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GREY KINGSTON
i pant for air in the freezing rain that's soaking my hair into long, tight strands and covering my skin with goosebumps, "this is ridiculous! where are they coming from?" i yell over the noise of the dead and the steady rainfall.
"must've been roaming around the area!" aaron yells from down the line, stabbing his spear into the gooey, sticky eye of a walker. he pulls it back, groaning in disgust at the sight of the stringy blood.
"hey!" michonne waves me down, running toward us with a hood pulled over her head to keep her hair dry. "go inside, get some rest! i can take over."
"no, it's okay—"
"we'll take turns." she insists, more rested than i am since i've been out here for the forty minutes the herd's been banging at our gate.
i give in, nodding my head as my teeth chatter and my hands shake, muscles overextended from gripping my weapon tightly. i leave my friends standing shoulder to shoulder at the gate, driving their weapons through the slits to kill the walkers on the other side.
i walk home with heavy, aching limbs. it's quiet inside the house, nothing but the sound of the rain pelting against the roof.
my wet shoes squeak across the floor as i head for the stairs. i take notice of rick's watch he left on the couch—it's four in the morning. i clutch the banister, taking one step up at a time, ready to run a hot shower and try not to fall asleep standing up.
=
there's a drop in my stomach as i'm jolted awake by a noise i can't place. i listen for a moment, sitting upright in bed. my eyes travel over to my window where i can see the sun is still barely up—makes sense, my hair is still damp.
"grey?" spencer's voice comes through on my walkie, and that's how i know i wasn't dreaming the noises—they weren't in my head, they're coming from outside.
i grab the radio off my nightstand, "what is it?"
"another herd a few miles out, smaller this time."
"i'll be there in five." the walkie squelches at the end of my sentence. i hastily get dressed into different clothes and attach everything i'll need to my hips and over my chest.
i jog down the stairs, slowing once i reach the bottom and see rick in living room. he looks over at me for a second as he checks the chamber of his gun, "spencer walkie you too?"
"yeah," i come to stand before him, noticing the look on his face. "what is it?"
he sighs, "i think it's her mom doin' this; alpha. i think she's sendin' herds to weaken us 'til they're ready to attack ... or something, but they're definitely trying to tire us out."
