chapter fifty-nine : realistic nightmares { season four - episode ten }
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"WE NEED TO find some firewood," Vickie Parson spoke up after a few hours walking in silence. "Find somewhere safe for the night."
Kloe walked in front of her, her brown eyes staring dead ahead of her. She didn't want to stop, despite the fact that they could barely see anything. The sun had disappeared from the horizon around thirty minutes prior, countless stars formed in the indigo sky.
"I have to keep looking," she stated barely above a whisper, loud enough for the older woman to hear from behind her.
"Kloe, we've been walking for hours," Vickie tried to reason, trying her hardest to catch up with the young woman. "We should- you should take a rest. You can get up early in the morning and search for him all day."
The Rhee woman took Vickie's words into consideration. She knew she was right -- if she wanted to find her husband and brother, she had to be rested so she had enough energy.
"We can look in these woods." Vickie pointed over at the hundreds of dozen trees to the left of them. They were still on the road where they found the prison bus.
They stuck to Kloe's planning. She knew where she drew on the map on where to go in case of any emergencies, and she memorized it perfectly. She knew where she was going.
Swallowing thickly, Kloe forced her legs to stop walking, twisting her head to the side to view the dark cluster of trees. "Shouldn't we find a flashlight first? It's too dark to search for things if we can't even see--"
She was cut off by a loud thud behind her. Without hesitation, Kloe whipped her body around, looking down at the Parson woman who had collapsed to the ground.
"Oh my God, Vickie," she almost shrieked, kneeling down next to her. "Are you okay?"
Vickie adjusted herself, pushing herself up with the palms of her hands against the concrete. It was only then that Kloe fully paid attention to the woman, her eyes filling with confusion as she took in Vickie's state.
She had gone pale, sweat rolling down her head. It may have been dark, but from the faint light they still had, anyone could see that Vickie wasn't...okay.
The first thing to cross Kloe's mind was the fact that she had possibly caught the virus that was spreading across the prison. "Are you sick? Oh God..." Kloe panicked, brushing a strand of her raven hair behind her ear as she set a hand on Vickie's shoulder.
Except, Vickie swatted her hand away. Kloe stared at the woman who acted differently, taken aback. Vickie gulped, sending her an apologetic look. "Sorry... I just... I'm not sick."
"Then what's wrong? Why do you look sick?" Kloe asked as Vickie brought one knee up to her chest, taking a deep breath. "Vick?"
The Parson woman broke her gaze away from the younger woman, a few dirty blonde strands falling down the sides of her face as she looked down into her lap.
