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I. 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗔𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲
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ARA RYU HAD NEVER EXPECTED TO FEEL SO ALONE IN THE WORLD. She was surrounded by people, kind people, her sister even, and yet with every second she felt more and more isolated. No matter the amount of friendly and familial reassurance she received, she still felt alone and like a bother.
Her heart clenched at the mere thought of what her life once was. Back before everything went to shit, before everyone started dying and trying to eat the living.
A sigh left her mouth. She rubbed her slender hand down her face sluggishly. She had been tired since it all began, feelings fluctuated from the strength of a hurricane to a gentle, ocean-breeze.
A small hand tugged gently on the sleeve of her purple flannel. Ara looked down to see Carl, the boy having to crane his head up just to see her face. "Can you come play with me?" The small Grimes asked her.
Ara had always been a sucker for kids.
"Sure, as long as you don't tell your ma I let you slack on your work," Ara teased lightly.
Carl nodded his head vigorously and grabbed her clear hand with his freckled.
Feet pounded against the crumbling dirt, blowing small grains of it into the air and clouding the already blurring vision of anyone in the vicinity.
Before Ara could even take one step into the quarry lake, a small wave of clear liquid hit her face. Her dark hair shimmered even more with the added wetness to coat it. A grin slowly built its way into her lips and she slowly reopened her eyes, which she had closed to keep the water from them. Before her, knee deep in the water, was a giggling Carl Grimes. When he noticed her rolling up the legs of her jeans he turned and tried to run, only for a larger wave of water to hit him in the back of his head and neck.
Small waves of water continued to be thrown between the pair, giggles and grins shared as well. Ara caught him and lifted him off the ground. He laughed loudly, loud enough his mother heard from the camp and arrived with a stern face.
"Carl!" The stressed voice of Lori Grimes called from atop the quarry. Despite the obvious sadness and worry that had lingered in her eyes since Shane had told her of her dearly beloved husband's death, a small smile found home on her lips. Out of all the people in the camp, she trusted Ara the most with Carl, the sister she never had, the aunt Carl never had.
The boy wrapped his hand around the woman's, dragging her back to land with a strange amount of strength.
"Mom, mom! Did you see how much water I threw on her!" He bragged to his mother when he reached her.
Lori gently ruffled his dark hair, placing a chaste kiss on his temple straight afterwards. "'Course I did, Carl. It was the biggest wave I've ever seen," the Grimes woman replied warmly before her face turned to mock anger, "But why aren't you doing your work, young man. Get to it."
Carl, for once fine with being told what to do, ran back to where he was sitting beforehand and shook off his drenched hands.
Lori gently took one of the taller woman's hands into her own. "Thanks for making him have fun while I was . . . " Lori trailed off, her hazel eyes shifting to Shane as she said this, a barely there frown on her face.
" . . . Off with Shane," Ara finished. The Grimes turned to her with a shocked and slightly appalled expression. "It's okay to want happiness, Lori. From what you've said about your Rick, it sounds like he'd also want that for you." She squeezed Lori's hand tighter, "And helping out the kids makes me happy as well. Carl's one of the nicest ones I've ever met, which really helps. I'm always okay with watching him, if you want to go be happy with Shane like a lovesick teen."
Lori blushed scarlet and pulled the woman into a hug. "Yeah, well, I think Shane helps. Sometimes. With, y'know ... " she trailed off awkwardly. She gestured to the ring hung upon a chain around her neck. The wedding band her husband had worn before everything happened.
Ara cupped a palm around Lori's arm, using that gentle touch to pull her into a warm embrace. Ara stroked a tanning hand through her friend's hair.
As the two women pulled away from their embrace, Ara forced a smile.
After what she had done, what she had done to those she loved most, she didn't deserve anything good.
●・○・●・○・●
THE SUPPOSED DEATH OF RICK GRIMES had hollowed a hole into his families chests, one so deep it couldn't be filled. Lori had tried her hardest to mend her broken heart in the arms of another, but no matter how much temporary comfort Shane Walsh gave her, he was not, nor would he ever be, her Rick.
Ara, on the other hand, felt as though there had been nothing inside of her chest to begin with. The permanent ache that lingered within her was the only thing that told her otherwise. Aera, no matter how hard she claimed happiness and content with her new life, felt similar. Within the bubble of warmth Aera shared with Amy, a friend and more, her eyes were melancholy.
Just over two months had moulded into what felt like forever, perhaps the ultimate slowness in time was to be Ara Ryu's damnation.
The only things that kept her going were those in her camp. She wasn't good protection like Shane, she wasn't a hunter like the Dixon brothers, but she was something. Perhaps her soft spoken and almost kind words could keep just a small hint of hope within the group. It was unlikely, but Ara was fine with believing otherwise.
Glenn Rhee, a man that was a decade and a half her junior, rested his arm around her willowy shoulders, Aera on his other side, peering around him at her sister. He used the hand that draped around the other side of her body to poke Ara's cheek lightly, "Come on, Ara, perk up. Don't you want to spend my last few minutes here showering me with love?"
His words forced a laugh from within Ara's chest. Her mocha eyes cast downwards as the small, joyous noise fell from her drying lips. Glenn was quick to join her with his own chuckles as he pulled her closer into his side. Aera watched with a kind and polite smile. An outsider on a tender moment she wished to share with her sister, without the presence of the boy Ara adored.
Ara had taken to the man instantly, his sweet, and, admittedly, innocent, personality reminded her of her brother in a way. She liked the comfort the though brought her. Aera found it too close to home, dedicating her time more so to the likes of Amy and Andrea.
The pair finally stopped their laughter, smiles still gracing their lips, "Y'know I do that enough on regular days anyway." Her words rang true, even Glenn acknowledged the truth behind them. During her woodland adventures she would often sneak extra of the sweeter berries to him and the kids. And whenever she ventured far enough into the woods that she would come across an abandoned car or half-packed belongings, Ara would find a way to sneak something good for them. Whether it be the model car she had retrieved ( it was first come first serve, Glenn got it first ) or a chocolate bar for the kids to split, she found a way.
"I'll bring you back something nice," Glenn whispered into her ear before he unwrapped his arm from around her shoulders. He sent her one last fleeting smile before he began walking over to the group he would be going on his run with.
Ara felt worry spike for the people leaving for the infested city of Atlanta. Carl often laughed at her worries, claiming them to be silly and completely unreasonable. Ara disagreed. She couldn't deal with the inevitable guilt she would feel if these people, her people, died because she stopped being cautious.
"You don't need to worry, Ara," Aera's silky smooth voice sounded from beside the woman, making her jump ever so slightly. "They're a good group, a strong one. They'll be fine," she smiled an unusually reassuring grin.
Ara let out a sigh, "I don't know, Aer'. Somethin' feels off. Like something's gonna change."
Ara had never claimed to be clairvoyant in her whole life, but perhaps she should have because her words rung complete truth.
●・○・●・○・●
THE RADIO AT THE CENTRE OF THE CAMP CRACKLED with a broken, contorted sound that almost replicated that of a human speaking. "Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear my voice?" it called out into an almost empty line.
Everyone in the camp stopped what they were doing. Some hoped it was the military calling out to survivors, others wished to save the person on the other end from the world around them, but most hoped it was the members of the camp which had yet to return from their travel into the city. Amy dropped the hefty bundle of firewood she had cradled in her arms and rushed to the radio. Aera followed closely behind, keeping a firm grip upon the blonde's arm. Everyone else in the camp seemed to gravitate towards the small device, Ara included. She stood from the plastic chair which had originated from the back of Dale's RV and shuffled over to the continuously hissing object.
"Hey, hello?" Amy asked urgently, blue eyes drifting frantically over the landscape around her. She rested her spare hand upon Aera's on her arm.
The voice crackled again, "Can you hear my voice?"
Amy and Aera shared a bright, beaming grin. "Yes, I can hear you. You're coming through. Over," she responded.
"If anybody reads, please respond."
Ara rubbed a tired hand over her cheeks. They clearly had not heard Amy, or anyone, responding. Another dent in the ever growing pit of hopelessness. They would never be safe, she believed, they would never be saved.
Aera grabbed the device — rather roughly — from Amy's palm, "Hello, hello? We hear you. Where are you?"
"If anybody hears, please respond."
Aera sighed and looked to Ara who had begun pacing ever so slightly. Ara worried for the state of the world, for how many people could still be alive. Was this small camp of less than three dozen the last of the world? Surely not. It was depressing, however, with how few people they had encountered in the past couple months, it could very well have been true.
"Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. If anybody reads, please respond."
The radio fizzled to a soundless box and Aera cursed loudly, slamming the thing against one palm as if that would solve the issue. She pressed her lips close to the device again, "Do not go into the city. I repeat, do not go into the city. It's overrun."
She received no response. She slammed the thing down and stomped away from the huddled collective, allowing Amy to continue fruitlessly trying to communicate with the person who could not hear her.
When Amy gave up, Dale sent a pleading look to Shane, begging for him to try himself. Shane had used these things often enough before, he was their greatest shot at getting through to the voice on the other end.
Ara watched from her seat with mild interest. She cupped a tanning hand over her eyes to watch them closely. Shane slammed his hatchet into the tree stump they were using as a table for the radio, retrieving it from the table.
"Hello, hello. Is the person who called still on the air?" he asked with a disinterested tone. He paused for a moment, but only empty crackles responded. "This is officer Shane Walsh broadcasting to person unknown. Please respond."
Again, the silence hung heavily over the group's head. Little Carl Grimes shuffled his way over to Ara, taking a seat on the floor at her feet. She ruffled his hair as he fell into a cross legged slouch. "I thought it was him again," Carl said sullenly. He head confided in her just a month prior that he always hoped that the radio would call back with the response of his father's name. No matter how many times Lori told him gently that his father was gone for good or Shane took on that fatherly role, he still prayed for the officer to come looking for them.
Lori watched her son go sadly. She chose to look on a brighter side than the little boy, "There are others. It's not just us." She looked at Shane with a halfhearted smile. She too did wish that her husband would radio in, begging for her and their son to respond. She wished nothing but to apologise for the stupid, ridiculous, pathetic arguments they'd had before he had been shot. She wished to repent for what she had done with Shane in time of emotional vulnerability and despair and loneliness. But Rick Grimes would never say her name again, say that he loved her. He had died alone and unconscious in his hospital bed, leaving Shane to care for his family. Lori did not blame Rick. But she felt as heartbroken as ever.
Ara turned to the small boy again. "It's okay," she whispered, gripping the hand he held up to her tightly, rubbing her thumb over the back of it. "I do the same thing. Your mama does the same. Even Shane does it."
"Really?"
"It's normal," she assured as sweetly and patiently as she could muster with her tiredness and festering worry. "You can always come talk to me or your mum or anyone in this camp, really. We're all here for each other now. We need to be."
He nodded, leaning his body on her leg. Ara smiled down at him, though he could not see. He was so similar to how her own nephew had been, perhaps more fragile, but equally as affectionate and sweet. If Ara saw Lori as a sister, Carl was just as much her family.
She watched his mother walk angrily away from Shane, the man following closely behind. Ara, in an attempt at distracting him, pulled Carl into a stand. "How about," she began. Her perked up, hoping for some fun or distracting entertainment from the woman. He was disappointed by what she continued with, "We go do whatever work your mom's given you. I'll sneak you some extra treats if you do."
Carl grinned brightly, rushing himself over to the the bench where paper was being held down by colourful paperweights. Ara sent one last look over to where Lori and Shane had disappeared. She shook her head with a sigh before strolling slowly over to the boy. She did hope Lori could heal from her grief — and the guilt.
( word count — 2536 )
( republished ) — 06/07/2023