{Revised 1/11/2026}
Lee
The laps in quiet made the roar of the shotgun all the more audible as smoke left its barrel, and in its devastating wake was the headless, stumbling body of the offender, his gushing neck and twisted gurgles filling the air his head once occupied.
My stomach turned at the sight, and a gag was on the crest of pushing through, but I bit my tongue and held on, desperate to keep myself together, for my own sanity's sake.
I blinked a few times before letting out a weary sigh, its tired form far too telling for my liking; however, I wouldn't be allowed to revel in that feeling for long, as moments after the shell was fired, the brush around me began to rustle.
It went on for a few more moments before anything happened.
All at once, everything went quiet, setting me on edge.
Reaching down with slow, cautious movements, I gently snagged the key from the ground before preparing to bolt; the thought of which already had my leg aching in pain, the adrenaline from the situation a second ago having run its course.
The anticipation reached its end when another one of those lifeless husks stumbled out of the brush, groaning and growling with pale, glazed eyes, and a jaw that hung free from its socket.
I didn't bother to stick around after that, as I had a pretty good idea of where the rest of that noise came from.
With less than enthusiastic speed, I limped through the winding forest, its trees and roots seemingly trying their damndest to make me stumble.
Not long after, my breathing became ragged, and my legs began to tire. The wounds on my wrists and leg ached, if not becoming something akin to stabbing, as they screamed at me to get off my feet and to let them rest.
My thoughts were knocked loose as a stray stone caught my ankle, making me groan in pain as I fought with my battered leg to keep upright; however, the fight was lost, and I was sent to the ground with a painful thud, the hoards of groaning now basically nipping on my heels.
'Fuck,' I thought, my gaze having gone back to the ever-growing crowd of stumbling cadavers as they fought their way over the tree roots and around their sources in seemingly mindless attempts to get at me.
'Was this it? Was this how I died? Killed by rotting and lifeless faces?' I questioned, my breathing becoming ragged.
The faint sound of a stone smacking its counterpart drew my focus for a brief second. And though it was an insignificant and hopeless curiosity, it showed me my guardian angel, its form taking up the mantle as an equally ragged white fence not far from my downed position.
With haste and renewed hope, my eyes wide with determination, I gnashed my teeth and hoisted myself up, the pain in my leg and wrists being overpowered by the will to survive; however, even so, my body was still mortal, and was still susceptible to pain, regardless of whether I could feel it or not, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when my injured leg spasmed as if tased.
I stumbled while groaning in effort, but I managed to get to the fence, its tall and imposing form built thick with lumber.
Without much care, I threw the shotgun up and over, listening with trepidation as it hit solid ground; I was in no mood or condition to be climbing over a fence to fall in a pool.
I glanced back, noticing the small crowd of things just tumoring out of the forest, as if they had spawned from the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean; their ghostly pale skin being trimmed brown and black at random points across their bodies, making it easy to point out the decay setting in.
With little time left, I braced myself for the spike in pain I'd be feeling when I pulled myself up, an action that needed to be aided by both hands and legs to be even remotely possible on the fence's smooth surface.
"Well, here goes nothing," I whispered to myself before taking a small leap to get my hands over the cusp of the fence's edge.
Immediately, pain bolted through my arms as the weight of my body strained the open wounds around my wrists; blood trickled down my dangling form as it coated my arms in thin streams of red, treating my darkened skin as an open canvas to be painted on.
I paid little heed to that as my legs re-braced themselves on the fence before they pushed up with an excusatory amount of force that sent me over the cusp and onto my back, which was suddenly very familiar with the shotgun I had thrown over earlier.
With a grunt, I rolled over onto my stomach before just lying there and taking a moment to just feel.
My mind wandered as the pain of today started to set in, and I was finally allowed to breathe, even if those breaths were painfully shallow.
'New home, my ass; maybe this is purgatory, and I actually went through with my suicide back then...'
I shook my head in denial.
'No, this seems too tame to be hell, and it's lacking the fire stigma to boot.'
I groaned as my free and scabbing hand came up to my eyes before falling over them, encompassing me in darkness and reminding me that I still had to clean my wounds with some kind of disinfectant, or at least a bottle of alcohol; whether I drink said bottle or not remains to be seen.
With a sigh, I lifted my palm, welcoming the dimming sunlight as its form tilted past the peak of its arc and began its descent around the other side of the globe, its place slowly being taken by the moon, which you could see inching over the horizon by the hour.
My thoughts were cut short when my leg spasmed, sending me into a fit of silent curses as I slightly curled around the wound.
After a few more moments, the spasm passed, with its final goodbye being the stabbing pain it left to linger after its departure.
With an exhausted sigh, I propped myself up before moving to get up, a task I suddenly found more difficult and excruciating than it was the first time.
But, I got to it nonetheless, leaving me groaning in a standstill as I debated whether grabbing the empty gun was worth the back pain; it was.
Without a pained effort, the gun that had imprinted itself on my back was sitting in my grasp, acting more like a crutch than a gun as I leaned on its barrel; I didn't want it to be filled with dirt, as I was sure more shells could be found for it eventually, not to mention the other two I still had in the thing.
It was stupid that I wasn't putting on the safety, but I'd honestly rather have my arm blown off than to try to reach down to do that; the same could be said for lifting it as well.
I didn't take too much time to stand and lollygag as I keyed the remaining cuff on my wrist, letting it fall into the slightly overgrown grass, and freeing the other wound from its metallic prison.
After a moment, I started walking, specifically towards the sliding glass door. But when I got about halfway, a strange sensation of being watched rolled over me, and I was left with the chills.
Stopping, I spun my head to the sides, looking for whatever this sensation originated from. And what did I find for my worries? A pair of Hazel orbs peering down at me from the tree-house. They were small, uncertain, and full of fear; yet they held what looked to be a minuscule amount of hope.
'A child?' I thought as I waved, awkwardly.
The eyes immediately widened before zipping back into the tree-house, fright tangible.
I walked toward the house built into the canopy, my voice ringing with trying reassurance.
"Uh, hey there." I waved.
There was no response; understandable, really: I was a stranger who just hoped her fence, so she had every right to be at least a little afraid.
I thought of trying another question, but I quickly thought better of it when I remembered they were just a kid; there was no need to put them under scrutiny, even if it regarded the current situation.
Sighing, I turned and made my way back to the original goal, the house, and hopefully some news; I was deathly curious and terrified as to why the dead were up and walking around.
When I reached the door, I froze, gunshots ringing out in the distance, followed closely by harrowing screams that went silent after a few seconds. I glanced over, toward the sounds echoing; it couldn't have been far to be that loud.
With an involuntary shiver, I shook my head before sliding the glass door open. I nearly gagged when I did, as the smell of rot and decay sank its teeth into me.
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Clementine
I was having second thoughts.
Doubts ran through my mind as I watched the stranger struggle up and over the fence, his own form falling on top of the stick he through over before hand; I winced when he landed on it.
But even then, I didn't flinch nearly as hard as when I saw his leg, its form caked in blood, old and new as he groaned on the grass.
A small part of me wanted to go down there, to see if he was okay or to see if I could help, but a past encounter had me hesitant; scared of what he might try to do; said event wasn't even that far back, it was just yesterday.
I had gone down there to help someone, a woman.
She had been pale, even from a distance, but I hadn't really cared about that. I had just seen she was bleeding, and went to help; that was a mistake.
When I had gotten to the gate leading from the back yard to the driveway, I had tried to catch the woman's attention, a plastic first aid case sitting in my left hand; mom had always made sure to have me keep one up there, and had went into extensive lessons on how to use it just in case there was no one else around when I got hurt.
I hadn't really learned anything beyond wrapping and cleaning, though, so any really deep cuts were out of my league.
Eventually, I had caught the woman's attention, leading to her stumbling over to me, her hair covering her face in such a way that I hadn't noticed anything wrong before it had been to late.
I had been somewhat excited then, so I had left the gates' safety and set out to meet her halfway with shyness painting my every step, but that was when things went wrong.
As soon as I got into arm's reach of her, the pale lady lunged, her cold hands swiftly grabbing hold of my shoulders as I shrieked in terror. My mind could only buffer in disbelief and fear as the woman's mouth encircled my arm.
But with that buffer came an instinct, one I had never felt before.
In mere moments, my once hazel skin had lit up in color, swiftly dying my arm in the same emerald hue that Mr. Butterfly was painted in.
It was ghostly, almost transparent, but it was rapid, coating my entire arm in an instant with an ethereal green; it was like a viper painted in hexagons, and when the lady's mouth clicked against it, it struck just as fast as one.
Red is all I saw as my fearful form scrambled away in panic; I didn't care how, I didn't care why, I just ran back, the gate begrudgingly fighting me when I had fought it to close once more; I ran back to my safe haven after that, a new trauma doting a whole in my head: it was made all the more worse when I realized Mr. Butterfly had vanished, leaving me truly alone.
I had watched in horror an hour later as the lady got up from her downed position on the sidewalk, her pale visage now lacking a jaw as she walked away. I had vomited in the corner furthest away from me.
My thoughts were interrupted when the stranger groaned, his voice whispering under itself as he painfully stood, the metal stick now at his side as he leaned on it to walk.
He had walked about halfway to the back door when it happened; he stopped. Side to side he looked, but it was a mystery as to what he was looking for, that was, until his eyes suddenly whipped around to meet mine.
We both froze for a moment, unsure of what to do; he did not have that issue, as he waved.
I jolted back to the wall behind me, unwilling to be so exposed again. But that didn't stop the stranger's approach, nor did it cull the olive branch he extended when he spoke.
"Uh, hey there."
His voice was rough, but gentle: it felt comfortable, in a weird way, but still, I withheld looking again, still afraid that he was just like that lady in the street yesterday.
The fear of the memory nipped at my heel as I began to shake, reaffirming my lack of desire to see the stranger again.
After a moment longer, there was a faint but notable sigh from the stranger, but he didn't say anything further, leaving me to my silent terror; I would have cried when I heard the familiar sound of the back door sliding open, but too many tears had been shed, leaving me dry and in pain when I dared to ask for more.
I stumbled to the door in a panic, terrified as to what I might have seen.
My eyes burned with the ghost of tears as my stomach turned in my gut, the faint sight of the man moving around in the kitchen reminding me of the caretaker who had been there once, and who was still lying there even after so many days.
I could feel the dry heaves already bubbling in my throat, but something in my heart flickered to life when the faint sound of my radio crackling to life reached me, dispelling the urge to throw up more stomach acid.
I all but scrambled for the noise under the floorboard, its form quickly coming to light when I lifted the small piece of wood concealing the hidden space beneath.
When the stranger's gentle voice peered through the static, I suddenly didn't feel so alone anymore.
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Lee
"God Damn! What died in here?!"
Those were the first words I had spoken since entering the house, and it was the first question I had had answered since I had woken up; I just wish it didn't come in the form of another dead body.
There was a body by the front door, its cold visage devoid of color as maggots and flies littered the corpse. The mere sight of it had me gagging, so I looked away and opted to just ignore it for now.
Finding the bathroom at the end of the hall, I grimaced; it had medicine and the like, but it didn't seem to have anything of use, or something that could be used to at least patch up my leg.
After I was done checking there, I made my way back to the glass sliding door, finding the kitchen to be the next likely place to horde what I was looking for. There was usually alcohol in most fridges, or at least some cans in the cupboards; I say usually because right now, I wasn't finding shit.
Sighing, I gave up on the idea of finding any kind of disinfectant right now.
I turned my focus to supplies next, and aside from the spoiled food in the fridge, there were quite a few soup cans, none of which I could open at the moment. Still, though, it was nice to know they were there.
Groaning, I tried to stave off the spasm, or at least endure it enough that I wouldn't shout. The muscle pain passed eventually, leaving me alone with myself as I went back to rummaging through drawers.
It was in the third drawer that I found something, a walkie-talkie, a lifeless one, but still one nonetheless: though to call it lifeless would be a stretch, because sitting just next to it was a partially open pack of batteries.
"Well, if I could find the other one, that would be a boon."
But one was enough if I couldn't.
Putting the batteries in, the hub lit up, life sparking in its hard plastic shell, and shooting static out through the stale, horrid air; though something odd to note was the slight emerald hue reflecting off of the hub: it was the first time I've seen something like it, as walkie-talkies usually come in the standard gray display.
I listened for a moment, trying to see if I could make out the sound of its pair, but had no luck: with a sigh, I turned it off, or at least, tried to turn it off. When I clicked the power button, it sparked green and stayed on.
A bit creeped out, I turned it over and took the batteries out, hoping the loss of its power source would cut it off from any further function; mindbogglingly, it refused, instead seemingly getting brighter as the green glow from the hub became more prominent, as if it were exerting more power to keep the device on.
I thought about just throwing the possessed thing at the wall, but swiftly went against it, as haunted or not, I didn't have its counterpart, and I needed at least one to possibly piggyback off of another signal to get into contact with another person; I'd try the phone, but the power seemed to have gone out a while ago.
Sighing, I bit the bullet.
"Hello?" If I were going to talk to a ghost, it might as well be with some dignity.
There was a breath, a small lapse in time where nothing did anything, but that lapse was just that, small.
"You should be quiet." The voice said, panic and hope mangled amongst each other.
My brow rose, not at the emotion, but the tone; it was soft, undeveloped, almost like a child, one who had seen too much to be able to stay naive.
Slowly, I questioned back, keeping a tab on what she said beforehand.
"Who is this?"
There was a slightly longer pause this time, but one that was swiftly broken like before.
"I'm Clementine."
The way she said it and the mannerism told me all I needed to know and confirmed to me that who I was speaking to was a child, likely barely nine years old.
'Just like my students.'
I shook my head of the thought, unwilling to dwell on the past.
The static flared again as I spoke into it, my voice firm yet just as calm and gentle as it would be when I was handling one of my students.
"Nice to meet you, Clementine. My name is Lee." There was no after response, so I'd likely get no further with idle chatter, plus, it didn't help that I was starting to get desperate for some kind of relief for my leg.
"If you don't mind me asking, Clementine, why do I need to keep quiet?"
There was another familiar pause, this one a bit longer than the others, but she spoke all the same.
"There's one in there, I think."
'One what?' I thought as I looked around, mildly concerned and a bit confused as to what she was referring to. When I found nothing of point, I turned back to the walkie-talkie, my voice aiming my confusion at the girl on the other side.
"Sorry, Clementine, but I'm a bit lost as to what you're talking about; there's nothing in here." I neglected to mention the body, unsure of whether she knew about it or not.
There was a whimper on the other side that halted my thoughts entirely, the watery voice now painting a clear picture of how scared she was.
"Please... Please just be, be quiet."
I looked around again, a sudden unease resting in my gut as I sighed.
"Ok, Clementine, I'll be quiet, but could you tell me where you are?" I finished off, unsure of how far she really was; It didn't help that I hated the thought of a child seemingly as young as her being on her own.
There was another pause.
"The tree house... I'm the girl in the tree house."
My eyes widened as I stepped closer to the kitchen window, my coal-like gaze piercing the setting sun's veil to see a pair of hazel eyes staring back at me, the very same I saw earlier, before I had come in.
I smiled with all the reoccurrences I could muster, before waving, just like before, though this time I got a timid one in return.
But the timid wave swiftly dissolved into horrified panic as she fumbled with what was likely the radio sitting out of view. I was about to call in to see what was wrong, but she beat me to the punch, her shaky voice blaring through the other end like a siren signaling tragedy.
"BEHIND YOU!"
My gut turned in gratification and horror as it was proven right.
I had never turned so fast in my life, but it had been just enough to step out of the way of the magot-infested corpse as it stumbled past me and into the counter, only to just as quickly make another lunge, this one a bit more successful due to my leg acting up from the swift twist it had been forced to perform.
I groaned in fear as I managed to bring the gun up from my side, its barrel acting as a guard from the cadaver's teeth. Grunting in both pain and fear, I shoved the barrel forward with as much strength as my arms could muster, sending the offender stumbling back onto its ass as a swarm of maggots fell off of its body, sending a gag ripping through my throat at the sight.
This distraction was enough to trip me up, as I barely managed to stumble a bit backwards before falling on my ass, the gun clattering to near the double glass doors as I realized I had slipped on my own blood mixed with maggots, likely from the things' swift lunge over.
I would have gaged again if anger and fear hadn't jump-started my adrenaline again, lending me an unholy amount of strength to just barely fend off another lunge for my throat, if you could even call it that; it looked more like it just wanted to bite me.
My vision flickered black as pain ebbed away at my leg once more, and with it, another lunge, this one far more successful as her teeth hovered mere inches away from my face, gnashing and growling at me.
I could feel my strength slowly start to fade as the adrenaline once more began to crash, and the only thing I could think of was how ridiculous this thing's strength was; it was like trying to arm wrestle a bodybuilder.
The arm keeping the thing's head away by the neck began to numb and shake as its form began to fall slowly but surely.
But, just as its teeth inched closer to my neck, the glass door to my left was ripped open, its form cracking the sound of my struggle in half as the distinct sound of the shotguns parts jingled in my ear, leaving me to barely brace as a shot rang out, deafening me and turning the things head into a mist of blood and brain; with the lack of force pressing down on me, it wasn't hard to toss the body aside, leaving me to gasp on the ground as I tried to regain the lost breath from the struggle.
After catching my breath and gritting through the pain rocking my body, I looked over, finding my young savior shaking in terror as the shotgun in her hands clattered back to the floor, its form swiftly forgotten as red-tentied tears sprang to life at the corners of her hazel orbs.
"Clementine?"
The little girl shook violently at my voice, her mind seemingly only now registering my existence as her lips began to quiver.
"I-I'm s-sorry..." she began to cry.
My brow narrowed in confusion, but I didn't let that affect my tone of voice as I sat up, pain be damned, in front of the crying girl.
"Clementine, honey, there's no need to be sorry; you just saved my life."
But my words didn't seem to satisfy the young girl; her crying soon accompanied by choked words.
"Y-yes, it i-is," she sniffled, "If I had just told you before, you wo-wouldn't be in here, you wouldn't be, h-hurt; I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" She became frantic.
"I was just so s-scared! I went down there before, and one of those things tried to bite me, and-and I thought, I thought you were like them, so I hid; I'm sorry, please, I'm sor-"
I grunted with effort as I pulled the girl into a hug, ceasing her words as I let her cry into my scuffed shirt, its own from most certainly needing a firepit before it could ever be considered clean again.
"It's going to be okay, Clementine, none of this was your fault, sweety; you were just being what you are, a child, and every child has the right to be afraid, so don't pretend like you don't."
"But-"
I sighed, my tone mirthful in mock play in attempts to placate some of her self-blame. "No buts. It wasn't and will never be your fault, understand."
Letting her step out of the hug, I made sure to keep a light grasp on her bare shoulders, her own dirty dress swaying from the small air flowing in through the open door behind her.
She had stopped crying relatively quickly, which, while mildly concerning, also held its own boon. The tears she had cried into my shirt were tinted red, suggesting a few things, but mainly the fact that she might have had a rare medical condition.
'That, or the stress was getting to her.'
It wasn't something I would dismiss, given how young she was.
"I'm sorry..."
I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to get anywhere in terms of getting her to forgive herself for something that wasn't even remotely her fault. So instead, I went with a different route, hoping I'd be able to just make her forget about it.
"Clem, dear, I'm sorry if this is a bit insensitive, but why are you alone?"
Her face scrunched at the word alone, and I could see her lips tremor in sadness as she turned her gaze down to the floor.
Instantly regretting even mentioning it, I went on.
"On second thought, maybe we can talk about that another time, ya?"
I framed it in a way that left an out for her, just in case she didn't want to even mention it, but the attempt proved futile as she shook her head with a tired sigh of her own.
"T-that, thing: that thing; she was my sitter... Mommy and Daddy left her here to take care of me when they went on their trip, but..."
I continued for her. "They'll come back, if they can."
The words, so docile and fragile, managed to spark a bit of a fire in her eyes, igniting that bonfire of hope that resided somewhere in all of us.
Only the lord knows how many times I've fought to keep mine lit, only for it to burn itself into nothing.
Holding her head just a bit higher, she spoke, desperate hope filling every ounce of her words.
"Do you... Do you mean that? They'll come back?"
I winced internally as I realized the trap I had just set myself in, but I didn't let that show, not to her.
I nodded. "That's right, Clem, though it may turn out to be a situation where we have to find them: if you're up for that, that is."
Her lips grew thin, a tight smile decorating her being with something closer to that of a child, one who wasn't traumatized by the life of whatever apocalypse was taking place before the world's eyes.
"Yes, I'd like that."
My own visage split into a smile as I pushed myself up with a grunt, pain rendering my right leg inoperable; or at least that's what it felt like: I made sure to grab the shotgun while I was at it.
Clementine was quick to come to my aid as she clung to my right side, her tiny form bravely acting as the crutch I was missing, even though the gun was in my hands.
Looking down with question, all I got was the cute sight of her looking away in embarrassment, and a few words of honesty.
"I want to help, even just a little... please."
I chuckled after a moment, before strapping the gun to my back with the sling I hadn't even realized was there.
"Right then, but only until we can find somewhere more secure; after that, I'll go back to using the gun until I can find some medical supplies for my leg."
She nodded, no more words for the time.
When everything was said and done, we both stood outback, silent as one could be, while I tried to figure out what we would do from there; I hadn't really thought of anything beyond this point because I thought the world had kept spinning: how naive of me.
But, as lucky as it may be, I heard the answer, literally.
Glancing down at Clementine, I motioned for her to stay quiet, or at least as quiet as she could. She gave a nod, and we slowly approached the gate leading from the back yard to the front, the immediate sight of countless cars abandoned on the side of the road filling my gut with frustration.
A car had been in my book of things I could have used, but given the state of just this road alone, it was likely unusable. Plus, it wouldn't be a fun time trying to clear any car jams; they may just stop us entirely.
That being said, it was a bit shocking to see two men trying and failing to push a car out of the way of a red pickup; given their builds, it shouldn't have been that hard, yet it was.
'Maybe they forgot to take the car out of park.'
It had been a common mistake I've seen a lot of people make.
With one final glance at Clementine, I pushed the gate open, mostly confident that they weren't one of the walking dead; I had many doubts when they didn't even glance back at the noise, and now that I thought about it, they should've been out front when that gunshot went off.
'Then again, that probably just proves that they aren't one of the dead, especially since the last time I personally fired it, it had drawn a horde of cadavers.'
Made me wonder how they didn't hear the second shot.
I sighed inwardly, realizing it was probably best not to look the gift horse in the mouth.
That being said, I pushed Clem behind me for extra caution, opting to limp instead as I spoke to greet the two.
"Hey!" My voice rang; it drew the reactions fitting the oblivious.
"OHH Shit!" The thinner one shouted.
"Please don't eat us!" The bigger fella pleaded.
I sighed, this time openly as I raised my hands.
"Calm down, we aren't going to hurt you." I looked to the side and recalled something. "Well, if you don't try anything that is."
The thinner one shifted in place a bit, seemingly uncomfortable, but answered back anyway.
"All good, man, you have nothing to worry about from my friend and me; we're just trying to get this car out of the way so we can be on our way," he turned while gesturing to the vehicle in question, "but, as you can see, we've had less than stellar results."
I nodded.
"I'll say, you've barely managed to get it past a few inches from its starting point, or at least as far as I'm aware."
The thin man chuckled embarrassingly.
"Ya, can't say we're doing the greatest, but we've made progress, or as much as the rear axle would allow; things rusted badly, so it's seized up and essentially locked into half-parked, if that makes any sense."
I hummed, realizing that I had been partly right in the fact of the car still being in park, but we'd have time to deal with that later; for now, I needed to know what the hell was going on.
"Alright, first things in order, do either of you have any idea what's been going on?"
This got the pair to pause and look at each other while Clem shifted behind me, peaking out with curiosity and trepidation. She was likely just as curious as I was after all.
Sadly, the answer remains unseen as the thin one spoke.
"Sorry, man, can't say we do."
"Ya, it just kind of started a few days ago," the bigger one added.
There was a brief contemplative silence after that, one that was swiftly broken by the thin one speaking up, a suggestion painting the air.
"Ok, I don't know about you, but just calling you man is getting a bit old, so I'd say a few introductions are needed. I'll start. I'm Shawn, nice to meet you."
I wanted to be sceptical, but really, there was no need, plus, calling them the thin one and the bulky one didn't sound too appealing.
"Names Lee, and this," I guided Clem forward a bit, but still kept her behind me, "is Clementine."
The bigger one crouched down, throwing Clementine a gentle wave as he smiled.
"I'm Chet." Flat and simple; we might have gotten along had he been my previous teaching assistant.
After all was said and done, Shawn nodded.
"Right, now that that's out of the way, why don't you come give us a hand with this? I'm sure the three of us will be able to push this out of the way, and in return, we can help you get out of the city; sound fair?"
I smiled.
"That's perfect, actually."
Shawn grinned.
"Alright, with any luck we'll be home by din-"
We were all frozen by a shriek, one that was pitched far too close for comfort.
I whipped around, my right arm covering Clem from the direction of the noise as a lone cadaver stumbled toward us from down the street.
It was when the second shriek sprang to life that we launched into motion, me, Chet, and Shawn all swiftly pushing against the front of the seized car, quickly drawing progress from a snail's pace to out of the way.
"Alright, people, get to the truck!" Shawn shouted as he ran to the driver's side of the red pickup.
Chet was the first one up, his form hopping in the truck's bed; I tossed the shotgun in the back with him, which seemed to relieve the guy just a bit.
"It has one shot if they get close, miss, and you won't get another."
I didn't stand around to see if he understood, instead hoisting Clementine up into my arms and all but throwing myself into the passenger seat, the truck already roaring a soft whine as the tires screeched under us.
Afterward, we lurched forward, the red pickup speeding away as the cadavers were left behind us.
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Kids. I never thought of having one of my own: not seriously anyway. But would she have wanted that? Looking down at the girl in my lap, I couldn't help but regret never asking; a small part of me was jealous when I first started teaching, but it was only now, as I watched the slow rising of Clementine's chest, that I realized I had been jealous.
All those parent-teacher conferences, the proud smiles, the emboldened words singing praise to such young existences, and being rewarded with the feeling of joy when they smiled back.
I hated it, now that I looked back, hated how close I was to achieving the same type of joy and pride, only to have it all slip away from me at the last moment, like sand falling through my fingers.
Could I have stopped it? Probably not; I was never good at fixing things, and I doubt age would change that, but that doesn't change how much the thought hurt.
I sighed, turning my gaze to the blurry grasslands passing us by as we sped down a relatively empty dirt road.
It was calming, despite the pain; it was calming to have her here. Asleep against me, regaining some of those lost nights she was forced to give up. It showed trust, I'd say; hope even.
But really, it showed that despite the world, I was still needed, still wanted, and that... that meant the world to me.
I smiled, whispering to myself.
"I'll protect her... with everything I have... no matter the cost."
"What was that, Lee?"
I jolted from my thoughts, Shawn's voice ripping through it.
"Pardon?"
He kept his eyes on the road, but went on anyway.
"Sorry, you must have been giving yourself a pep talk, huh?"
My brows scrunched in confusion, my voice equally as such.
"I don't think I'm following."
Shawn's eyes widened at something I could perceive before they became pitying, if not sorrowful.
"It's not going to be easy being a single dad through all of this mess, or at least I'm assuming you're single, given I don't see the misses anywhere; you'll need to be extra careful now that your daughter's lost her mother, a bit more attentive as well, she'll need someone to lean on," he finished like he didn't just say the most ludicrous thing in this curent moment.
I looked at him, agape in shock, entirely uncomfortable with the accusation, but oddly welcoming of the role.
Shaking my head, I clarified.
"I'm not her dad, despite what you might think. I'm just some guy who found her alone in a treehouse."
This had Shawn glancing over in disbelief, but only for a moment, as he swiftly turned back to the road, his voice still carrying the news he had just learned.
"You're messing with me; she's literally a carbon copy of you, but a bit lighter: I refuse to believe you."
I chuckled. "Believe what you want, Shawn."
Shawn sighed after realizing I wasn't going to continue, his tone turning serious despite his previous childishness.
"So, do you have any idea where her parents are then?"
I shrugged. "Clementine said they went on a trip when I asked about it: they left a sitter with her while they were gone, but the poor woman was a corpse when I found her. My best guess would be they're in Savannah; it's the only place for a decent vacation in the country, and I don't even wanna imagine what it's going to be like trying to find them in another country."
Shawn audibly winced at that.
"Yikes, man, looks like you just adopted."
I looked over, eyes curious. "What do you mean?"
Shawn's lips thinned as he heaved another sigh.
"Savannah was the epicenter of whatever's been happening to people; supposedly, the government had tried to close it off to contain the spread of whatever this pandemic is: last I heard, they were overrun. After that, though, it's up in the air; but my best guess is that Savannah's become a hotbed for whatever overran them, which, given the dead walking around here, was probably the dead in the city, and with it being as packed as it is, it's not very likely to have any survivors."
A terrible silence fell over the cabin after that, my mind churning the prospect that Clem's parents might actually be dead.
I sighed one last time before letting my eyes fall shut, my mind quickly forgetting the problems of reality as it focused on Clem's soft heartbeat, its own beat lulling me into the land of fantasy.
"Hey, Lee, you think you could hand me that-" Shawn stopped talking as he glanced over to see Lee and Clementine both asleep. With a slight shake of his head, he went back to driving, keeping himself just a bit quieter.
"Man, if only I had a camera," he whispered with a smile.
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Planet Zero
A cold corpse stirred on its throne, caked in shadow.
His cracked emerald orbs peaking the outside as he watched the child with a faint fondness, and her new protecter with tragedy-struck clarity.
He closed his eyes once more, moments later, his mind unable to even conjure a thought as he drifted back into the false reality he had dreamed of. But, with a brief glimpse, one could tell he was sad, because he knew how that would end.
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My mind was sluggish when it came to, with an ever-growing voice piercing the void it was rapidly leaving. It hadn't been long before my eyes flickered open, leaving me to witness as the sun fell completely past the distant horizon, subsequently engulfing the rest of the already meager light the sun left behind.
I groaned, a headache pounding with vigor, and an ache ravaging my leg. My wrists felt better than before, but even they had a small sting to them.
Turning my head, I found Shawn standing outside the truck door, grinning like an idiot.
"So, chose to come back to the land of the living, did we?"
I rolled my eyes while flexing my back; its muscles were stiff from sleeping sitting upright.
"Not like I have much of a choice, Shawn," I groaned out.
The man chuckled.
"Right you are, Lee, but hey, now at least you have the honor of seeing my ugly mug again," he said, a confident smile layering his face.
Sighing, I grinned, appreciating the humor before quipping back myself.
"Oh, the horror."
Shawn got a laugh out of that as he gestured to the house displayed from the driver's seat window.
"Anyway, we'll be staying here for the time being; it's not much, but it does the job: Pa's probly ganna make you help around here when you get patched up, but it's not too bad, so you'll probably be okay for a while."
I nodded.
"Sounds fair."
Our conversation was cut short when a soft voice spoke up from my lap, its tone painted with exhaustion and sluggish curiosity.
"Lee?"
Looking down, I found Clementine warily rubbing her eyes as she fought to keep them open, though it was pretty easy to tell she was losing that fight.
Smiling, I spoke back, my voice a lull.
"It's all good, Sweetpea; we're just getting settled in for the night."
All she did was hum in affirmation before her eyes drifted shut once more, leaving just me and Shawn to witness the scene.
I shook my head while grinning.
"We should get a move on."
I didn't wait for Shawn's reply as I slipped an arm under clem before pulling her up to my chest, her head lying on my shoulder as she neglected to wake. From there, I opened the passenger door and swung my feet out, the open air agitating my open wound just a bit.
Without much hesitation, I let my feet drop, leaving my form standing on the gravel driveway. I made short work of closing in on the truck bed before swiftly stretching my right over the cusp and grabbing the shotgun I threw in there earlier, strapping it to my back as I readjusted my grip on Clementine.
Aftwards, I made my way onto the porch of the main house before taking a seat on an old-looking bench. We were surrounded by old wooden fencing and fields of corn that stretched for miles. To the right sat an old red barn that looked to need some work, and to the left sat an old tractor with a tree rooted a few feet away from it.
Aside from those striking details, there wasn't much else to see, especially with the light rapidly fading over the distant treeline; it was a soft dark blue a few moments later, the moon having swung its full weight around to light up what the sun had left behind, if only just a little.
My attention was disrupted when I noticed Shawn walking up, his own visage accompanied by an older, graying gentleman, likely his father.
"Lee."
I nodded in acknowledgement.
"Shawn." I would have stood to greet the pair, but with Clementine in my arms and the aching pain in my leg starting to grow more intense, it was a strained dream.
The Man beside Shawn didn't seem to mind the lack of proper, instead just smiling in understanding.
"Lee, meet my father, Hershel Greene; and dad, meet our savior, Lee."
Hershel raised a brow.
"No last name?"
I looked away, slightly ashamed.
But nothing more came of the line as Hershel turned to Shawn.
"Son, run inside and grab the first aid kit, would you. I'm sure no one wants to amputate any limbs due to infections, especially now, when everything's basically falling into anarchy."
Shawn nodded swiftly, then wandered off inside the house, whose porch I was sitting on, his voice trailing behind him as he went.
"Sit tight, Lee, my dad's scary good with stitches, so he should be able to fix you right up."
I hummed back with a lack of enthusiasm, but the hyperactive man didn't seem to notice or pay heed, instead vanishing further inside as I was left alone in silence with Hershel.
After a moment of awkward silence, Hershel spoke, his form kneeling down in front of me as he inspected the inflamed gash.
"So Lee, mind telling me how this happened?"
I thought of lying for a moment, to say some lunatic nicked me with a knife during a scuffle, but really, what was the point? So I told it as it was.
"I got it in a car crash."
Hershel's brow rose.
"Car crash, eh? Where were you heading before the car crash?"
My gaze flickered away for a moment before returning with determination.
"Out of Atlanta."
The man hummed in return.
"Were you with anyone?"
I sighed.
"Ya... I was with a Police officer. He didn't make it."
Hershel nodded, a new recognition tickling the edges of his gaze as he sighed.
"Well, I think that's more than enough interrogation on my part, for now. Let's just get you patched up; we can deal with where you'll be sleeping afterwards."
I bulked a bit with how blunt he was, but quickly nodded in agreement. I was more than willing to drop the subject.
"Ah, before we do get to that, though, you might want to know that you and the little one will likely be sharing a space with another family."
My brows furrowed.
"We will?"
Hershel nodded.
"That's right; we don't have enough space for you and the little one inside, so you'll both likely be sharing the barn with the other family: I hope that doesn't bother you too much."
I shook my head.
"No, that's okay, really; it's better than having nowhere to sleep at all."
The graying man grinned.
"Right you are, Lee; but if you don't mind me asking, what's your little one's name?"
Inwardly sighing at yet another misunderstanding, I just rolled with it, her name rolling off my tongue with an unnatural ease.
"Clementine, her name is Clementine."
The man's grin broke into a smile.
"Clementine; what a lovely name."
Our conversation was cut short when Shawn returned, his own form stepping past the threshold of the house, a metal tin in hand bearing the signature sign of medical supplies.
The man handed Hershel the supplies before walking off, not a word spoken as he did so.
Hershel, for his part, didn't seem to mind the silent departure, instead, turning his focus to the kit now in his hands, the latches keeping it shut popped open to reveal a decent collection of basically everything you'd need to stitch someone back together.
Nervousness pecked at me from the back of my mind as a cotton ball was doused in alcohol: this was going to hurt.
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A Bit Later
Overall, the chaos of the new day in a world of disorder hadn't claimed my life like the rest, and I couldn't help but ponder over that fact. Humans in nature were greedy beings, brave beings, and just all around a jack of all trades, but more so the first two.
The silence of the cold night really brought things into perspective, even more so when I caught a glimpse of the stars through the barn's windows. There were millions of them, each one visible past the ozone layer.
It was breathtaking and sobering because if humans hadn't existed, this view would have never been veiled in pollution, hidden behind a soft blanket made of greed and ambition.
But maybe that's why this is happening now, the fall of the world: maybe God saw how greedy humans had become and decided that it wasn't to be tolerated anymore, or maybe greed is what caused this downfall of mankind.
I shook my head, unwilling to dwell on whether this disaster was man-made or not. Because either way, it was reality now, and we had to deal with it.
My gaze was brought back to the world around me as a small figure shuffled into my view, her form slightly shivering as she looked down in embarrassment.
"Something wrong, Clementine?" I asked, my coal-like eyes lingering on her shivering shoulders.
She didn't answer, but I figured it out anyway.
"Are you cold, Clem?"
The small girl nodded, her form looking down at the hay beneath her feet with red-tented cheeks.
I smiled, my own form standing up, careful not to irritate the recently bandaged leg. I crossed the rest of the distance before sitting down next to her, my right hand tapping to motion her to lie down.
She obliged and lay down next to me, her form softly enveloped in a hug as I followed suit.
Her shivers lessened after that, and it wasn't long before her eyes grew heavy once more, but not before she spoke, her tiny voice tinted with more exhaustion.
"Lee.."
I raised a brow.
"What is it, Sweetpea?"
"...Thank you..."
I didn't really know how to respond to that, but it would seem I didn't have to, as her form swiftly fell still in a soft rhythm afterwards, leaving me alone to ponder on the meaning before my own eyes eventually fell shut, my mind powering down for the night as the day reflected on me in my dreams.