chapter four;
true north.
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"AND NOW I KNOW,
THE ONLY COMPASS THAT
I NEED. IS THE ONE THAT
LEADS ME BACK TO YOU . . ."

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❀ SIDNEY ❀

    "I'VE DONE SOME pretty fucked up things in my life, but this? This tops all of it." Sidney grimaced as Rick brought the axe down, chopping up flakes of skin. The rotten blood of the geek they stole from the alley, splattered across its torso. The walls and ceiling. Rick's face. Rust-colored liquid pouring out of the side of the wound. Putrid and nostril-burning. Sidney had to cover his mouth to keep himself from puking all over the floor, and his shoes. He forced himself to swallow the puke and keep his eye on the prize.

Getting the fuck out of there—alive. The alive part was the most important aspect of the plan. Rick seemed to miss that point completely when he declared they'd be walking through the sea of the dead. Toward freedom, a semi-truck would offer them. Drowning in the ocean of the damned was not an option. Rick promised as much, but as he brought the axe down for a third time. Rust-colored blood oozing out of the wood, Sidney held his breath and waited for the current to pull him under.

"Thought you wanted to be a doctor, or somethin'?" Rick hummed. Wiping away the blood that had sprinkled the side of his cheek. Goggles smeared with it, and skin green with sickness.

"Mutilating corpses wasn't exactly part of the curriculum—least not at my college." He patted Glenn's back as the Asian man kneeled over. Dry heaving in the corner. Sidney twisted his nose, pulling his hand away to wipe it on his jeans. "Gross," he said, plugging his nose again.

Rick shook his head as he brought the axe down again. A crunching sound accompanied the motion, and a blood vessel burst. Spraying out on all sides. "Yeah, you take over." He handed the axe to Morales. Covering his mouth as water gathered up in his blue eyes. Skin the color of grass.

Morales stared blankly at the weapon before clipping his tongue and lowering the goggles down his face. The plan was one he was willing to get on board with. If he ever planned on seeing his wife and kids again. Sidney himself lacked the faith in Rick's idea that the cop wanted them all to. He had yet to get on board and push himself out to sea in a raft with a group of practical strangers. Although, he supposed the end of the world was one big storm after another. Sailing out to sea with strangers to get stuck in the tide with.

Come hell or high water they showed up—so far. Sidney doubted he'd do the same. If the roles were reversed.

"God, I'm gonna hurl," said Glenn. Still hunched in the corner. Hands on his knees, and not to pray. His baseball cap discarded off to the side where god knows what muck could cover it.

The axe came down harder, slicing into bone, and chopping up what was left of the organs. "Remember 9th grade? We dissected that frog—" he picked up Glenn's hat. Dusting off the dirt, and placing it in his hoodie pocket for safekeeping. The pills clanked around. Welcoming the new object. "How you puked all over Anna Cooper's new blouse?"

    Glenn's eyebrows twisted down. Nose upturned, wiping the puke from his chin, but he stopped puking . . . at least. "You bring that up now? How is that helping?"

    Sidney shrugged as blood flew up around them. The blood vessel popping and pouring out of the chest. Glenn took one look at the crimson mess and then toppled over. Puking his guts up all over the floor, and Sidney's shoes. Andrea looked over, nose upturned at the mess before turning her head to rest on Jacqui's shoulder. The two women were facing away from the scene. "Disgusting," she said, after a moment of silence.

   "Ughh," Glenn moaned. Hand placed over his face as he vomited up the rest of his breakfast. Eyebrows raised at Sidney's shoes, and the green liquid now coating them. "I-I'm sorry." He breathed out. Sidney patting him on the back in recognition.

    Morales plugged his nose as he moved past the two college-aged boys. Handing the axe, and the responsibility of handling Mr. Dunlap's corpse, back to Rick. Who took the role with a heavy heart, and a desire to honor the dead man and his sacrifice. A speech Sidney wanted to avoid for the second time hanging off of Rick's lips. But the cop held his tongue, bringing the axe down on the corpse to finish the job. He wiped away the insides from his visor, looking pale himself. "Everybody got gloves? Don't get any on your skin, or in your eyes."

From his pocket, Sidney uncovered a pair of gardening gloves he found in the home improvement section of the store. They were women's gloves, and about two sizes too small, but he forced them on his hand and made them fit anyway. For the moment, the too-tight gloves would have to do.

Glenn stood up, crumpling his gloves in his fist as he pulled the clear plastic sheet over him. Ready to face the storm of geeks outside. They hadn't needed to vote on who would accompany Rick to the semi parked outside, Glenn volunteered the moment the option was given. Brave-faced and completely utterly terrified. But the others, they hadn't recognized the fear in him. Pouring out of his pores and across his features. They hadn't known Glenn's innermost thoughts. His secrets. His wishes. His greatest fears. All they knew was his sacrifice. His desire to prove himself.

    But Sidney knew. He always knew. For you see, Glenn had a tell. A quirk of the eyebrows gave away his fear. Ever since Sidney knew him. The nine-year-old boy came to the door when Sid moved in was still there sometimes. Dressed up inside the body of the twenty-two-year-old he masked as.

He volunteered to go with Rick, just so no one would have to vote . . . and they all knew he would.

   Sidney huffed out some air, pulling at the skin of his nail before he perked up. "I'm coming too," Sidney said. The finality to his voice shook the very ground they stood upon. Glenn risking his life for a group that hadn't volunteered to help. Well, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to Glenn at all. Glenn and Rick would be risking their lives out there while the rest of them sat around and picked their asses—and now Sidney too.

"What?" Nothing but silence after Glenn's words. Crickets if the dead roaring outside weren't blaring through Sidney's eardrums. Morales made a face. One of shock no doubt but Sidney tried to ignore it.

When no one else responded, T-Dog spoke up. Hands already raised in the air in surrender. "No offense, man. But do you know how to shoot?"
      
    Sidney rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, T." The doubt T-Dog had in his abilities stung a bit. Especially considering T himself wasn't looking too good. His eye was swollen shut, and his face black and blue. Sidney was not a child. He was twenty-two years old, and he was as capable as anyone else in the group. Andrea had a gun, and she was hardly a master marksman. "And what does that even matter for? We don't have any guns—"

"No way!" Glenn's eyeballs popped out. Ready to burst. His brow was twitching in that judgmental way it always had. His friend was thinking about the first night in Atlanta. When a small child—no a geek. Came to Sidney. He wasn't fast enough. The shock of seeing such a small soul trying to kill him overwhelmed him for a moment. He froze, and Glenn had to put the geek down. For both of them. The rock had been dripping with rust-colored blood when he was finished. Discarded off to the side in a crimson puddle of its own creation.

That night should have killed them all. Sidney would have been dead if it weren't for Glenn then. Would have been dead a thousand times over if it weren't for Glenn.

Sidney clenched his teeth. Barely glancing at Glenn. "We do it together, remember?" Struck by the lightning of Sidney's words, Glenn was stunned. He opened his mouth to say something before closing it again. The words stuck to his tongue like glue. "I'm going, and no one can stop me." It was completely positively stupid, and he knew as much. Part of Sid wanted to back down. Say never mind, but then he'd send Glenn out there with only Rick to back him up, and he was the cause of all their problems. Sure, he seemed apologetic now. With earnest blue eyes and a mind racing with possible ways of escape for everyone. But it could change at a moment's notice.

Everyone had an agenda. Even Officer Friendly from down the road a ways.

"Are you sure?" Rick asked. His eyes were unblinking at Sidney. Holding his gaze and his willpower in the palm of his hands. Was Sidney sure? "Once we get out there we can't turn around for nothin'." The nightmare they had been living in the past two and a half months didn't seem to be going away anytime soon. And he came on the supply run knowing what he was getting himself into.

The pills felt heavy in his pocket, and he swallowed down his fear. Nodding along. "Yeah . . ."

    Rick nodded back. Brown curls flopping near his ears. "Okay, suit him up." He gestured to the others, tilting his head. Glenn had shot Sidney a nasty look. Plagued with all the words he hadn't been able to say out loud, but he held his tongue—and he waited. Sidney ignoring him and his vibes as wholeheartedly as he could.

    Glenn shot a dirty look, which Sidney promptly ignored. He shut his eyes, afraid he'd lose his nerve if he watched the others splatter guts and blood all over them. He felt the cool material of the see-through cloth being placed over his neck. The warm wet feeling of the guts spreading across his chest and torso. T-Dog's hands rubbing in the rusting liquid as much as possible. Smearing him in the ruination of the world. The ink of the dead's pen.

     The worst part was the smell . . . Rotting corpses not only surrounding him but infiltrating him. His senses. His body. His blood. There was no escape. Sidney's eyes watered, his nose and throat burned. His hands shook with the knowledge. With the blood of a man taken far before his time. A man turned monster. Decomposing while still alive. While still overwhelmed with the one impulse of consuming flesh. Consuming human flesh.

     The blood festered on his clothes. His poncho. Burning into the very fabric of his being—he was becoming one of them. The dead. Or at least his outer appearance was. His odor. Memories got him through it. The daydream of being back at camp. A warm cup of coffee in his hand and good company beside him. His gramps. The man sitting next to him in silent. Basking in the shared comfort of kin. Of love. Everything was for him. For Gramps. For Glenn.

     Nothing had been for himself.

    "T," he whispered. The man in front of him rubbing his hands across the cloth. Spearing as much blood as possible. But he heard him all the same. Stopped what he was doing to listen. "If I don't make it back—"

    "Hey, don't talk like that. I-It won't happen."

   The pocket of Sidney's jacket weighed him down. Even with the knowledge of what he was about to do. He reached in. Grabbing hold of the bottle, and bringing it up to T-Dog's pocket. Opening his eyes for the first time as he placed it inside. T-Dog's mouth open in shock. "If I don't . . . Tell my grandfather I tried. I-I really fuckin' tried." T's lips formed a thin line. His eyes drifted down to his pocket, and the pill bottle that was placed inside. Concealed from the others, but now two people knew of its existence. Of Sidney's theft.

    Silence—the sound of compliance. Of acceptance despite his reservations about Sidney's revelations. He nodded, slowly but wholly. Finishing up spreading geek guts and blood all over Sidney. He clapped his hands together and wiped them off along the wall. Crimson handprints smearing across the white landscape.

   "Oh, it's bad. It's really bad," Glenn said. The group smeared guts on him as he tightened up his muscles. Eyes snapped shut and nose upturned at the smell.

    Rick only flinched. "Try to think of something else."

"Like what? Puppies and kittens?"

   "Dead puppies and kittens," T-Dog muttered. Sidney watched as all remaining color drained from Glenn's face. The younger man pushed Morales and Andrea aside. The blood dripped down their hands as he kneeled over. Green bile pouring from his lips, again.

    Andrea shook her head, staring down at her hands and wondering what to do with them. She couldn't put them on her hips as she often would have done for fear of getting the dead's guts all over herself. "That is just evil. What is wrong with you?"

T at least had the good sense to look apologetic. Frowning slightly as he walked over and patted Glenn on the back. Careful to avoid the puddle of bile left on the floor. "Sorry man," he said, earnestly, and Glenn moaned. Throwing up again but acknowledging the apology all the same. He had never been good at the sight of human blood, let alone the rotting decaying blood of a geek. So far he had handled the sight better than Sidney had thought he would have. Only vomiting three times. Another reason for Sidney to go with him, and watch his back.

Rick dared to bend his neck and sniff his shirt. Nose wrinkling in an oddly familiar way Sidney couldn't place. Before he pulled away green in the face. "Do we smell like them?"

The air was putrid with the musk of the corpses' rot. Following Sidney's nose like a shadow he could not shake. He refused to breathe through his nose. His mouth burning but saving himself from the smell which had Glenn gagging in the corner and Rick about ready to join him. The rest of the group took a step back. Desperate to claw their way out of the odor that followed the three of them till their death. Or they washed it off—whatever came first.

"Oh yeah," Andrea said, eyebrows raised. She twirled a loose piece of her hair, blowing it out of her face. A moment taken to debate something important that struck her face. Finally, she pulled out her handgun. Hand gliding across the safety before handing it to a dumbstruck Glenn. "Just in case." The Asian man gulped in response. The gun was heavier in his hands than the pills were in Sidney's pocket, but he took it, and he said nothing about it.

"When we make it back be ready," Rick said. Sidney's stomach dropped at the reality of what he signed up for. Gut doing Olympic gymnastics at the thought of what waited for him out there. He hadn't seen a herd since the first time he was in Atlanta. Hadn't faced the storm in over two months, and he hadn't ever gone to the heart of the storm. Waiting in the middle for them to gain a clue like a dead idiot.

Maybe he shouldn't have volunteered at all?

   "What about Merle Dixon?" T-Dog asked. The redneck handcuffed to the roof was the furthest from Sidney's mind. He wanted to tell T to leave him behind. The wrong thing to say, but he couldn't help his mind from thinking it. The Dixon man wouldn't think twice about leaving Sidney behind. Killing Sidney. Killing T-Dog—he knew men like Merle his whole life. They were the scum of the earth, but they were also the ones to be afraid of. The one to turn his nose up at. But he knew not to say as much at the end of the day. The others would feel discomfort with Sidney's thoughts. His insistence on leaving the racist to rot.

The poor white men who hated Sidney always got away with it. They were products of their time. Of their lack of education. And Sidney was expected to take those excuses with a smile and an understanding no white person would ever have to extend to him. His discomfort was an inconvenience at best. Theirs was a loaded gun—the loaded gun won.

Every damn time.

Rick threw something into T-Dog's hand. T looked down at his palm to find the silver gleam of the key to Merle's handcuffs. The fate of Merle Dixon placed in the hands of the man he wronged rather than anyone else. A silent agreement washed over the two. T-Dog's dark eyes already flashing with what Sidney knew to be the wrong choice. They'd be taking Merle home with them. A choice which would probably kill them all in the long run but it wasn't Sidney's to make, and he was glad for it. He didn't need to fate of the old asshole to weigh on his shoulders. Not when so much had already been crushing him.

Rick took a deep stabilizing breath and spun on his heels toward the door. It was time to go, and from the forlorn faces of his friends, pulled down like puppets on a martinet string, Sidney knew it to be what it was. A funeral march. And the cop marched. Shoes splashing up water as he took off out into the alleyway. Glenn and Sidney exchanged a glance. One of terror and gratitude. They wouldn't have to face what was out there alone. Before following after him.

The alleyway was as barren as a desert landscape. Empty and weary. As if Sidney, Glenn, and Rick were the intruding species rather than the natural habitats. Suddenly, two pillars of the geek community appeared from around the corner. Dragging themselves along the concrete with their hands. One had scraped its knees down to the bone. Still silver and gnarly. The kneecap of a human rather than whatever creature the dead were. Their long heavy legs had been chopped from their bodies. Mouths held agape to catch any poor soul unlucky enough to get caught in their grasp.

SLAM! Sidney nearly jumped out of his skin as the door was shut and locked behind the suicidal trio. There was no turning back.

The rotting corpses surrounded them as they inched further onto the street. Their human scents masked just as Rick believed they would be. Something he had gotten right indeed. Sidney glanced over at the other two, trying not to move his head too suddenly as to draw attention. Glenn had his eyes wide open. Lids glued to his eyebrows. His expression had been written in pure terror. Teeth chattering bone breaking terror—if moving too suddenly didn't mean death by a geek swarm.

Terror was radiating off of Rick too. Although he hid it better than Glenn did. As a dead man moved closer to Rick he didn't flinch. Smelling his skin, and his hair, and deeming him dead enough to pass as one of its own. They were safe. For the moment.

In front of them, a green and black city bus blocked the trio's path. Forcing them down on their hands and knees, and crawling army-style underneath the bus to make it out where the city touched the sky. Sidney, as large, and as awkward as he had been at 6'4. Lowered himself to the ground at a snail's pace. Extra careful not to scrape an elbow or knee on his descend with the concrete. There within the depths of the bus, the dead sang. Locked inside. Trapped within hell itself, and pounding at the door. Desperate to be free. To hunt for the human flesh which never truly satisfied them.

Would they starve? Their bodies deteriorate until there was nothing left but skin and bones? Even then would the hunger would fester. Buried so deep in their bones they'd be fueled by the insanity even in perceived death? Was there death for the unliving? Or was there nothing but hunger for eternity?

Sidney shook the thought from his mind. Careful not to let his eyes linger on the inhabitants of the bus for too long. Once free of its grasp, he caught his breath with the net of his lungs. His heart was beating in his throat as he steadied himself on his surroundings.

What he saw had it drop further into the pit of his stomach . . .

Hundreds, if not close to a thousand geeks—no, more, if he counted the ones still pushed up to the department store door, oblivious to the fact that their meals were covered in guts, and walking among them. There were too many to fully count, and Sidney felt dizzy trying. His brain was screaming at him to turn back. To stay in the store forever, and hope for a miracle. But it wasn't in the cards. If they stayed they would die. No one was coming. T-Dog had confirmed such. The walkie brought the staticky voice of camp an hour before. Even if they had the numbers to, no one was coming, and no one had been able to get a hold of Gramps.

    They were in it themselves, and if in the cards, they would die by themselves. The store was a temporary shelter. Scavenged by the dead sooner rather than later. They were backed against the wall. They had tried every possible tactic to get free. All that remained was Rick's plan. Hide in plain sight. Walk among those who wanted them dead. Feast on the brains of the rotting corpses as they had tried to feast on theirs.

    "We're gonna make it," Glenn whispered. The panicked edge to his voice he had held since the dead cornered them in the store had almost faded. "I can't believe it!" There was a skip to his step. A trembling twinkle in his eye. There walking among the dead, he found himself. Found his courage. Who would have thought?

    A geek with skin peeling off its face paused in front of the trio. The light in Glenn's voice drew in the months, and they surrounded as they often did. Sidney drew closer to Glenn. His words were almost believable, but Rick's lips thinned. Eyes glued to the months. "Don't draw attention," he said, eyes glued on Sidney. But he had been right, they were halfway to the parking lot, and the scent had been holding. The dead were indeed as stupid as they looked. And Rick wasn't as dumb as he looked.

    The lightning that struck down in front of Sidney's shoes, taking out a geek in his path, laughed at the young man, and his adorable naivety. The crash of thunder, and the end of their lives followed. Like war drums sounded by the Grim Reaper himself. Three more souls on his list. He knew before the raindrop hit his cheek. His bones settled uneasily. An ancient ache awoken by the survival instincts of his ancestors roared in his gut. Then the rain fell, and the battle was upon them.

If the geeks felt the rain dribble upon their skin, they made no motion to show such. Their growls and groans were louder and more disgruntled than before, but it was hardly due to the rain. No, it was among the humans they could smell among them. The guts and blood that masked their scent were washed away in the downpour. The meal they believed to had lost was found again, and this time they wouldn't let Sidney and the others get away.

"The smell's washing off. Isn't it?" Glenn asked in a low voice. Forcing his voice to resemble a panicked whisper in the wind rather than a yell of get the fuck out of there. Sidney wasn't sure he could speak and still conceal himself. So he remained silent, as the geeks closed in on them. A crowd of Atlanta natives worse than when they were alive.

   "No, it's not." Rick was lying through his teeth, but it comforted Sidney all the same. If only slightly. The man had an easy aura about him. A practiced gentleness that men spent their whole lives trying to resemble. An outspoken nature. One who soothed before everything else. Making those around him believe that just maybe everything would work out in the end. And if Sidney had been a man more sure of goodness. Of hope. He might have believed Rick Grimes. Unfortunately, he wasn't that man, and he didn't miss the way his shoulders trembled as a geek stared him down. Mouth wide, and ready to chop down on its nearest prey. "Well, maybe."

    He struck his axe down with the force of the lightning. Straight into the head of the nearest geek—or walker as Rick had been calling them. Its brain split in two. Rust colored liquid pouring out the top of the wound. Spraying Rick with some of its juice, but the damage had already been done. The dead knew they were impostors, and Mother Nature hated them. Clearly.

"RUN!" Rick's scream echoed in the clearing as the dead surrounded them. Their moans and growls louder and hungrier than before. The earth shook as thunder roared in the distance again.

    Sidney wasted no time getting the fuck out of there, and with the force of a man unwilling to die, he shoved one of the beasts backwards. Into another one as they both went tumbling to the ground. He brought his boot up, stomping down hard on the head of the walker. Rotten brain matter splashed all across the concrete.

     He tried to strike the next geek with his knife, but his swipe missed by an inch, and instead Sidney had to duck down as it tried to bite down on his hand. Rick's blade lodged in the side of its head before it could get close enough to bite. His axe having swung between its eyes, more guts spraying upon Sidney's cloak. But it was no point, and he shed the thing as quickly as he could. Moving lighter without the added weight of the smooshed blood across its material.

    Glenn sprinted first, clearing a path for the other two as he ran toward the safety of the fenced-in parking lot. Rick pushed Sidney in front of him, taking up the rear and slicing at the dead with his axe. Sidney just hoped his legs, which felt like jelly, wouldn't give out as he followed after his friend. There was a reason Glenn always came alone, and it was because he worked faster and quieter without help. Sidney finally understood his anger at bringing the group. His reluctance to even allow them to go. When he was alone, he worried about himself, and himself alone.

   With a heart beating in his throat, Sidney clutched his knife close to himself. Grateful for the cop behind him for the first time since he met him earlier that day. Part of him wanted to shove it deep in the heads of the dead he passed, but a greater part forced him to run, and run alone. In fight-or-flight, he chose to flee. He always chose to flee.

      Glenn jumped the fence first, feet landing gracefully on the other side before Sidney and Rick touched the metal gate. And he picked up a metal rod, forcing it into the head of geeks who tried to grab at Sidney and Rick as they climbed over too. Rick hitting the ground almost as gracefully as Glenn. Sidney landed in a heap on his hands in knees. Scraping up his jeans. Before Glenn pulled him to his feet and pushed him forward. Sidney's breath was heavy and labored. Man, he had never been a good runner.

    Rick grabbed the keys to the huge semi and threw them to the nearest occupant with a free hand. Sidney who rushed forward. Unlocking the truck and climbing inside as the dead pushed against the fence. Bending its rods, and forcing Glenn back. Rick was firing off rounds at the ones who were climbing in from the sides.

    With shaky hands, he turned the ignition. The truck roared to life as Rick climbed in the passenger side, and Glenn flipped into the back. It hit him suddenly as he stared down at the lit-up icons. The gear he had no idea how to use. "Shit—"

    "Go, hurry!" Rick said, slamming the door shut and lodging his gun back in his belt. He hung on to the safety handle as if the car was gonna move anywhere. Sidney stared at the steering wheel blankly. Mouth open and hands sweating. He could feel Rick's anticipation radiating off of him, but he refused to look out of the corner of his eye.

The geeks had gotten through. Pouring in through the sides of the fence like a leak, and making their way toward the idling car. "He can't drive." It was Glenn who spoke, but Sidney felt the knife dig deep into him all the same.

A beat passed. "What?"

He gripped the steering wheel harder. Teeth clenched. "Ughh, I just reverse it right?"

   "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T DRIVE?"

   "I never learned okay? Yell at me about it later."

   "Guys," said Glenn. Face leaning toward the fence, and all the walkers coming through.

   "Move over, now!"

  "Guys?" Glenn said again, the pair turning to look at what he was pointing to. The fence previously holding the army of the dead back fell forward; all of them plummeted toward them at breakneck speed. "Go, go, go" Glenn yelled at Sidney, as a geek banged against the passenger side of the door. And Sidney stepped on the gas, propelling them forward.

    With a split-second decision, he reversed the car. Rather than risking going through the walkers and getting stuck. Heading in the opposite direction from the rest of the group. Clutching the steering wheel till his hands were black and blue, he prayed as he turned to the corner, taking out a pair of trash cans, that there would not be more of the dead crowding that way. 

   "No!" Glenn leaned forward. No seatbelt on in the bed of the truck. "We can't leave everyone there!" He shouted at Sidney. At Sidney driving for the first time. Driving a huge semi-truck rather than a car too. He barreled left with a sharp jab of the wheel. The two passengers tumbling around as he did so.

   "I can't just drive through them!" He told his friend. Heart beating too fast. He accelerated the gas again. Hoping to put as much distance between them and the herd as possible. He needed to clear his head on the open road. Think. Plan. They wouldn't just leave the others behind—T-Dog . . . The pills. "We've got to circle back once they've cleared or something."

   "They don't have that long. You saw the dead piled up on the doors," Glenn said, he closed his eyes trying to breathe for a second. "Oh my god, they'll be all over that place." He finally realized.

    "You two need to draw them away from the store. Those rolled-up doors at the front of the store," Rick said, already a plan in motion. "Those are the ones I need to be cleared. Radio your friends. Tell them to be ready." Sidney made another sharp turn. Almost taking out a mailbox as he did. Fuck, driving was a lot harder than he thought. Controlling both the wheel and the stick at the same time, proved too much for him. As the passengers tumbled across the seats.

    "I-I had to. To get us out of there. They have to know that," Sidney whispered. There was a ringing in his ear, and everything sounded muffled. He was trying not to cry, even though that's all he wanted to do. The group probably thought they had left them, and Sidney did leave them. What would his Gramps think? What would he say? He never left a man behind. The code drilled into him wouldn't allow it.

   "Here, pull over." Rick's voice softened, and he pointed toward a red sports car in front of them. He stared at him, blue eyes earnest. "You didn't leave them, okay?" Sidney felt the added weight of his hand on his shoulder. Grounding. Protective. Before he squeezed lightly. Clicking his teeth together and hopping out of the car as Sidney sat there stunned. Too afraid to speak.

   He walked over to the red car. Scanning his surroundings before he used the hilt of his gun to smash open the window. Everyone's hands shot up to their ears, shielding themselves from the high-pitched screech of the alarm. His plan, Sidney realized, was to make as much noise as possible. To drive something fast enough the dead could t catch up. No matter how many there were. That was how they'd get their people out.

"You drive this time," he told Glenn. Opening the car door for Glenn to climb inside.
   
   "Sure, I'm a better driver anyhow," he tried for a lighthearted joke. But with skin as pale as a ghost, abs face haunted by what he witnessed. It came out sticky and cold rather than airy. Sidney couldn't bring himself to care much either way.

   The car in fact was loud. Blaring alarms made it difficult to radio the group. Plugging his ears as he tried to give instructions to the others. They needed to meet by the side door for Rick to pick them up. If the walkers were truly attracted to noise, they'd follow the sports car Glenn was driving. Giving Rick enough time to get the others and get out of there. He slowed down. Car idling as he waited for the geeks to notice him. They did. Inching closer and closer and closer to the car.

    Almost there . . . Almost there—Glenn sped off in the opposite direction of the swarm. From the rearview mirror, Sidney kept a close eye on the dead rushing after them, but it was no use. They were too fast. The walkers would never catch up to them.

    Once safely on the highway, heading back to camp, Sidney began laughing hysterically, tears of relief forming in his eyes. "We fuckin made it man!" He yelled, slapping Glenn on the shoulder. Happiness or maybe adrenaline bubbling up in his chest. He was grinning all over, voice shaking. They didn't die . . . They'd make it back to Gramps in no time.

   Glenn wiped the sweat from his brow. A shit-eating grin spread across his face. "And we got a cool car,"  he yelled over the alarm. He rolled down the window. Screaming out into the wind as his hair flapped on the highway. "WE GOT A COOL CAR!" They zipped their way back to camp. Back to Gramps and the others. The truck was following behind them slowly. Way back on the horizon.

      Sidney laughed again, screaming out his window. "WE GOT A COOL CAR, AND WE ARE ALIVE!!"

Pretty soon the college-aged boys would be back at camp. Back with the responsibilities adulthood brought, but in that moment they could forget all about their responsibilities, the apocalypse, the geeks - and just take in the car ride. Windswept hair, sun-kissed skin; and the setting sun as their backdrop as the Quarry got closer and closer.

Take in the moment . . . before reality stole time from them once more.

❀ LUCY ❀

⋆˚✿˖° ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆⋆˚✿˖°

CARL GRIMES WAS A DEAD KID—at least that's what Lucy decided as she stomped around camp looking for the little brat. There in the palm of her hand, she was holding the key to her heart. The one piece of her soul she needed over everything else. Her iPod. Lucy had gone to the tent that afternoon, nerves pinching at her spine, and the need to drown out her thoughts with some music, to find her iPod missing. No, not missing. Hidden under Carl's pillow, and dead. He drained the battery by leaving it on too long, and with no way to charge it. The iPod she got for last Christmas was dead. Just like her father. Just like the supply group would be soon.

Just like Carl would be once she found him. The little coward knew her wrath would be upon him. So he did as little brothers did best. And he hid from her. She spent the better part of fifteen minutes searching for him until she finally found him.

The two fought like cats and dogs. All barred teeth and raised knuckles, and ugly words. Carl even kicked Lucy's shin, and she of course, as the bigger sister, couldn't let that slide. So she tackled him to the ground. Both their freshly cleaned clothes were full of dirt. But Carl was smaller, and he knew how to fight dirty. Pulling on Lucy's hair—of all things! Calling her names she'd have to repeat to their mother. Just to get him in trouble a bit more. If she carried more dignity, she wouldn't have let him bait her into a fight. Would have used her words as her mom told her to. But he broke it. The one thing she had that was hers. He destroyed it after she told him many times not to touch it.

    "ITS DEAD!" She yelled, pushing him off of her as he yanked on her hair. But Carl had an iron grip, and he was hanging onto her like a koala. "I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH!"

   "YOU SUCK!" He yelled back. Red in the face and pulling down on a strain of her hair again. Throwing her back into the dirt when she tried to stand. "I JUST WANTED TO LISTEN TOO!"

   "YOU BROKE IT YOU IDIOT!" It was gone. The one thing. The one thing she had left to calm her. The song she had which reminded her of her dad. People were starting to stare. Dale definitely went to get her mom, but she didn't care. Lucy felt the tears prickle at her eyes as she stared down at the iPod.

   Carl folded his arms. His ears were going red as he took in all the people starting to look. "I'm not an idiot." He claimed, and he was very wrong.

   "Only an idiot leaves the battery runnin'—" He threw a stick at her face. Which Lucy dodged, but then he threw enough. Threw grass again.

  "What the hell is this?" Shane said, stomping over to the siblings. Gun still slung over his shoulder. He was still on watch when someone went to get him. To get him to stop the Grimes siblings from fighting as they went down to the lake to get Lori. He folded his arms. Eyebrows raised at the pair who were currently in a pile on the floor. Legs tangled and grass in her hair from Carl throwing it at her.

   "He broke my iPod!"

  "She called me an idiot!"

  They both shared their side of the story at the same time. Fixing each other with twin glares when the other told their side. But Shane sighed. Clicking his teeth together. If her father had been there he would have told them both to make up. They were family and life was too short to be angry at family, but he wasn't there. Uncle Shane was. And he had a short temper and a quick tendency to shout when he got mad. How was he to tell the siblings not to do the thing he would have done?

   "What happened?" Lori came running up from the side of the quarry. Hands still wet from washing clothes. Hair wind-blown and falling out of the ponytail. Even in a state of disarray, she was perfect. Beautiful and tall, and never quick to anger in the way Lucy was. She never would have had grass stuck in her hair. "Shane?" She looked to the siblings' uncle. Who still had a hand wiping back his hair. Trying to make sense of the fight, and what he was meant to do about it.

  "They're fighting 'bout that iPod. Or somethin'," he said. Frowning. Lori frowned too. Walking forward to stand right in front of Lucy and Carl. She looked so imposing and tall. The way she always did when Lucy was young and she got in trouble.

    Shame crept up Lucy's spine. And she pushed up off the ground. She stood and brushed off the dirt on her knees. It wasn't just the feeling of losing her melodies that hurt her, but every pair of eyes from those of the camp on her. The weight of their stares as they leveled what the supply group's absence meant for them all—Lucy of course had a talent for taking center stage. Making it all about her. That's what they thought. She could hear it in their whispers. Lost to the wind but still mind-numbing.

   But her mother, the one who had given life to her soul, was worst of all. Her lips were thin. Judgement barely there, but disappointment radiating from her pores. Lori Grimes was dignified. She was kind, and the most loving person Lucy knew. She never would have fought with her brother in the dirt. Especially not on a day when six members of their group were trapped and left for dead.

  Heat crept up her cheeks, burning with the stain of embarrassment. "Errr I-I." The shaky exhale of her breath did little to convince anyone of her side. The tears prickling at her eyes made her seem younger than she was. The attention was the worst part. She wanted to disappear. Run into that forest and never look back. So she did just that. Twirling on her feet and heading toward the rock she liked to go to at the end of camp. Far enough away people would leave her be, but close enough to still see her atop Dale's RV.

   She gave no explanation for her departure. Gripping the dead iPod as if it held the eternal life of her father. If she vanished into the depths of her grief, well it would be Carl's doing. He'd taken it from her—the world had taken her father from her. Lucy's life, or what had been left of it, was falling apart. Dying with those sick with the disease that plagued the universe.

    So she sat on the rock. Boiling under the hot sun of hell, and scoffed at Carl's words. At his lack of apologies for killing the battery. For touching her things. Hand placed firmly under her chin, and fingers tracing the dirt in front of her.

   It had only been a few minutes when Lucy realized she had been placed under the guardianship of her uncle. Shane sitting in a lawn chair far enough to give her space, but close enough to keep an eye on her. To stop anything in those woods from killing her. Or trying to at least. He had his shotgun propped up on his lap. Not much of a talking-out-one feelings kind of guy. So different from her father, but the same in some ways. Only Rick Grimes would sit by her on the edge of the universe. Just to protect her.

    In a cocoon of her own denial over her part in the fight, Lucy watched Shane clean the shotgun. For what felt like the hundredth time. While Carl stayed close to the RV with their mom. Most likely working on some school assignments or other activities.

   Unfortunately, with her only source of entertainment being zapped away, and no energy to think up another. Lucy Grimes engaged in a pout of her own. Her lips quivered as she traced her lines in the dirt, feeling the particles run across her hand with every strike. She wanted to ask Shane a question, but Shane, who had been a pillar to the Grimes family after the tragedy of Rick's death, was for lack of a better word; grumpy.

    And Lucy herself? Well, she was feeling depressed. Anxiety and stress have clouded her mind ever since they had to leave home. Since her dad had been declared dead. The bursts of sadness followed by anxious outbursts like the one earlier had been rare when her dad was still alive. There was nothing to be anxious about when she had everything she could ever want. Her family whole, and together. All the love in the world. She had been lucky then—Lucky Lucy as her family called her when she was young. She had been younger then. Young still, but not whole. Never to be whole again. If only. If only she could have him back. She wouldn't take it for granted. Wouldn't curse the world. Or spit in the face of those who wronged her.

   She'd be good. Only good like she used to be. But it was no use. For weeks in the hospital, she prayed for a miracle. For a chance at her dad waking up and seeing her once more. God hadn't answered her prayers. Instead, he bombed the city and left the dead to rule in his name. He had been cruel. Only cruel in the weeks they'd survived at the Quarry camp.

   It had been Shane who protected them in the absence of the lord. Upholding his oath he'd taken the day he first became an uncle to the screaming infant not even a day old. She had been placed in his arms third. The first person who wasn't her parents to hold her, and he promised her then he wouldn't fail her. Staring into the depths of the blue eyes. Brushing back the fuzz of her hair. Soothing her screams as he would do every day after.

    His oath had been to her first. Protect and defend. It's what he'd done. Uncle Shane wouldn't let Lucy down . . . He never would.

   The hat plopped down on her head before she realized. The shade of the baseball cap offered a shade she welcomed. Eyes widening slightly to make up for the dimming of the light. She blinked up at the culprit. Her uncle stood above her with a shrug. "Thought ya would have wanted that back by now," she told him. Voice low, and still clouded with the misery of the day.

He had gotten tired of waiting out her mood. Trying a different tactic and coming to her as her dad would have done. It both filled a missing piece in her heart and intensified the gaping hole left there. "Hmm, keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

She cracked a smile. Eyes crinkling at the side. "It hides your big head though."

Shane shook his head. Eyes lighter than the clouds in that moment. The chuckle which escaped his lips was enough to fill Lucy's heart with joy. "Is that so?" He twirled the hilt of the hat. Ficking it with his fingers before pushing it down further on her head.

She whistled through her nose. She propped up her knees to see him better. "I guess you'll be alright. So long as you don't go bald." Lucy raised her eyebrows, but it was Shane who laughed again. Blocking most of the sun from her face.

"I'll be making no promises little miss." He leaned back. Placing the gun beside him as he regarded her with new interest. "Maybe you and your brother could persuade me together. Course ya'd have to nice for that one. Hell, the mischief you two could get up to. I'm already fearing it."

    Lucy groaned, resting her head back on her hands. That had been Shane's goal from the beginning, she realized. Bridge the divide between the two Grimes siblings just as her father had always done. A hard pill to swallow . . . A hole the size of a pickup truck slammed into her chest.

     "He misses your dad. Just as much as you do. Reckon you both have that in common if nothing else."He wasn't Rick Grimes. He wasn't even a similar substitute. The two partners were often as different as night and day —but what stuck out to Lucy the most was the attempt. He wasn't Rick Grimes, and he'd never be Rick Grimes, but Shane was her uncle, and besides her father and brother, he was the man she loved the most."Sides, think it might give your momma some peace of mind. Knowing her kids aren't on the opposite side of everything."

Loving him was as easy as loving the rest of the Grimes family. He'd always been there. Always looked out for her before everything and everyone, and he was trying his hardest. He never liked it when Carl and Lucy fought before they all set up camp in the Quarry.

    She sighed, handing him the stick she was drawing with. "Fine, fine, but I'm just letting you know now that if he kicks me again I'm gonna throw dirt in his face. Maybe if he's blinded he'll learn to respect his sister better." He laughed, slapping his knee as she passed him, and headed off in the direction of her mother and brother's chestnut locks.

    She didn't have to look far. Like the creatures of habit they were, Lori and Carl were at the center of camp. Just behind Dale's RV. Her mom was hanging up the clothes she had washed to dry, and Carl running around in a circle around her. Creating a circle while he dragged his sneakers through the dirt.

     Stopping in front of them, Lucy rolled her eyes at Carl's antics. Her mom looked up from the monstrous pile of laundry she had next to her. Carl paused his run around to blink at Lucy in the curious way he always did when he was awaiting something. Course he wouldn't apologize first. He never did, always waiting till Lucy caved and rose to the challenge of being the bigger person. Part of her wanted to wait him out. See if he would ever apologize. But she promised Uncle Shane, and her mom had more on her plate without the added burden of playing buffer to Lucy and Carl fighting.

    Besides, being the bigger person had been in the cards for Lucy since her brother was born. Birth order declared it such. "I'm sorry, 'bout yelling at you," she told him, dragging her foot a bit. "Shouldn't 'ave done that."

    Carl blinked at her again. Eyes wide and gazing back at Lori. Probably for directions on what to do. He always looked to their mom for what to do. Lori hummed softly, voice soft as she probed Lucy for more. The girl rolled her eyes, but did as her mother wanted and continued on. "And I'm sorry I threw ya to the ground, and called ya an idiot."

Even if it was true most of the time—but she was leaving that part out.

   "Thank you, Luce." Lori smiled at her daughter. Although the bags under her eyes prevented the smile from being truly blinding. "Now, Carl what do you say?"

    "Uhhh, thanks."

     "Carl . . ."

    He brushed his hair back, sticking his neck out. "Okay, geez. I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to leave the music on." He blinked again. Nose wiggling but he continued forward with a little push from their mom. "And I'm sorry I kicked ya, but you weren't letting me tell ya what happened, and I got mad."

   "We'll be keeping our legs to ourselves from now on," Lori hummed. Flipping a shirt onto the clothes line and brushing out the wrinkles. "Won't we kids?"

     "Yes Mom," they both droned on at the same time. Matching grins enough to forget the quarrel once their mom was in one of her lecture moods again. Things were better with Carl around, even if Lucy wouldn't ever be caught dead saying that out loud.

"Well," Lori clapped her hands together. The smile was back on her face as she finished hanging the last shirt on the line. "I believe this calls for a celebration! It's as good a day as any to get to that haircut—"

The siblings both groaned. She stared at each other as she said those words. She'd been bugging them about a haircut for a week, and she wasn't wrong. Lucy's bangs had gotten long. And her mind was already made up. They'd be getting that haircut. No matter what either of them thought.

• • •

DULL CLOUDS ENCOMPASSED THE SKYLINE. Bloated with fat droplets of water which looked about ready to burst and send rain pouring down on the survivors. Lucy hated it. Their dreary presence infected the camp's already anxious spirits with a rather somber mood. Even well into the afternoon, they refused to part. Capturing the sun and holding it hostage until the camp returned to normal.
Although, Lucy wasn't even sure what normal was anymore. With the news of the supply group's impending doom, people had forgone their chores in favor of hovering by the radio. Naively praying for some sort of miracle to save their loved ones from being eaten alive in Atlanta.

     Or worse, bitten and turned into another monster.

    Lucy shuddered at the thought, head resting on her knees as she watched the others move around camp in a failed attempt at normalcy. The journal Amy lent to her was long discarded by her heel in favor of drawing in the mud with a stick. She could barely read the words on the page anyway, despite Amy's reassurance that it wouldn't matter. The letters were recognizable, but her brain was unable to connect them to real coherent words and sounds. Her mind was far too active to settle down and read the words. Rain began to drizzle down on the campers around midday. The weather which used to fill the teenager with elation, was a true marker of fast-approaching fall. But her joy was only fruitful back when the season signified warm coffees, horror movies, and pumpkin patches with her family.

     With the state of the world collapsing around her. It was safe to say that rain as the token of fall no longer offered her the same joy. Instead filling her up with an unruly anxiety and an unrelenting promise of winter looming. They'd need a better place to hold up by then, the makeshift camp filled with tents, potholes, and god knows what else lurking in the surrounding woods, would not be sufficient for the winter. They'd all die of starvation and hypothermia, and that would be only if the geeks and bears didn't get to them first. A terrifying thought even Lori's reassurance couldn't fix.

      Lucy often dreamt of a haven. Maybe a house where her family could live and be normal again. The four of them; Lucy, her mom, Carl, and . . . her dad. He was still a frequent visitor in her dreams, and he always would be if Lucy had her say. After all, her dreams were a place where the impossible became possible. If she wanted to paint a pretty picture of her family together, no one could stop her. Not even Carl's accident. Killing the battery of her iPod—the one memory other than the compass she had of her father—could kill that dream. The cold stare she fixed the younger Grimes with earlier that day long since wore off in favor of keeping the peace. But truly it was the bleak atmosphere of the campers that did little to help build up her morale.

     The way Carl had been colder about their father ever since learning the supply group wouldn't return.
No matter how hard she tried to shake it, Lucy was unable to forget her brother's words. The nonchalant approach to talking about their father's death, and the evilness of the person who did it. Carl couldn't be growing cold in this world already could he? He was only twelve years old, his childhood being ripped from his grasp every time the group put the needs of the many over the needs of the few.

    Lucy's mom's insistence on giving the kids a haircut was more and more necessary by the minute. Giving the whole family something to do other than sit and worry. Even Shane came over and parked himself in the chair across from Lori. The two shared a secret grin at the way Lucy let Carl win the rock-paper-scissors contest on who got to get their haircut first. The anxiety they always seemed to carry with them far from their minds. Instead, a sort of peace settled over the two adults, and an understanding that they would do whatever was necessary to protect the young kids in their charge.

   The peace was fleeting but charged with electricity. Lucy knew the moment was best spent basking in the light it left behind. Ignoring the wave of sadness washing over her before it became a storm. They were a family, not whole, but fulfilled, and she could make peace with that—most days. Shane sure seemed to be able to.

"Baby," called Lori's voice. Carl sat on the ground in front of her as she trimmed the hair around his eyes. "The more you fidget, the longer it takes."

"I'm trying," he whined and then Carl moved again. He shrugged his shoulders and drummed his fingers on his knee. In all the years she knew him Lucy never knew to able to sit still for longer than a few minutes. His restless youth fleeting, and time of the essence. It moved so fast yet so slow. Already he was twelve years old, and soon, he'd enter his terrible teens. It was horrifying and exciting. Seeing him grow up the way she did.

Maybe one day he'd grow out of his annoying streak. "Hey, he doesn't need that eye anyway," Lucy joked. This caused Carl to sit up. Spine straightening at her implications. Lucy's mom cracked a smile, snapping away at the hair by his eyes now that Carl was still.

   "If you both think this is bad, wait till you start shaving." Shane pointed to Carl, and then back at his wild stubble.

   Lucy whistled through her nose, leaning forward to better look at her uncle's nonexistent beard. "Geez, you better get that beard trimmed or the geeks will mistake you for one of them."

    Lori snorted, eyes welling with tears as she stopped cutting Carl's hair to reach over and high-five her daughter. Shane gave her a purposeful look, to which Lori responded with a sweet smile. "That's how we know you are my girl," Lori said, still wiping the tears from her eyes.

    Shane ignored both of them, as they continued to laugh, but Lucy caught the small smile playing on his lips. Even Carl joined in when he noticed his mom wasn't stopping. "Yeah, yeah. My point is it stings. The day comes and you'll be wishing for one of your momma's haircuts."

   "Carl better not think 'bout ever growing a beard. Make him look like Santa Claus" She smiled at her brother to which he responded by sticking his tongue out at her.

     How lovely.

   Shane chuckles, shifting the gun he's been cleaning to his left side. "You'd be surprised Lou, and it won't be long till he does." Carl squints a bit, no doubt trying to picture himself older with a beard. One day he would grow up, and be more of a man than a boy. Looking at her brother now, Lucy hoped the change wouldn't happen too quickly. Maturing a bit would be fine with her if he could still stay young and cute in the process. "I'll tell you what. You just get through this with some manly dignity and tomorrow I'll teach you something special."

   "What?" Carl and Lucy both asked, leaning forward on the edge of their logs in anticipation.

    "I will teach you to catch frogs." Lucy made a face. Leaning back against the log. What a joy that would be! She had no interest in catching one of those slimy things.

     "I've caught a frog before," Carl said, eyes squinting. He bobbed forward again, Lori nearly taking out his eye with the pair of scissors as he did. She repositioned him. An apologetic look plastered across his freckled face.

       Lucy remembered that day, two summers ago when he came into the house with a frog and mud all over him. Lori was angry that he dragged mud on the carpets, but Carl still looked triumphant as he placed his new pet in a box in his room. That night, Rick patted Carl on the back and promised him they would take the frog back to the pond the next day and he would teach him to fish instead.

     "I said frogs—Plural. And it is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly . . . Like my beard." There was a childlike glint in his eyes.  A joke only he and Lucy were in on. As the hat he gave her rested on her head. "There are ways and means few people know about, and I'm willing to share my secrets. An offer for you too young lady." Both were looking at Lucy, Carl with excitement, and Shane with an energy she hadn't seen in him since her father died. But Lucy looked back on the day Carl caught that frog, and the proud look in her father's eye.

Part of her wanted to say yes, just to witness the happiness that would blind both their faces. But a bigger part of her. The one afraid of a slimy frog family seeking revenge on her for terrorizing their young, couldn't bring herself to do it. "No thanks, that sounds pretty disgusting." Besides, she'd just hang out with her mom instead. Maybe they could braid her hair? Or do something with Sophia and Carol?

Lori was holding her hand against her mouth. Chest shaking with laughter. She'd been giddy for the past hour or so. The glow upon her face was a welcome change from the doom that often rested there. "Oh, I'm a girl. You talk to him." Her mom had said when Carl looked at her, turning his face back around to get the hair by his ears.

Shane shrugged, running the rag with oil over his shotgun. The weapon came away shiny and smelling of lemon and dust. "It's a one-time offer bud. Not to be repeated." Though Lucy doubted that. Uncle Shane would catch frogs for eternity just to see Carl smile.

  "Why do we need frogs, plural?"

  Shane held up his gun, cleaning the underneath now. "You ever eat frog legs?" He winked at Lori who shook her head. Laughing at how absurd he was being.

  "Eww," both Lucy and Carl said at the same time. Making an almost identical face.

   "No, yum!"

"No, they're right. Eww," Lori made a similar face to her children, repositioning Carl's head again to not take an eye out.

  "When we get down to that last can of beans, you're gonna be loving those frog legs lady." Shane's grin broadened into a full smile, "I can see it now. 'Shane do you think I could have a second helping, please'?" he mimicked, in a goofy woman's voice. But it got her to laugh even harder. The cop was grinning from ear to ear.

  "Yeah, I doubt that." Lori shook her head, smiling in disbelief. Her hair was pulled back in a half-up up half-down style. The turquoise earrings she got the Mother's Day before, dangling from her ears, brought out the green of her hazel speckled eyes.

Shane stared at her. As if she hung the moon and stars themselves. She was beautiful. Lucy knew her to be, and it was only natural for Shane to admire her strength. He always told Rick how he loved Lori for creating his two favorite people in the world. Lucy's dad shook his head and laughed at Shane's insistence that they were all hers and not his. Cause they weren't ugly like Rick. The pair of them always got a kick out of that. Lucy's dad claimed it was a good thing they didn't have his nose. Shane agreed. Although, Lucy always believed her father's nose to be dignified. Perfectly him.

"Don't listen to your mom and sister, man. You and me will be heroes. We'll feed these folks cajon-style Kermit's legs."

"I would rather eat Miss Piggy." Lori frowned when both Lucy and Shane were staring at her, trying to stifle their laughter. "Yes, that came out wrong." 

"Heroes son," Shane said to Carl, who was oblivious to the joke the three of them were laughing at. He laughed. Hard. Harder than he had in a while. "You and me, Shane and Carl—"

  "BEEP! BEEP!" A piercing screech hit Lucy's ears. The noise was distant and weak, but growing stronger by the moment. As it grew closer and closer—someone was coming up the hill toward camp. By the drumming of the sound, they were moving fast. At breakneck speed.

Lucy stood up at the same time Shane did. She shot her uncle a look, but he held his gun close to his chest, and he pushed her further back. Behind him. The whole family was behind him as he pushed forward. Toward Dale who looked out over the top. Binoculars clutched in his hands and hope clutched in his heart. "Talk to me Dale," he said in his low 'I'm a cop' voice.

Dale was already expecting his presence. Humming in acknowledgment as he scanned the mountain. Trying to locate the fast-moving sound as it zipped in and out of view. "Hmm, I can't tell yet—"

    "Is it them?" Amy asked hurriedly, gripping Oliver's hand below the RV. The two of them were close to the ladder, and close to the radio all afternoon. "Are they back?" Her words were quick. As if lingering too long on the question would cause her pain.

    Dale let out a huff of air. He brought the binoculars down from his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'll be damned. A stolen car." The sigh of relief was intoxicating. Lucy grinned and gave a thumbs-up to Amy. Who could barely contain her excitement. "Looks like Glenn and Sidney," he said, staring down at Oliver with soft eyes.

The older man's face paled. Almost falling over in Amy's arms. Legs going weak and shoulders slumping. He hadn't realized how much stress he carried in his body since T-Dog's distress call. Shane's insistence there was no way to go after the others. They'd have to face whatever came to them alone.

   Even Lucy's uncle smiled as he took in the news. Holding his shotgun looser and toward the ground as the camp celebrated. News traveling around and bringing the others close like a game of telephone. Lucy's mom and brother ended up beside her. Lori was hugging Miranda who was crying tears of relief at her husband's return.

   The sky was clear, and for the first time in a while. The camp felt triumphant. There were still wins to be had even when the world felt bleak.

Lucy could barely contain her anticipation as the car drew closer. A red sports car upon closer inspection. Glenn in the driver's seat going well over 100mph, and a grin upon his face. Sidney beside him just as giddy as his friend. She plugged her ears as they came to a stop at the end of the road. The pair got out of the car still numb to the screech everyone else was hearing in their ears.

     Amy and Shane were the first to run over to the pair. The car was blaring so loudly that Lucy couldn't hear what either of them was saying. "Holly crap," Dale cursed, "Turn that damn thing off!" He tried climbing off the RV. Stumbling a bit by the stairs. So Lucy ran over, holding her hand out to help him down the rest of the way.

Glenn held a hand up to his ear. Amy shouting frantically on one side and Shane in the other. "We don't know how!" He told them loudly. The pair drilled the two college-aged boys for information on what happened down in the city.

At Shane's insistence, Sidney shrugged. Moving back toward the driver's seat of the car to pop the hood. Still red in the face, Shane stuck his head in the hood. Inspecting the engine, and pulling wires apart until finally Lucy's ears could breathe. A ringing noise slowly faded until it completely subsided.

"My sister! Is she okay?" Amy kept shouting. So lost in her nerves she hadn't realized the noise had stopped and yelling was no longer necessary.

  " Yeah, she's okay! They're all okay." Glenn unplugged his ears, placing a hand on the younger woman's shoulder in comfort. A thin line upon his lips at the bickering in his ears.

   "Why isn't she with you? She's okay?" Amy sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Yes!" Glenn said, voice rising before he realized and brought it back down. "Yeah, fine."

"Everybody is," Sidney confirmed, arms folded. But he was searching the crowd for something. Eyes drifting along the faces he saw, but they weren't the right faces.

   "Well," Glenn started, turning to look at his friend. Chewing on his bottom lip. "Merle not so much . . ."

  "Shouldn'thavebeensuchanassholethen." Upon seeing Sophia and Carl close by, Sidney narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "He got left behind."

  Shane sighed rubbing his head. One out of five not returning was better than nothing. And Merle Dixon wasn't exactly a camp favorite. Still, he was one of them. They were supposed to survive all together, but from the dark look in Sidney's eyes. She assumed there was more at play than simply being too slow. Her mother made Lucy promise to stay away from the Dixon brothers the moment they showed up at camp a few weeks prior. Shane felt it too. The weight of someone getting left behind. He was their de facto leader after all, and he took his job seriously. But, well he was willing to leave them all behind a few hours prior.

"Boys!" Came the voice Sidney had been looking for, and he pushed past Shane and Amy and everyone else. Toward the arms he always found home in. His grandfather was just as eager to see him as he was. A skip to the old man's step, and a quick pace he hadn't had in a long time. The cane he usually walked with was gone. Instead, he crashed into Sidney's arms. Cupping his face in his shaking hands.

There were tears in Oliver's dark chocolate-covered eyes. Twin ones to be found in the matching set in front of him. There was safety there too. A warmth lacking from Lucy's own life. Rays of sunlight were pouring over the two Harmon men and bathing them in a golden glow. The weight of the day was barely more than a paperclip. They were finally reunited, and that was all that mattered to the two of them.

Being together.

Glenn crashed into the hug next. Different from the two Harmon men but fitting into their picture like glue. Like the missing piece. Lucy knew the feeling in her gut to be jealousy. Felt like she felt the chatter of her teeth.

There was love to be found in her life too. Even if it looked different from their hug. There was still love to be found.

The weight of Merle being left didn't linger on Shane's shoulders long. Moved by the reunion as Lucy had been. But his joy didn't last as long. He rolled it off and instead focused on what was in front of him. A danger to his family. "You kids crazy driving that wailing bastard up here?"

Three faces shot up from the hug to stare at the intrusion. Tears prickling in all their eyes. No one answered right away. No one but Dale on the outside looking in. "I think we're okay," he said. Ever the peacemaker.

"You call being stupid okay?" Shane turned on him, his temper rising. Lucy noticed Sidney rolling his eyes and shooting Glenn a look, who tried to cover his smirk.

   "Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills, hard to pinpoint the source," Dale pointed out, hands on his hips. "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying. But it wouldn't hurt you two to think things through next time!" He turns on the boys, like a father reprimanding his sons.

   Oliver poked Sidney's arm lightly. Drawing the eye roll from his eyes."I'm sorry," Sidney said, holding his hands up in peace. The old man nudged Glenn next who also spat out an apology.

   "Got a cool car," Glenn says after a moment of awkward silence.

  "Bet they won't let you keep it though," Lucy said, grinning ear-to-ear. They were all okay and made it back. Well minus Merle, but things might just be looking up for the Quarry after all.

   "Ha, you're on." Glenn offered his hand, Lucy putting her own in his to shake it. From the way Shane pressed his lips together, there was no way in hell he'd let Glenn keep the sports car, but if Glenn wanted to call her bluff fine. He'd lose anyway. "You want to get in on this Sid?" Glenn asked his friend, the taller boy hanging back a bit with a stiff posture. His arm was still locked on his grandfather's shoulder.

  "No thank you, I'm entertained just watching you fail."

   Glenn smiled slowly, leaning toward Lucy in a mock whisper. "Talk about being a loser," he joked, Lucy attempting to stifle her laugh.

    "Glenn." He raised his eyebrow.

    "Dude. Lighten up," Glenn said bouncing on his feet. "Such a buzzkill sometimes, ya know that?"

    A weird stinging sensation found Lucy's gut, the smile previously on her face fading fast. Amy, who did not share Lucy's sadness, noticed the truck pulling up first, running toward the van which no doubt held the other survivors. "Andrea!" She screeched, jumping into the equally excited blonde woman's arms who came racing out of the truck.

    "Amy, oh Amy," she tried to explain, voice wet with tears. Her and Amy's. Where one sister ended and the other began was almost impossible to distinguish in their state.

     Morales exited the truck next. His kids ran toward them before he scooped them up in his arms. Just as Rick used to do to his kids. It wasn't fair, Lucy thought, kicking the ground in front of her to stop the tears from falling down her face. What was wrong with her? She was happy for the return of the supply group. The reunion of so many families. Yet, all she wanted to do was climb into her sleeping bag and cry for a week.

     The choked cry she heard drew her out of her head. Turning around to face her own family, the grief was still raw in their hearts. Carl, who missed his father like he'd miss a displaced limb, was red in the face. Huge rain cloud worthy tears, streaming down his face. Lori was wiping the ones she could catch gently. Yet her own eyes welled with the same tears as her son's. Tears for a husband long since gone—a wound still as ugly and raw as the day it happened eleven weeks prior.

      Her steps toward her mother and brother were slow, kicking up dirt as she attempted to calm her breathing before reaching the pair. It would do no one any good for her to be a mess as well, especially not when Carl needed the support of both his mother and sister right now. Lori kissed Lucy's cheek, pulling the girl the rest of the way into their hug. Despite their family being incomplete, Lucy still had a mother who loved her more than life itself.

    What more could a girl ask for?

   "Hey helicopter boy! Come say hello." Morales hollered to the figure still inside the truck. A man from what Lucy could make out from the distance. The sun was blocking her vision. He moved slowly. With the kind of pain only grief brought about. The shine of the badge on his chest caught in the sunlight and reflected in Lucy's eyes. Just as blinding as the sun had been.

    With no limb to reach out and pull the other man from the car. Morales turned toward Shane. Both his kids were glued to each side of his body. Twin smiles erupting from their faces. Morales with a twinkle to match their own. "Guy's a cop. Like you," he explained. The reason behind the badge becoming more apparent. It's shine still as overwhelming as the first moment she saw it. And still as blinding.

     In the first few weeks that the camp was getting established, it wasn't rare for a new group to be brought in, or for someone to come across the camp on their own. But over the last month, the camp hasn't had any new members join. Glenn explained to her one night how abandoned the city was. No one smart went in there, not anymore. The figure who exited the truck kept his head down.  All she could see was a combination of brown curls and a sheriff's badge. The badge twinkled against the sun's rays and matched with a King's Country Sheriff's uniform.

      A wave of déjà vu hit Lucy at full speed. Memories of her father coming home every night in that exact uniform plagued her mind. Every time the siblings heard the telltale sound of the key rattling in the door, they would jump up. Carl shouted "Dad!" As his tiny body carried him toward his dad. Ready to be scooped up in his arms.

       Wait a minute... Carl's voice wasn't a cruel memory playing on repeat but his actual voice. And the sound of his feet hitting the dirt wasn't her imagination but truly him running toward the figure.
Lucy blinked, once and then twice, the figure taking shape into the man who helped create her. A man she believed to be dead.

     "Dad?" She whispered, hot tears falling down her face as Carl crashed into him. Taking them both down to the floor. The man—no, her father, scooped the boy up into his arms. His eyes focused on Lucy, and his body moved both him and Carl toward her. She moved forward, legs shaking, and mouth held open, catching the tears falling like snowflakes on the tongue.  

   "Daddy!" She yelled, voice hoarse, but Rick's muffled cry was the only response she needed. Lucy crashed into her father, taking in the sweet aroma of his scent before it overwhelmed her senses. Buckling her knees, she hit the floor fast. But Rick scooped her up in his arms as well, even though she was way too big for that to be working comfortably. None of the three recipients of the hug cared too much about that.

  Rick mumbled incoherently into Lucy's neck, his warm breath tickling the skin there. Still, even hugging him now, Lucy couldn't wrap her head around him being real, about him being alive. "You found us," she cried out, unsure whether he even understood her incoherent cries. "You really found us . . ."

   From the way he tightened his grip on his eldest child, a part of him understood her words perfectly. And that was all that mattered. "I found you," he muttered over and over again in response. Almost like it was a prayer he told himself, every night of their separation. The tears falling from his face hit Lucy's shoulder, mixing with both hers and Carl's tears. Rick continued to mutter incoherently. His children were held in his grasp after almost three months apart.

    Three months that Lucy believed her dad to be dead, and now he was here.

    Lori stood frozen behind them, eyes wide and face ghostly pale. She flinched when Rick made a move toward her, before realizing her reluctance and accepting the warm embrace he offered. Their two children nestled between the protection of both parents again.

    A dream come true, one Lucy never imagined to be possible. Rick Grimes wasn't only alive, but he was home with his family. Their hearts all stitched back up instantaneously. Every single squeeze a reminder of his living and breathing form.

     The Grimes family was back together again. Who would have thought?

⋆˚✿˖° ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆⋆˚✿˖°

. . .

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading! Please remember to vote and comment on the chapter if you enjoyed it. I am so proud of the reunion scene cause I was dreading writing it and imagined the scene would turn out horribly. However, it's my favorite scene I've written so far.
Rewritten Author's Note:

Honestly, there's not much to say this time around as there was a huge aspect of the chapter I didn't have to do much rewriting to (the reunion scene) just some tweaking. Most of the work came in the early segment of the chapter. Sidney's portion as there was a lot more I needed to tweak because his plans for season one weren't developed well in the original version. I wanted to add more of a reunion for him and Gramps even if it was underwhelming because it's from Lucy's perspective and she has no real emotional connection to either of them.

Fear not, there will be a lot more content between Gramps and Sidney soon! Next chapter will probably be entirely from Lucy's perspective but there's a very cute scene between her and Rick there that I'm excited to rewrite because they are seriously one of my favorite dynamics in the whole book!

I think the biggest difference in this chapter is that I added more of the bond between Shane and Lucy. Especially with that scene where he acts very fatherly toward her. This is intentional because I think he starts to lose it. After all, he feels everything he had is ripped from his grasp, and now at the end of the world, he has nothing left. He wanted Rick's life. His wife, his kids—he became Rick and felt the love of Rick's family. He won't so easily let that go (as we see in the show). More of the dynamic between Lucy, Rick, and Shane will be explored soon!

I made poster boards for A2A that I shared on my TikTok but I also wanted to share here too because I'm very proud. The idea was for it to resemble those DVDs that were popular to buy of your favorite shows in the 2010s before streaming services became popular.

LOVE YOU ALL <3