❝ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 '𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 ❞
frannie is willing to do anything to get back to her family, but can she put her trust in strangers to do it?
[slow updates]
[book 2/4]
[glenn rhee x fem!oc]
[through...
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"Try again."
Our fast steps slow down to a stop. I rest my hands on my hips as my heart races, my entire body shaking with tremors of nerves. Rick turns on the walkie once more.
"Javi! It's not stopping. Light it up. You hear me?" He says into the radio, clicking off the button only to be greeted by crackling static, "Javier!"
A low grumble puts all of us on edge. We turn around to see a waller stumbling towards us, half of its jaw torn right off the bone. More and more are starting to wander back into the forrest. The plan is going to all hell.
"Got it." I announce, pulling out my knife.
Rick nods and sprints ahead, followed by the rest of the group trying to catch up, and a reluctant Glenn. I lunge towards the walker and pierce my blade through its eye, throwing it into the dirty ground.
As I tuck my knife back into my pocket, I hear a panicked voice call out, "Shit! Shit! It was half! Jesus, it was more than half!"
The rest of the group, consisting of the Alexandrian's that volunteered, is struggling to match the fast pace of Rick, Michonne, and Glenn, specifically the young-looking guy who's fretting over the herd. I vaguely recall his name being Sturgess.
"Keep it moving," I bark at him, forcing him forward with a harsh shove. He stumbles ahead and never seems to regain balance.
"We've just gotta stay ahead of them," A brunette woman assures Sturgess— assures the rest of the Alexandrian's running with us, "They walk, we run."
"See?" I pipe up, picking up my speed to rush past the end of the group, "She's got the spirit."
I usher the slower along us ahead as the horn continue to glare. It has yet to stop after nearly fifteen minutes. I try not to worry myself over it, although that becomes increasingly impossible given the circumstances, and keep my feet moving. If I stop, then they will too.
I manage to lead the group closer to my people after a while, but as we clamber up a hill, the brown-haired woman's foot gets caught on a stump. She lands on the ground with a sickening crunch of her ankle as it twists out of place.
"You okay?" I ask, backtracking to help her rise to her feet. Her face contorts in pain as she puts pressure on the injured ankle, "How bad does it hurt?"
