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Ch. 26 - Long Dozen

Darkness is a relentless competitor when digging into the depths of your mindset for the slightest bit of optimism. A single positive outlook shines at the limit of a never-ending tunnel of dead fucks and scraps of regurgitated flesh, a twinkling light beckoning the survivor within me closer and closer with a curled finger. But the hands of the undead reach me faster than my destination in a frigid and unwelcomed touch, contact only lasts a second when it occurs and I take them out with my trusty knife, which was packed away in the depths of the duffel bag.

Thirteen days. The last two were without food and had a minimal water supply. My stockpile spreads as thin as my patience with each step I take on the beaten path before me. An apprehensive long dozen spent on constant defense, eyes peeled in every direction with a sense of hyperawareness to ensure I reach my destination, wherever that may be. After leaving Soul I backtracked toward The Sanctuary, or what I thought was the right direction. Staying on any main road is a risky move as it is the main route for travelers and potential enemies. I've been forced into the woods time and time again throughout my trek. First by a group on horses, each individual atop the steeds decorated in body armor that protected vital organs from adversaries. Then a lone man with a long trench coat and hair to his mid-back topped perfectly with a worn beanie.

Now again, a fleet of cars followed by a large rusted truck, racing by a mere hundred feet away from where I stand hidden behind a rotting tree trunk. Rumbling engines occupy the air around me, surely drawing the attention of walkers within the vicinity, so I smack my back against the peeling bark and scan the area around me with my knife securely in my palm. As the rolling motors pass me by I push myself away from the tree and hike back into the street, watching as the cars fly down the street toward a clear destination.

The truck looks familiar the smaller it becomes in the distance. An open back door with dangling plastic strips dancing in the wind as the vehicle picks up speed on the vacant road. When it hits the curve of the road, I notice a small but prominent letter A spray painted on the side paneling of the truck.

I sprint as fast as I can toward the convoy, given my nutrition has not been what it should be over the past thirteen days. My energy quickly dissipates after running for what feels like forever. Still, I'm able to determine after following for a mere few minutes that the group is headed toward The Sanctuary.

Familiarity creeps around me before encapsulating my memory. The distinct treeline fades into low bushes then eventually vanishes into the gritty pathway that I've heard kick up against the underbelly of Negan's truck time and time again. A plume of smoke is visible before any semblance of the structure of The Sanctuary peeks into view.

Panic flows through my bloodstream as naturally as the blood in my veins itself.

Trepidation seeps into my thoughts, entangling any hopes I had of seeing Negan alive, constricting and choking the remaining optimism before bringing my buoyancy to a screeching halt.

As the peak of the rundown factory emerges from the horizon, the same thundering roar of vehicles greets the ominous backdrop against the road sans box truck. They blow by where I stand on the side of the road and I catch a glimpse of those within the doors of the vehicles.

Michonne. Rosita. Daryl.

When they are behind me, I turn again and jog toward their location of departure to face the now-revealed Sanctuary, swallowed whole by a starved crowd of dead weight. The smoke winds through the air to a single point, the side of the building, where the box truck is smashed against the dark brick wall. The herd is assembling at the crash site in search of open opportunities and fresh blood.

"Negan," the words escape my lips in a hush. My lip trembles as reality comes crashing down with its relentless force, squashing my final wisps of hope underneath its leather boot and smearing aspiration across the gravel road.