SURVIVE.
❝ Let the end of the world be
inside you, then you don't
need to fear the end
of the world out there. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK ONE of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 1 - 3 ]
******
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[ xix. for whom the bell tolls ]
october 29th, 2010
➸➸➸
"YOU DIDN'T FIND HER? It's been hours!"
Carol Peletier's shrill cry tore painfully through Astrid as she pulled herself back over the interstate railing for the fourth time that day. Once, she had climbed it in pursuit of Sophia. Then, a second time, to return to the group and reveal that Sophia had become lost. Then, a third jump over, to reexamine the scene of the creek with Rick—alongside Daryl, Glenn, and Shane in tow. And, finally, a fourth, to ultimately tell Sophia's mother that despite finding her once, they could not find her again.
"Her trail went cold," Rick informed grimly. "We're going to start the search back up first thing tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning? What about tonight?" Carol pleaded. Tears had long since begun to stream down the woman's face, and now left marks in the grime on her cheeks. "She's . . . She's only twelve. She can't take care of herself out there! My—My little girl out there in the woods by herself for an entire night?"
"Huntin' in the dark's no good," Daryl insisted as he stepped up beside Astrid. She, the hunter, and the sheriff stood in an exhausted row, covered in dirt and blood from a horrendous journey clawing through the forest for footprints—for any tracks at all that might have belonged to a fleeing little girl. "We'd jus' be trippin' over ourselves."
"We're going to find her, Carol," Astrid attempted to kindly soothe. She felt drained of any energy, and she feared it would reveal itself in her tone. "She is brave enough to handle this."
"She shouldn't have to!" Carol exclaimed as she looked sharply between Astrid and Rick. "How could you both just leave her?" She snapped. "She's just a child!"
Astrid winced at the anger, at the agony of expression Carol sent her way. Nothing she said at all would suffice to mend the mother's broken heart—but she tried, anyway. "Rick was outnumbered on his own," She murmured. "We had to lead the walkers away to keep Sophia safe."
"And look at my little girl now," Carol whimpered. "She doesn't deserve this!"
Astrid knew that more anger and grief lingered on the tip of the mother's tongue. Carol continued to glare at her through her tears, devastated, and the Lancaster woman could not take the growing guilt that had festered deeper. She already felt poorly enough. She turned away from the crowd that had gathered near the highway railing, unable to face the raw pain in Carol's eyes any longer. Astrid could not be there anymore, could not bear to hear the cries that escaped Carol's mouth, knowing it was her actions that were now responsible for them.
Astrid waited until she was alone, nearly a quarter mile down the road before she began to cry. Harsh, gut-wrenching sobs escaped her lips, and she clutched at her chest, feeling her heart beat irrationally quickly against her ribcage. There was nothing she could do to stop it except to allow herself to go through it.
