Fading (The Walking Dead FanFic)

Chapter 3

A gun fired. Jess knew what came next. She knew what was going to happen in the holy house the group had taken as living quarters. She knew that if she had opened the door, there would be blood littering the hardwood floor and weapons soaked with souls. She knew what came next, and she denied it as the day denied the night. 

There was noise on both sides: Father Gabriel shouting about the lord's house and Rick replying with a sinful answer. Although Jess could hear, in that moment all she felt she could do was see. She was right about the blood, but she did not realize that Rick and the others were butchering the former Terminus residents just as they had butchered those they required to survive. Her mind went blank for a moment, unsure of how to treat the situation in which her faith had been ripped from underneath her. 

Rick came to stand beside her, requesting that the bodies be taken outside to be burned. She could feel him watching her from the corner of his eyes as he usually did. Carl watched the two of them intently, holding the baby Judith in his arms. Jess stepped the slightest bit away from Rick, causing him to flinch as if in pain. Carl only nodded, being that just the day before he had told Jess not to touch his father because, in his heart, his mother was not dead. 

"I have to get some air." Jess announced quietly, mostly to herself. 

"That's not a good idea." Rick said. It seemed like he meant to give a suggestion, but it came out as more of an order. "You should stay here while we clean this up." 

"Why?" Jess narrowed her eyes, looking directly into Rick's own blue ones. "Why would I need to stay here while you're cleaning? Why would I need to breathe in the stench of blood?" Rick didn't answer, so Jess repeated. "I'm going to get some air."

The sound of a gun's safety going off rang in her ears. "That's not a good idea." Rick's voice was darker this time, much more threatening. She turned to face a gun aimed between her eyebrows. Everyone was watching them.

"You think you're gonna stop me by pointing a gun at my head? I think you need to think again, Grimes. I could break your wrist before the bullet even leaves that gun." She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the cold metal. "I'm gonna get some fresh air." The heels of her heavy work boots clicked as she exited the house that used to be holy. 

She could hear them: the Walkers. She could hear their feet shuffling against the rough forest floor and their hungry breaths. They'd heard the gunshots already. Why would they think it was safe here? Jess asked herself repeatedly, the words slowly coming out of her mouth each time. Someone stood outside with her, but she hadn't turned to see who it was. She took to hiding her face in her hands, scrubbing it as if there was some invisible filth she needed to get off.

"You know," Jess recognized that voice. "He cares about you." It was Carl. He drummed his fingers on his worn jeans, then chuckled to himself. "I don't want him to, but he does."

Jess looked at him. The young boy, who was more mature than any adult she'd met before this whole mess started. "I've only known him for a month now."

"He asks me about you," Carl continued as if he hadn't heard her. "If I like you, or whatever. If you could replace my mom: that stuff."

"I don't want to." 

"I know that." He sounded just like his father in that moment. "I know." He stood to go inside. "But you need to, okay? For him." 

When Jess was about to reply, the weathered white church doors closed as if they were never open.