The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

eightysix.

I decided to drop in on the house where I had discovered the new attire that now adorns my frame for a small break from my adventure. The adrenaline has long worn off, leaving me immense pain. I'm sitting at the table, first aid kit laid out beside me, cleaning each wound, stitching myself back together. I have a cloth between my mouth, biting it through the pain pulsing through my body. After awhile, I finish, sighing in relief. I stalk to the kitchen sink, hoping for working water, however my hope is quickly dashed. I guess a shower will have to wait until I make it back home. Running a frustrated hand through my short hair, I remember seeing a motorcycle in the garage where I had discovered the gas can. Not wanting to walk, or limp rather, all the way back in my condition, I step inside the aforementioned room, finding the keys hanging along the wall. I turn on the ignition. It sputters to life; luck still holding out on my side. I fiddle with the gas can, topping it off inside the bike.

I force the garage door to open; a trick my mom taught me when I was younger when our own door would take a shit. I walk it out of the garage after gathering my shit from inside the house. I hike the bag around my shoulders and bow tight across my torso; mask and hood returned to my head, hiding my identity from any onlookers. Though, I'm not worried about anyone in Owen's group that might seek revenge for his demise; I'm more concerned about stumbling upon anyone who believes I'm dead. I speed out of the area like a bat out of hell. I'm ready to leave this nightmare behind and begin this new quiet chapter of my life. Owen is dead. I'm a free fucking woman.

I didn't like becoming and embracing the monster he made me out of to be. But it felt so fucking good to watch the blood pool out of his body. He played with my fire and got burnt. I came face to face the devil, coming out alive on the other side of the death match. Now, it's time to heal, be the mother my children need, and live out the rest of my days in peace. I no longer have to look over my shoulder every time I turn around, searching for my boogeyman in the dark. All I need to worry about is the dead chowing down on me and mine; somehow, that's the lesser of the evils. I'll fucking take it.

At least walkers can't pretend to be something they aren't. I know what to expect of the reanimated corpses.

After about ten minutes, I growl as the bike begins to groan and shut down on me. I pull over to the side of the road. On my knees, I begin to tinker on the vehicle, dragging the memories of Daryl working on his bike out of the dark corners of my mind, hoping this is just a quick fix because I don't have the exact tools I need for this unforeseen situation. Otherwise, I'm walking the rest of the way; which will prove to be a feat on its own given the current state of my body. I wouldn't be able to out run the dead; let alone overcome anyone that decides they want to tangle with some broken woman. I need to get back to Siddiq as soon as possible. I only created a temporary fix.

I peer over my shoulder when I hear the cracking of twigs and leaves underfoot, mask still firmly in place as I observe a familiar figure approaching in my direction. My heart stops at the sight, color draining out of my face. I knew my luck was too good to be true. Taking a deep breath, centering myself, returning to the task at hand.

"Aye," the redneck shouts, "ya need help?"

I pointedly ignore him as I continue to fix the wounded bike, dying to get out of this awkward situation. I'm supposed to be dead; not alive and breathing. I listen as he settles himself against the nearest tree, I dare to steal a glance at the man I once considered my soulmate. Amusement dances in his handsome face. Sighing, I beg the universe to get me the fuck out of here before I blow my cover. I'm still so angry and so heartbroken over our situation, but I just wanted to celebrate my fucking win today. Someone in the universe has fucking jokes, and I'm the butt of it.