd been carrying it in since he'd found it in the snares. The thing was small and lacked much meat, but it was clearly the only option for dinner tonight. There was nothing but road and wilderness surrounding us. I doubted we'd be running into any supermarkets any time soon.
He looked to Michonne now. "What do you say we start a fire? Cook this up— then sleep here for the night? We can go back to the railway in the morning."
She agreed, and the two of them exited the car to collect firewood. We'd offered to help, but they thought it best if we stayed in the car. Usually, Carl would protest the idea of sitting back and waiting, but the air was settling into briskness for the evening, and neither of us had any heavy jackets to keep us warm.
This left only him and I in the car. My head was rested against the print the walker had left against the window, eyes scanning the greenery beyond the road for any signs of movement.
Despite earlier, the outside world lay quiet as the color drained from sky, reminding me of used paint water draining into the sink. The only sounds were those of hushed whispers from the trees as their branches swayed back and forth in the current of air.
At least, those had been the only sounds, until Carl took it upon himself to ruin the serenity by unwrapping the candy bar. The packaging was now crinkling and crunching as he pulled the chocolate from it at an annoyingly slow pace.
Everything he did, enraged me. I didn't know how to stop it, but it didn't seem entirely my fault. If he weren't so insufferable and stubborn, perhaps things like his breathing wouldn't bother me anymore.
Carl finally took the treat into his hands. The small thing emitted such a sweet scent, it made my mouth water as I looked to the chocolate.
I pretended not to care about it, but God, was I jealous. I was full of such envy that I had to physically look away from the candy, and accept defeat.
In the reflection, I watched as his hands snapped the bar in half. I didn't think anything of it until he forcefully shoved the piece my way, causing my eyes to unintentionally widen. I wasn't sure if it was out of shock, or if it were desire for the thing.
"Take it." He said plainly.
I hesitated for a moment before reaching for the piece in his hand. I was waiting for the punchline, or the cost of this offer, but none came. When I grasped it, I skeptically turned it over to examine before biting into it.
The damn thing tasted like it had been handcrafted in the abode of the saints.
"Good, right?" He asked.
It surprised me to see him like this. He was being pleasant. He was even sharing, for God's sake. The switch was confusing, and it gave me social whiplash, but I didn't try to ruin it with a snide remark. I would accept this moment, before all hell broke loose again.
"Yeah," I replied. "It's good."
The candy bar was smooth and silky on my tounge, coating my throat in sweetness as I wolfed it down fast enough that I already anticipated the oncoming stomachache.
"Can I ask you something?" Carl broke the thick silence.
I narrowed my eyes. "You'd ask even if I said no."
He didn't fight me on this. He knew it was true.
"Why don't you believe Terminus is out there?" He asked as if he had been eager to know for a while.
It wasn't that I didn't believe it ever existed. I just didn't know if it still did. Or, if finding this promise land was even worth the effort.
"Things like that, can't be real." I said. "If you had something truly good like they claim to, would you welcome everyone with open arms?"
"But they are real. The prison was." This was the first time he was mentioning it without looking to me like I was the reason for the downfall. "We saved people and brought them in."
I pressed my shoulders against the door so that I could fully turn toward him. The back of my head rested on the glass, and I wondered what living in the penitentiary was like. I remembered how personalized their cells were. The bright flowers planted in soil boxes outside. Colorful chalk that had swirled against the pavement in the courtyards, no doubt drawn by the children that had occupied them.
It was once a peaceful place. Only once.
"It's gone now, Carl. Nothing good ever remains."
He shook his head at this. "We're going to find something that does."
His eyes burned a hole into my soul, like a looking straight into a sun. The freckles on his cheeks scattered his skin, similar the stars that appeared each night in the sky, when the air laid quiet and nobody dared to say a word.
He was the light that illuminated all spaces on this Earth.
I always thought my iteration in the sky would be the moon. Now that I thought about it, it made perfect sense when comparing myself to Carl. When him and I crossed paths, an eclipse occurred. This odd phenomenon of us caused dusk in mid-day, birds still echoing their tunes at twilight as the moon engulfed the soft glow of the sun.
Nothing was how it was supposed to be. Everything was thrown off-kilter when we neared one another.
Caught in an endless cycle, the light and darkness would only ever overtake the other. They weren't meant to be up above, in the same sky. For all one knows, Carl and I may not have been meant to dwell below the same stars, either.
"Maybe." I whispered, lost in the universe of my own head. The only thing keeping me grounded, was gravity itself.
"I'll show you." Carl stated, his voice even and calm. "I'll prove you wrong."
▬ ▬ ▬
I placed a hand to the front of me, warm heat from the glowing fire tingling at my skin. I sat against the bumper of the car we'd decided to spend the night in, goosebumps still fighting to surface my arms.
With my other hand, I picked away at a piece of game, not allowing myself to dwell on the fact that it was a rabbit. The meat was lean and unfulfilling, but it was better than having nothing at all to hold us over. There was always something worse I could be eating, so I didn't complain.
The fire crackled as Carl recounted a baseball game from his early childhood. His father was listening, a soft chuckle coming from him as Carl described how he'd caught a ball that flew into the stands. It seemed to be such a fond memory of his, as his eyes had never looked so bright. It could have only been the way the flames danced in his pupils, but it seemed to surpass mere reflection.
"I'm telling you," He turned to look me in the eyes. "It was coming right at me!"
A subtle grin played at the corners of my mouth. "Are you sure your dad didn't help?"
He hungrily consumed the last of his meat, flinging the bone into the fire when it was completely bare.
"Yeah, I got it signed and everything. There's a picture of it, but It got left behind."
I harbored a deep longing to grow up like he did. Even though our childhood was cut short and wouldn't return, I wished that I could've experienced instances where I was able to relish in my becoming, instead of drown.
The closest memory I had to that, was the few times my mother would pack my sister and I into the car, driving around four hours, from Atlanta to Tybee Island with us. On the way, we would stop at a gas station. She'd get us each a corn dog, and lemonade for the remainder of the ride to stop our antsy squirming.
She only ever took us away if there were problems she didn't want to face. We were too young to see it then, but I understood now. It wasn't just an escape for us.
Those were the cherished moments of my youth. Days spent at the beach, hands sifting through sand to collect shells, laughter resonating in my bones as us three splashed around. At night, reclining in our seats, she'd open the moonroof to gaze at the stars. Sleep came easy with the coaxing rhythm of the ocean.
She claimed motels weren't as vacation-y as sleeping in the car. Over the years, I slowly began to understand that this wasn't truly the case. She didn't have money to spare. He heavily controlled it all, leaving no spending freedom.
She would whisper declarations of love to both Allie and I as we drifted into a slumber, peppering our foreheads with soft kisses and playing with strands of my dark hair.
And after she was gone, I often found myself wishing that the love she held for us had kept her alive, but at the end of the day, it was only an overused word.
"Cyn, Carl? Why don't you both head to the car, It's gettin' late." Rick suggested.
Without needing to be told twice, we tiredly struggled to lift ourselves from the ground and shuffled toward the car. Carl went to the passenger seat, while I splayed across the back, only taking roughly one space as I curled up.
When my eyes came to a close, I thought of those trips with my mother. Close enough to the water, the stereo softly lulled us to sleep with the sounds of crashing waves filling any empty space between the chorus. Now, it was dead-quiet. My mother's absence from the drivers seat felt like a growing void. I occupied my sister's usual spot, and Carl laid in mine.
Everything was amiss.
Through the minutes, my muscles lost their terrible tension. These seats were one of the most comfortable places I'd laid in days. I could feel the unwinding of my constant apprehension, yet, I couldn't quite allow it to unravel enough to accept sleep,
My eyes fluttered as I blinked through the darkness, and looked to the boy. His hat was covered over his face, but I could tell he was asleep by the evened rise and fall of his chest.
I wondered what he dreamed about. Were his dreams just as angry as he was—or did he find solace when he slipped into oblivion?
The fire in front of the car had burnt out, the last ember sparks delicately floating into the air, breeze turning it to nothing but ash. It now was too dark to see anything happening outside of the car, but I could hear the quieted laughter of Michonne and Rick.
I finally closed my eyes. For a long while, I thought about what tomorrow would bring. If we would wake up early enough to arrive at Terminus before sunset, or if we'd have to spend a couple more days like voyagers looking for lost treasure.
A violent hand came wracking against Carls window. It sent my heart falling through my legs, body jolting greatly at the sudden loud impact. I thought it was simply a walker Michonne and Rick hadn't noticed, but Carl, who was now awake and looking past the glass, breathed as if something worse lay behind it.
I squinted past him. A man stood on the other side, showing his glinting knife to Carl. As he dragged the sharp object along the glass, I recognized it to be the exact knife I'd dropped in the bathroom. My damn knife. He was holding it like it belonged to him.
He smiled at Carl, still not noticing me in the shadows. My eyes—now adjusted to the dark—flicked past the dash. A gang of men circled the two.
There were weapons pointed at their heads.
"Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night." The tallest one exclaimed, happily.
I could hear everything through the cracked windshield. I connected the dots between the man that had my knife, and the familiar projection of another's voice. This was the group that had taken over our shelter. From everything I'd heard, they were nothing short of violent.
They didn't seem to have any burden on their chests. These were the most dangerous survivors.
"Joe!" Another pair of footsteps came passed the car, along with the words, "Hold up."
I didn't recognize this new voice. He sounded different than the others. Almost. . .worried.
I kept my body low, only getting a momentary glance at the person. He wore a leather riding jacket with angel wings sewn on the back. Hair of deep brown reached his shoulders, scraggly and unkempt. From his appearance, he should have fit right in with them.
However, when he began lowly talking, the others looked at him like he'd never belonged with them. While exchanging words, the group didn't address the adults knelt helplessly on the ground. The men's words were projected in a hushed manner; one I couldn't decider.
The angel man dropped his crossbow. I silently screamed for him to take it back into his arms, but he only surrendered himself to his group mates.
"See, now that right there, is a lie." The presumed leader replied to whatever angel man had said. "It's a lie!"
I looked to Carl. He was watching this all go down with wide eyes.
A couple of the others came onto this surrendering man. It was not forgiving at all.
The passenger door then opened, and Carl was torn from his seat. He shouted out as he was grabbed, and brought towards the others in a headlock. My knife was pressed against his throat. I felt entirely responsible, as my family name was etched into the handle of the weapon being wielded against him.
They threw punches at the angel's gut, grabbing his vest and throwing him against the car. It shook the vehicle, and I was forced to watch the blood from his nose smear against the drivers window as.
I flinched at the beaten man, just as one of the attackers finally noticed me. He halted the punishing momentarily to squint past the tint of the glass.
"Well, look at that." He smiled. "It's a girl."
The bloodied stranger was tossed away, onto the ground. My door was instantly opened. I tried to bring myself further into the seat across from me, ultimately failing as my limbs were grabbed. My thrashing came to a stop as I was pushed onto the concrete road, chin meeting the ground harshly. It was so dizzying that I thought I might vomit right there.
"Claimed!" The one who was pinning me against the ground shouted to the others.
The other man groaned in resign. He'd obviously been beaten to the statement, whatever it meant. "She's got fight—but she's a pretty little thing."
I suddenly began to realize the meaning of the word.
"You leave them be!" Rick shouted.
They didn't listen. The man who leaned onto me lifted my jaw to cover my muffled shouts, shushing me softly to comply with whatever his goal was. I didn't want to know. I desperately tried to lose awareness of my own body.
"Listen!" Rick begged. "It was me who killed your friend, just me."
Thats what this was about. The man in the bathroom, who I'd brutally put an end to. My heart felt desperately heavy knowing Rick was lying to protect me. He was willing to be put down because of an act I solely committed.
"See? Now, that's right. That's not some damn lie." The leader said.
Even Rick couldn't save me from this. I was alone. Nothing to stop the man whose hands ran along me, caressing my skin as if I belonged to him. It didn't seem like killing me was on his agenda. . . which meant something much worse was.
Anger ate at my insides. I should have felt afraid, but I refused the emotion. Instead, a rage so guttural and deep filled me. I wanted to cut off every individual finger off his that had touched me. To see him splattered everywhere against this road, and to watch the light leave his eyes.
"You fucking sick bastard!" I sobbed in a jarbled mumble, stray tears falling down my reddened cheeks.
His hands wrapped around my neck, his mouth now near my ears. "What are you going to do about it, sweetheart?"
"Stop." I begged, for what felt like the first time in my life. "Please, please just stop!"
He only laughed at me, not putting too much attention on the gun he had set down beside me. I struggled to reach my hand out for it, but my fingertips only grazed against the handle.
An extremely loud gunshot rang through the air. The man above me froze, and stared to the group of others. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see what he was looking at. That bullet had either been put into Carl, Michonne, or Rick's brain.
I prayed to be second on the list.
Then came a second gunshot, and soon after, the sound of flesh tearing. I opened my eyes as the 'claiming' man disregarded me and stood. This finally gave me the chance to reach further for the automatic gun, and grasp onto it.
I no longer cared if death was what followed. I was fine with this being my last action—as long as I completed it.
I rolled to my back and stood, firing into his chest. The fluid in which splattered from the bullet caused such a satisfying feeling within to bubble beneath my skin. He was instantly dead—regardless—my finger fell to the trigger again. Over, and over. Shell casings tinked onto the road near my feet.
I lowered the gun. The air was painfully silent. Either that, or I had just blown my eardrums out. I swiveled my head to the side, registering that all his other group members had ended with the same exact fate. They were all dead.
I brought a trembling hand to my face, wiping at the mixture of blood and tears on my cheeks. I thought after pulling the trigger, the rage would simmer down. But it was only growing. Expanding inside of me, pounding for a release. I couldn't think, or speak, or calm myself. It was a blood curdling infestation.
"You ok, kid?" The man who I hadn't met, whispered at me.
I grit my teeth, looking to the long and empty road ahead of me. "I need to go shoot more things."
With this statement, I gripped the gun tighter again. I glanced only once more at the massacre before my legs took me far from the site. I thought I heard my name being called out, but I couldn't stop. There was not an option to let myself slow, because if I did, I might not have ever started back up again. I would drop and nothing would ever lift me. Roots would wrap around my limbs and drag me into the soil, and I would be nothing but carrion for birds to peck at.
A pair of footsteps followed close with my movements. I didn't register them until I was far enough away that if I screamed, they wouldn't hear. I finally took a second to turn my head, and look at the figure tracking just behind me.
Angel man.
"Why are you following me?" I spoke, unintentionally letting the words come out harsh.
He raised his loaded crossbow out, ahead of us.
"Ain't gonna' let you go alone."
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
4,761 words.
Summary for those who chose not to read this chapter: In a forest, Carl and Cyn encounter a man surrounded by walkers. Carl wants to save him, but reality is harsh. They leave behind the fallen man. They find an abandoned vehicle on the road and the banter/fighting between them runs HEAVY. The claimers attack at night, pulling Carl and Cyn out of the cars. When their small group is able to overpower and put an end to the claimers, Cyn goes off to release her anger, and newly introduced Daryl follows her into the night woods to back her up.
on the topic of SA, I wanted to use this platform to bring to your attention that there over 433,000 victims (statistically) that are recorded ranging from ages 12 and up ANNUALLY. Do you know that this means every 73 seconds, someone is being added to the count?
resources in case you need them:
• National Sexual Assault Hotline 1-800-656-HOPE(4673)
• 998 - suicide and crisis lifeline
This chapter was heavy, and I apologize. I aimed to be as brief as I could be with any triggering description, but wanted to remain cannon with the comics and show. (if you didn't know, the comics depicted the scene very similar to how I described it in this chapter). sadly, these events take place in real life and it's important to be to be mindful and aware of the reality we sometimes forget. if you've gone through something similar, know that you aren't alone. I love you all and I'm wishing you the absolute best.
THE VIOLENT ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER WAS IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM AN ENCOURAGEMENT OF BRUTALITY, AGAINST EVEN THE WORST OF PEOPLE.
sincerely yours,
nika.