Is This Real? (Nick Clark X OC) Fear The Walking Dead

Different From The Dead

         The two people that were being towed behind their boat were then attached onto the Abigail to pull along. Strand didn't like it, but Alicia had at least convinced him to let the two drag behind. Well that's what Frankie thought. Not many hours after hitching them to the Abigail by rope, Strand comes stomping angrily out holding a machete.

          "Strand!" Madison yells at him. He raises it in the air and wacks down on the rope, stranding the survivors out at sea once again. He doesn't say a word and goes back to his captain's room. Frankie and Nick follow him in. 

          "What the hell was that?" Frankie says, crossing her arms.

         "A safety precaution."

         "Well that doesn't seem to involve their safety does it? They'll die out there. And if they manage to keep breathing they'll still die. They'll lose a part of themselves out there."

          "What makes you say that?"

          "Solitude. It doesn't do the mind any good. It just hurts you more. They're out there alone. And pretty soon it'll just be her."

          "How would you know that?" There's a pause. Nick looks down at Frankie.

          "You don't have to answer that." Frankie gives Strand a death glare and stays silent.

          "I propose an idea." Strand changes the subject and picks up a pen. He writes an address on a scrap piece of paper. "Since you have grown to hate me recently Frankie, how about you get away from me for a day." He hands the paper out in front of her. Nick grabs it instead.

         "What's this?"

         "A man lives in that address that's crucial to our trip to Mexico. I've been contacting him, and he expects a visit from me tomorrow. You two will go there and get him yourselves and bring him back to the Abigail by the boat he has. Oh, and make sure to tell him you're with me, or he might shoot you."

         "Ok Strand, we'll go." Frankie quietly mutters. Nick nods agreeing. They leave the control room, out to the deck. "Should we tell Alicia, or Madison we're leaving?"

         "No, they'll stop us. They'll barely notice we're gone. We'll be in and out quick anyways."

        "So how should we do this? Do we bring the small boat? We're pretty close to shore."

        "We swim." Nick takes a tiny ziploc bag and sticks the paper with the address inside. They walk to the lowest part of the deck.

        "Here," Frankie hands Nick a knife inside a casing. "You'll need it."

        "What about you?" She holds up a chain she got from the crash site. He nods with an impressed face. Then he dives into the water. Frankie jumps after him. She thrashes around  slightly then stabilizes out. They begin swimming to shore. Eventually they don't have to swim and the waves carry them. Frankie slams into the sand below her by a wave pushing her. She gets up on her feet wobbly and looks all around her.

        "Nick!" She shouts. He appears out of the waves, and gets on his feet, coughing.

       "I guess the small boat might've been a better idea." He laughs.

        "C'mon." She puts her arm around his shoulder and they walk to the nearby camp they can see. There's a message written in rocks that spells 'SOS'. The camp is built out of hundreds of small tents, yet it looks abandoned of any life. Infected are wandering every few tents. They quickly pick up the pace and start silently running to the nearest tent. They get inside and zip the flap up. One of the dead ambles over to them and presses against the tent's door.

        "What do we do now?" Frankie whispers.

        "I have an idea, but I don't like it. And neither will you."

        "Oh no, what is it?" Nick doesn't answer and crawls closer to the dead man clawing at the flap door. Nick grabs the man by the face and holds him still. He raises the knife Frankie gave him and stabs it in the head. It falls to the ground outside. He unzips the flap and drags it inside, closing the fabric door behind him.

         "You aren't gonna like this." He closes his eyes tightly shut and takes the knife high in the air. He stabs down and cuts the stomach of the man open.

         "Where is this idea going?" Nick gags from the smell. "Smells like shit." She adds.

         "Kinda the point." He digs his hands deeper inside the man's guts. "The idea is that if we look like them, and smell like them, they won't be able to tell the difference. They'll leave us alone. You saw that the dead didn't attack me back at the crash site."

          "You want us..." She looks over at the body and then back at Nick. "...to bathe in this man's blood?"

          "If it makes it any better-"

          "Don't." Frankie stops him. "It won't help." She is about to put her hands in the guts, but flinches back and breathes heavily. She faces away from the body and her breathing rapidly increases. "I can't-" She mumbles. "This used to be somebody. This used to be a person........................Do it for me instead."

          "What?"

         "This is the easiest way, right? Blend in. We won't have to fight. Put it on me." Nick sighs and takes his hands out of the organs. He hesitates, hovering his hands over her face.

        "Are you sure?" She nods. "Sorry..." He then smothers the blood over her face down to her shoulders, being careful not to get it in her mouth or eyes. The blood is still slightly warm, meaning the man must have died not too long ago. The iron in the liquid causes the whole tent to fill with the smell of copper. Nick smothers himself next.

        Both of them sit in the tent now, not appearing any different from the dead outside, other than their eyes. Their eyes weren't dead and glazed over in the lifeless manner like the infected had. No, they were more full of life than ever, especially now. If you stare long into them, you can practically see the adrenaline pumping through them.

        Nick grabs her hand and they both stand up, in front of the tent. They set off for the address.