[ xlvii. good luck, dumbass ]
august 13th, 2012
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THE SHRILL, INCESSANT BLARE of the horn pierced through Astrid Dixon's consciousness, merging with the thunderous cadence of her own heart racing in her ears. She pushed forward, a primal determination fueling every sinew of her being as she bull-dozed through the dense thicket. Overcoming stumps and evading low-slung branches, she propelled herself with every ounce of strength. Each lash of tree limbs against her burning cheeks and bare arms was a mere afterthought, overridden by the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Fellow Alexandrians raced both alongside and behind her, also desperate to reach safety. They had managed to carve out a lead from the walkers trailing behind. No matter, as long as the horn persisted, the undead would doggedly follow them.
Astrid's focus had locked on Glenn's figure ahead, and she willed herself to match his pace. The slope of the woodsy hill steepened, compelling her to lean forward, her hands occasionally finding purchase in the earth when her legs faltered. Jaw clenched, she launched herself onward, digging her feet into the soil for traction.
Glenn came to a sudden halt in Astrid's path, and she teetered back, only saved from collision by his catching of her. She automatically grasped his shoulders in response, steadying herself as she fought for breath, gathering her bearings while they awaited the others.
"Try again," Glenn directed Rick, who approached behind them.
Rick raised the CB radio to his lips. "Tobin, the horn isn't stopping. Light it up. You hear me?" Silence echoed back, replaced only by static. "Tobin?"
Snarls of walkers filled the air ahead, and Astrid glanced up, spotting two. "Michonne," She alerted, already planning her move. "I'll take the left."
Rick and Glenn proceeded onward while Michonne and Astrid moved to confront the approaching stragglers. Astrid's blade plunged into one walker's eye, the body collapsing as she flung it aside, before turning to see Michonne decapitate the other. A silent nod was exchanged between the two powerful women, and then Astrid spun on her heel and hurried to rejoin the men ahead.
Cries from trailing Alexandrians began to reach Astrid's ears. They were struggling to keep pace. A man named Sturgess's voice rose loudest, fear lacing his words. "Oh, shit! It was half. Jesus, it was more than half!"
Annie, another Alexandrian, attempted to steady the panicked man as they fled. "We just have got stay ahead of them," She gulped. "They walk, we run."
Finally catching up to Rick, the CB strapped to Astrid's waist crackled to life. "Astrid! Answer me, damn it!"
Yanking the CB from her side, Astrid raised it to her lips. "I'm here, Daryl," She responded.
"What the hell's goin' on back there?" He demanded.
"Half of them broke off," She panted. "They're headed straight for Alexandria."
Abraham Ford's intruding voice pierced through another channel. "Are they heading towards you?"
"We ran ahead," Astrid replied, navigating beneath another branch as she now walked alongside Rick again, who listened intently beside her. "There's a loud horn from the east. It won't stop."
Daryl rippled back into the conversation. "I'm goin' to gas it up, turn back."
But before Astrid even could attempt to dissuade her husband down, Rick hurriedly pulled the radio from her grasp. "We've got this," He insisted. "Keep going."
"They're goin' to need our help back home," Daryl protested.
"You've got to keep the herd moving," Rick reminded sternly.
"Not if it's goin' down, we don't!" Daryl's frustration echoed through the receiver.
"If the rest of the herd turns around, the bad back there gets worse," Rick reasoned. He and Astrid both stood tense, their hearts pounding in sync, waiting anxiously for a response that never came. Either Daryl had lost his signal, or he was purposefully ignoring them. Astrid hoped it was the former. If not, she was going to kick his ass the next time she saw him.
But that would not likely be for several more hours. And they needed to keep moving. Rick pushed the silent CB back into Astrid's hands, their focus snapping back to their escape. Her legs screamed with pain as they continued to climb through the woodland, but she fought through it. She had to reach the hill's summit and protect Bailey and the others in Alexandria who very likely needed their help.
Suddenly, a sharp yelp slowed their sprint. Both Astrid and Rick spun around once more to see Annie writhing on the ground, clutching her leg. Glenn hurried to her side and knelt down. "Are you okay?" He asked.
"It's my ankle," Annie gasped. "Shit, it hurts."
Glenn did not hesitate. He pulled one of Annie's arms around his neck and hauled her up, offering support as she leaned heavily against him. "All right, come on," He encouraged. "We do this together. Let's move."
Astrid allowed Glenn and Annie to take the lead, falling back with Michonne to protect the rear. Gripping her knife, she noticed a man slowing his pace—Barnes. His discomfort was palpable. "It's coming from back home," He muttered. "It has to be. Rick did this. He brought us all out here to die."
A frown etched across Astrid's face. "What the hell are you talking about?" She demanded.
Barnes licked his lips. "He killed Carter," He insisted.
"Carter was already dead," She retorted matter-of-factly.
Ignoring her, Barnes continued his tirade. "Now they're in trouble back at home, and we're done for out here. We're good as dead."
Astrid's rage boiled over at the challenge in Rick's leadership. "Listen here," She growled, closing the gap between them, getting right in Barnes' face. "If Rick hadn't acted, we'd be dead already. You saw the semis collapse. That herd would've been on Alexandria without warning. Rick saved us from that." She crossed her arms tightly. "So don't blame him for trying to save your life. He didn't want to, but he did. I sure as hell wouldn't—"
"Astrid!" Michonne intervened sharply, her voice cutting through the Dixon woman's wrath. "Enough." Stern and authoritative, she redirected her focus to Barnes, jabbing a finger toward his chest. "You, shut up and move. Let's go."
Without another word, Michonne pivoted on her heel and strode to where the rest of their group was slowly fading into the shroud of trees. Astrid, her anger still simmering, shot a final, damning glare at Barnes before trailing after the others, paying no heed to whether he followed or not.
Soon catching up with the others, Astrid noted that they had finally paused at the crest of the hill for a moment to regroup. Astrid scanned the area and quickly located Rick and Glenn at the heart of the clearing, deep in discussion about their next move. Brushing sweat from her brow, she approached the duo. "What now?" She prodded.
Rick exhaled heavily and loudly cleared his throat, commanding attention. "All right, listen up," He directed. "Here's the new plan: I go back, get the RV, circle around the woods on Redding. I'll get in front of the herd before it manages to get there. I can lead them away."
"The RV's a mile back," Astrid pointed out. "I'll go with you."
"No," Rick asserted firmly. "You, Michonne, and Glenn need to get the others back."
"I'm not letting you face that alone," Astrid objected. "There are enough capable people here. You need help, and I'm going with you."
Rick hesitated. "What about Bailey?" He challenged. "Don't you want to get home to her?"
"I'm doing this for Bailey," Astrid countered. "I want to get home to her just as much as you want to get back to Carl and Judith. But I won't bring a horde of walkers to our doorstep. You can't do this all on your own. You have to let me help you."
Seeing her stubbornness, her fierceness—her loyalty—Rick relented. There was no argument left to be had. Instead, he pulled Astrid aside and then beckoned Glenn and Michonne closer to join. Lowering his voice, he spoke solemnly, only to their trio. "Listen, if something's in front of you, you kill it. No hiding, no waiting. You keep going."
Michonne nodded in understanding. "All right," She complied. "You focus on your job, and we'll focus on ours. We'll get these people back."
"Thing is, they aren't all going to make it," Rick insisted, his gaze scanning the Alexandrians with a sense of sober assessment.
"Rick—" Michonne began.
He cut her off. "You try to save them, you try," He encouraged. "But if they can't keep up, you keep going. You make sure you get back."
Both Glenn and Michonne's lips pressed into firm lines, silently acquiescing to Rick's orders. But Astrid could still sense their internal conflict—while certainly capable of leaving people behind, they retained a discomfort in it. Both valued the philosophy that everyone deserved a chance, which was a heavy and cruel contrast to Rick and Astrid's own pragmatism. Rick, a man who could easily leave others behind when necessary now, had, perhaps, influenced Astrid more than she realized. After all this time, she felt herself becoming increasingly aligned with a colder mindset; so much so that she inwardly found no qualms nor hesitations in abandoning an Alexandrian for dead, regardless of imminent danger to her own self.
Suddenly, screams erupted from behind, and Astrid immediately recognized Barnes's panicked voice. Turning from her smaller group, she hurried toward the commotion, finding the Alexandrians recoiling in shock. Astrid's eyes fell upon Barnes, overpowered by a lone walker, blood gushing from a fresh bite in his neck. Glenn swiftly dispatched the undead, and knocked the body aside, all the while Barnes continued to writhe in agony as his life ebbed away.
Gasping for air, drowning in his own blood, Michonne raised her blade and ended Barnes' suffering. Silence enveloped the clearing thereafter, the only audible noise being the echo of the horn. Its blare had grown louder, meaning they were closer to Alexandria.
Then, abruptly, the horn ceased, too. The words were now plunged into an entirely eerie silence, and Astrid stiffened. Was the abrupt absence of sound a promise of victory or defeat for their people back at home? The weight of the unknown, of so many lives still left up in the air, crashed dangerously upon her.
"Good," Rick breathed in relief, momentarily breaking her reverie. He knelt beside Barnes's lifeless body, scavenging whatever might aid their survival. The other Alexandrians watched on as Rick claimed Barnes's weapons.
Their reactions—whether rooted in fear or acknowledgment of their own mortality and their potential to also loot a body before it had even grown cold—remained unspoken.
Finally, rising from his crouched position, Rick started. "Astrid, let's go," He ordered.
Without a backward glance to ensure compliance, he then plunged back into the dense trees. Astrid paused for another moment, inhaling deeply to steady herself for the upcoming marathon. Then she embraced both Michonne and Glenn briefly, tightly, all the while shutting her eyes as if to engrave their faces into her memory. After she released them, she finally pivoted on her heel and sprinted into the thick foliage, chasing after Rick's silhouette. Her final exchange with two of her closest friends still echoed in her mind.
"Get back safe."
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ASTRID'S LUNGED BURNED AS if they were engulfed in flames, her heart pounding a relentless rhythm in her chest. Just keep running, she repeated, each stride feeling heavier than the last. The highway pavement seemed to stretch on infinitely beneath her feet, a merciless path under the scorching sun. Beside her, Rick maintained a steady pace, his breaths syncing with his strides. Sweat clung to their bodies like a second skin, their clothes drenched and sticking uncomfortably, adding to the agony of the run.
Glancing momentarily to her left, Astrid could see the strain etched in the lines of Rick's face, hidden beneath the perspiration. They both knew the gravity of their situation. Failure was not an option. The fate of their group relied on their ability to reach the RV, seemingly the very last hope of containing the oncoming horde.
Her thoughts, however, eventually drifted back to Glenn and Michonne. Were they safe? Did they find a secure path back to Alexandria? Had they been forced to leave anyone behind? The unanswered questions gnawed at her, too.
The crackling sound of the CB at her waist broke the slapping of footsteps. Glenn's voice filled the airwaves. "Astrid? Rick?"
"We're here," Astrid confirmed, her voice hoarse from exertion. "Are you alright?"
"We're in a town, five degrees east of the green marker," Glenn reported back. "If you get around on Redding in the next twenty minutes, you should be good. I think that's how far we're ahead of the herd. I'm going to try to set a fire and distract them. If you don't see smoke, they're still coming your way."
"Alright, understood," Astrid replied, her mind still racing.
Suddenly, Rick's warning shattered her concentration. "Astrid, heads up!"
Only a few yards ahead, three walkers gorged on a fresh kill, but their gruesome feast was quickly interrupted. As the undead turned their attention toward the pair, Astrid stashed her CB, and her fingers instead went toward the hilt of her knife. Rick lunged at the first walker, while Astrid evaded another walker's claws. She plunged her knife upward, the blade finding its mark in the creature's head, killing it.
Astrid shoved the decaying corpse away, only to hear a sharp, pained intake of breath. Her heart lurched as she spun around, catching sight of Rick clutching his left hand, blood gushing. Panic flooded through her, anticipating the worst, but Rick attempted to reassure her with a casual wave to a jagged piece of metal embedded in one of the fallen walker's shoulders.
"Cut myself. I'm alright," He insisted, even as he gritted his teeth.
Ignoring his feeble attempt to downplay the severity, Astrid hurried forward and seized the end of his shirt, quickly tearing a strip of cloth away, and exposing a small piece of his abdomen. Rick attempted to retreat, insisting that they had to keep moving, but she held him still. "Stop," She commanded sharply. "This will only take a few seconds."
Taking hold of his hand, Astrid was startled by the intensity of his trembling, a clear sign of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Rick's blood flowed freely, staining his forearm, yet he seemed impervious to the pain. Wrapping the torn fabric loosely around his injured palm, Rick reached around Astrid for his own CB.
"Glenn, are you still there?" He called.
The response was almost instant. "I've got to go now," Glenn replied. "Good luck, dumbass."
Static engulfed the transmission, leaving Rick to exhale heavily. He inspected the makeshift bandage Astrid had just finished tying off. "This will do," He decided. "Let's keep moving."
Astrid nodded in silence and soon followed Rick as they had no choice but to resume their sprint. Gripping her knife tightly against her hip, she felt a renewed sense of energy after the brief breather. Rick, however, still clearly wrestled with his new injury. After only minutes, she could see his bandage was already dripping, already soaking red again.
But they continued to run. And as they did, Astrid longed to reach out to Daryl through the CB. But after his cut-off earlier, she could not even be entirely sure of his whereabouts. Was he still with Abraham and Sasha? Or had he really gone rogue and started back to Alexandria?
Time began to blur. Astrid and Rick's breaths grew ragged, their bodies protesting every step. The Dixon woman felt the strain in her chest, her lungs struggling for air, threatening to give way under the overwhelming stress.
Then, suddenly, the sight of the massive wall they had encountered earlier on the highway that day reemerged, albeit from a different angle. Piles of dead walkers, crushed by their own absent-minded companions, emitted a horrendous stench. Astrid shielded her nose with her shirt as she grew nearer, hurrying alongside the wall's edge, until she finally glimpsed the large, promising RV parked on the other side.
Rick entered the RV first, and Astrid followed suit, collapsing into the passenger's seat. Rick grabbed its set of keys from beneath the driver's seat and ignited the engine. He wasted no time, stomping on the gas pedal, and hurtling them forward in a frantic pursuit of the herd.
Astrid's chest still heaved as she sat, the intake of fresh air causing searing pain. Black spots danced in her vision, forcing her to huddle in on herself and tuck her head between her knees. Her sweat-drenched hair clung to her face in disheveled strands, and she brushed it aside, eventually raising her head to face Rick again.
"How's your hand?" She asked.
His bloody hand clutched the steering wheel tightly, but Astrid could not be sure of the source of his shaking—whether it be from pain or sheer tension. Rick remained silent, his focus fixed ahead, lost in contemplation. Only after she repeated his name again did he tear his gaze away, acknowledging her presence.
"It's fine," He reassured. "Are you okay?"
Astrid nodded, even as her thoughts drifted to their loved ones in Alexandria. "Do you think the others are safe?" She wondered. "Glenn, Michonne, Carl, Bailey . . ."
"I don't know," Rick admitted wearily. "I never wanted this. I just wanted to protect them. Now, I've put everyone in harm's way."
Astrid's eyes bore into the side of his face. "This isn't your fault," She insisted. "The odds have always been against us. You saved Alexandria. Without you, it would have fallen."
"Because of me, people are dead," Rick countered.
"They made their choice. They didn't have to come."
"I just . . . can't stand more loss. We can't lose this place, too."
"We won't," Astrid vowed. "We'll find a way through. We always do."
Silence enveloped them, words failing to actually ease the weight of their situation. Not that Astrid expected that would. As Rick brought the RV to a stop, he gestured for her to act. "Try to contact Glenn."
Astrid grabbed for her CB and held it to her lips. "Glenn," She called into the transmitter. "Rick and I are in position. Have you made it back yet?" Static crackled in response, coiling her stomach into anxious knots. "Glenn?" More static. She turned to Rick, swallowing hard. "He's not responding."
"Try Tobin," He ushered.
Nodding, Astrid pressed another button. "Tobin, are you there?" Her query was met with another unsettling veil of static. Something was wrong. She and Rick had tested these radios before. The absence of a response from both Glenn and Tobin spelled trouble. Dread crept in, her mind racing through possibilities. Either they had turned off their radios, been forced to abandon them, or . . . She could not finish the thought.
Before panic could grip her completely, Astrid attempted one last option. "Daryl?" She called out, grasping for straws—for hope.
Through the hissing static, the engine of a motorcycle reverberated. "I'm here, babe."
Relief flooded her. "Good. The herd is almost here. We'll get them back to you."
Sasha's voice abruptly pierced the airwaves, dripping with sarcasm. "How about that, Daryl? They're coming our way."
Astrid furrowed her brow. "What the hell are you talking about?" She inquired, puzzled by the cryptic exchange.
Abraham's voice interjected next with a dry chuckle. "Your little redneck lover took off," He revealed.
Astrid's heart plummeted. Then her jaw snapped open. She prepared to unleash her sudden wrath, her fury for her husband's stubbornness but was interrupted by the sound of distant gunfire before she could properly begin yelling. The pattering of cold, recognizable shots sent worried shivers down her spine. Quieter now, anger fading to apprehension, she spoke into the CB. "There's gunfire from back home," She informed.
Rick quickly took charge again, speaking over Astrid's shoulder and into the radio. "We've just got to sit with it and hope they can handle it," He instructed. "I think they can. They have to. We keep going forward for them. Can't turn back because we're afraid."
"We ain't afraid," Abraham declared.
"This is for them," Rick empathized. "Going back now before it's done . . . that would be for us. The herd has to be almost here."
Gunfire continued to echo ominously in the distance, each shot making Astrid's blood run colder. She took a breath. "Daryl, wherever you are, just—"
Her next words were lost as the RV door swung open violently behind them, revealing a disheveled blonde man wielding a pistol. Gunshots erupted loudly over Astrid's head, prompting her to drop from her seat instinctively. Meanwhile, Rick sprang into action, hurling himself at the assailant, and taking him to the floor's aisleway.
Without warning, another ragged man burst through the door, equally menacing and deranged. Astrid could not hesitate now. So, she ripped her knife from her hip and leaped back to her feet. She struck wildly, ferociously, the blade tearing through flesh and bone, until the man crumpled against her, his blood drenching the scene—and her.
Amidst the frenzy, another gunshot rang out. Astrid, now straddling the dead man she had all but torn to shreds, turned to witness Rick delivering a decisive, final blow to his attacker's head. In the next breath, with bloody hands extended toward each other, they helped one another back to their feet.
"Are you okay?" She questioned breathlessly.
"Yeah," Rick panted. His hands skimmed over her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"
Shaking her head, Astrid assured him, "I'm fine. But what the hell was that?"
Rick could only shake his head as she went on to examine the blonde man still lying warm at the tips of her boots. Suddenly, she froze. She recognized him. He was one of the Wolves—part of the group that had attacked her and Morgan two weeks ago. Her breath caught in her throat as she confirmed the mark of the group, a large, red 'W' carved into the man's forehead.
"Holy shit," She gasped.
"What?" Rick pressed.
"This man . . . he's part of the Wolves," Astrid informed. "The ones that attacked Morgan and me. He was with them."
Rick bent beside the other dead man, likely searching for the same telltale mark of allegiance—only to discover something, perhaps, even more unsettling. A jar of baby food.
"Is that—" Astrid startled.
"Judith's," Rick finished grimly.
Before they could even truly process the horror and insinuations that grew, a thud outside jolted them both back into defensive action. They were not in the clear yet. Rick grabbed for a rifle that had been tucked in the back room of the RV and then glanced into one of the RV's side mirrors. Astrid followed his widening stare and spotted a group of more Wolves. Followers of the blonde man sneaking toward the partially open door.
"Get back," Rick hissed under his breath.
Astrid barely had a moment to consider protesting that they hid before Rick unleashed a barrage of gunfire into the side of the RV. The deafening blasts, followed by agonizing cries outside, confirmed that Rick's aim had found its mark. From the side mirror, Astrid watched the Wolves collapse in pools of their own blood, each one succumbing to the hail of bullets until Rick's ammo depleted, ending the chaotic fusillade.
Without even a breath between actions, Rick then hastily stepped around Astrid to reclaim the driver's seat. "We're making too much noise. The herd will be here any minute," He said. "We have to get out of here." Still shaking her head to rid the ringing in her ears, Astrid navigated through the bodies at her feet and settled back into the passenger's seat, bracing herself for the RV's roar to life.
But the engine only sputtered, failing to start.
Dread gripped Astrid's throat. "No, no, no . . ."
Rick's own desperation seemed to escalate with each futile attempt to ignite the engine. Astrid's body began to tremble as the snarls of the approaching walkers reached her ears. She spared a terrified glance out the window. The herd was here.
"Rick, we've got to go," Astrid said in a hushed tone, though their efforts to remain silent were useless against the engine's sputtering.
Rick persisted in vain, but it was without luck, without hope. The lumbering herd had already emerged from the trees, inching closer and all but sealing their dire predicament. With rising worry, Astrid realized escape was slipping away, the odds stacked against them—as always.
Astrid began to tug at Rick's arm. "Come on! They're coming!"
But Rick appeared paralyzed, leaving Astrid alone. Rushing towards the RV's side door, she swung it open only to be met by at least a dozen walkers. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she slammed the door shut again. Whirling back to Rick, she ripped his revolver clean from his waistband and aimed at the barrel at the large windshield.
She exhaled a sharp breath. "Cover your eyes."
Astrid pulled the trigger. With three resounding hits, the window shattered. It was as if the gunshots themselves had jolted Rick back to action as he was suddenly already ahead, scaling through the glass onto the hood. Following his lead, Astrid maneuvered under a shard and rolled off the dented hood until she crashed onto the ground beside Rick.
To their right, the walkers had quickened their pace, fixating their attention on the duo. Rick grasped her hand and began pulling her away. "Run!" He urged.
With no other recourse, Astrid obeyed, abandoning the massive herd and RV. She sprinted down the road, her heart racing as she pushed her legs to their limits.
But unbeknownst to her, deep within the overrun RV still lay her abandoned CB radio. And on the other end of that open line, a desperate man awaited the reply he longed for from the woman he loved—but which would never come.
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