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

Burning Pile

song - burning pile (slowed) by mother mother

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(Frankie's POV)

                 Frankie holds a large jug of vodka in her hands, lightly pouring some of the liquid on the house's hardwood floors as she walks about the place. She holds one of her jacket's sleeves up to her nose, trying to block out the scent. She finds herself unable to do so and vomits on the ground. The smell of vodka always brings her terrible nausea, since she associates it so closely to her father. Unfortunately, it's the only alcohol in the house.

                Troy's in a room close by, rummaging through the drawers and shelves, checking if there's anything important to take. They both have their bags on their backs, filled with the few supplies they were given beforehand. Frankie finishes off the bottle and knocks on the door to the room he's in.

                "Hey," She softly greets. He glances over his shoulder at her, then goes back to running his hands over one of the walls. What is he looking for?

                "Hey," He repeats what she said back, still sounding lost in thought. "If I remember correctly there should be a.....a type of gun.....in one of the walls around here." He clicks a panel in and a hatch opens up, revealing a large weapon with giant bullets wrapped around it on a strap. He grabs it, and puts it on.

               "What kind of fucked up stuff, are we gonna do with that?" She asks him, raising an eyebrow. He spins around and walks closer to her, placing a hand on the doorway and leaning on it.

              "I don't know. Better safe than sorry." He wipes his nose and shrugs. "Can never be too safe. Who knows? I might just save your life again." He gives a small smile, trying his best to lighten the mood. The last two days have been dark ones, emotionally exhausting. The both of them want a break from the darkness, at least a little bit, but they have found that difficult. He really is trying his best to make me feel better. No. Both of us feel better. Frankie grins in return with him, appreciating his efforts.

             "As if." She jokes back. "C'mon, let's just hurry this up." They leave the room and go to the front door, Troy standing directly behind Frankie, waiting for her to light the fire. She flicks the lighter on and stares into the flame, wondering if this really was a good idea. What if something explodes and we both die? Oh well..... She then internally shrugs and tosses it onto the puddle of alcohol. The carpet instantly ignites and quickly spreads throughout the hallway. The flames eat and nip at the hung photos and coat the dead body at the end of the room, slowly disposing of it.

             The two then run away from the house, scared it'll explode from any leftover gas in the heat tank or oven. Frankie turns her head back to the barn directly next to the home. She sees a metal chain, loosely hanging off the door handle, unlocked. Swiftly, she runs to it and swipes it out into her hand. Troy notices her running back and chases after her. He grabs her other free hand and drags her back away from the two buildings, just before a large explosion. They fall on their backs.

            "The fuck was that for?" Troy asks her, panting out of breath from running.

            "I lost my chain a while back, when you disarmed me and Nick at the border. Wanted a new one I guess." She explains, not looking over at him but keeping her eyes on the large fire. It didn't seem like a big deal to her. I don't like having to get so up close to one of the dead with a knife. This is more distance oriented in a way.......

            After a few minutes of just laying back and observing the house fire in front of them, the dead begin to slowly roam closer. They both stand up and feel adrenaline begin to kick in. More and more dead appear, showing no sign of stopping. Fuck. We attracted a horde. Shit, shit, shit— Frankie's curses are cut off by Troy interrupting their silence.