𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐒 | 𝐭𝐰𝐝 ²

32.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO,
too far gone.

━━━━

Blood was everywhere. Screams of the last remaining survivors were dying off faster than she had time to think, but all she could think about in that moment was the concave corpse right in front of her. Nicole couldn’t believe that this would have happened to someone she cared so deeply for, especially one she’d grown to think of as a son.

Zach’s stomach was almost hollow, except for the few intestines leaking out from the sides. She couldn’t find Cheyanne or Arabella, but she did find him. Her daughter and the two kids she vowed to protect were gone. Tears trailed down her face as she kneeled down to put a knife to Zach’s temple - he never would have wanted to become one of these freaks. Nicole’s knife squelched as she yanked the bloody knife out. “Nicole!” a voice sounded out from behind her, followed by two gunshots. The blonde turned around with tearful eyes, seeing Nadia running over. “Thank god you’re okay.”

Nicole sighed, pushing herself to her feet and wiping away the fallen tears from her cheeks. “Did you see if Chey and Arabella got away?”

“They were on the bus, but then Beth ran to get Judith, and I followed,” Nadia explained quickly. “Nicole, we gotta go.” Nicole sighed, glancing around the prison one last time before the two started running as fast as they possibly could.

✦✧✦✧

The faint crackle of the dim embers infront her was the only thing she could hear, but then again, she was trying her best to focus on a single thing so her mind didn’t swarm with thousands. How many of her friends got out? How many were still alive? Was Daryl okay? Cheyanne? Arabella? Carl? Rick? Maggie? Beth? Glenn? Michonne? Nolan? She was trying her damndest to not think about them while she tried to disassociate from the mental and literal massacre that had just shattered the only sense of true normalcy she had since the beginning of all of the death.

Nicole’s face was stained with dry blood - none of it was her’s, thankfully. The flames danced hauntingly across the cold glaze in her green eyes while the dead chill settled upon her scarred skin. “They could still be alive, Nicole.” Nadia’s voice was like silk streaming through her ears; it was the only thing that seemed to truly stay with her through her inner turmoil. Nadia was practically the angel on her shoulder, trying to sooth the constant flashes of death that coursed through the back of her eyes like a VHS tape that kept rewinding itself in the rusted gears of her mind.

The devil, however, was just her. Nicole could hear the version of herself that doubted the hope that Nadia tried to provide, completely counteracting the jabs of hope that tried to slip into the cracks of her sealing soul and filling it with a dead pit of cold hard nothing. The blonde had only felt this way once before - and that was when she lost Cheyanne the first time. This time seemed different though. This time, the gnawing pit of hopelessness grew faster than it did before. Everything she had worked so hard to make possible with the people she loved so dearly was stomped on and torn to pieces. This time she lost most of her family, and the only thing she could do was sit by while a deranged man tore them apart for everything they had. And she did nothing to stop it. If any of her family was dead, she placed that upon her shoulders, and right now, it felt like the weight of the world rested upon her.

Nicole felt empty. Nothing could ever be the same now…

Nicole’s eyes welled slightly at the thought, threatening to slip over the rim of her bottom eyelids. She didn’t budge as they tripped and fell down her cheeks, gathering a slight drop of blood. Nicole hadn’t cried in a long time; the feeling felt so foreign to her now - that feeling of being helpless. It felt like she couldn’t breathe unless she had something that she could live for. And right now, that feeling kept swarming her like the monsters that took her home. The only person she had left was Nadia. As much as Nicole cared about Nadia, she couldn’t feel normal anymore. Nicole wanted her entire family together - that was the only way that she’d ever feel whole again.

There was a crack in the woods that brought Nicole from her tainted nightmare; it caused her head to swivel quickly toward it as the tears dropped from her jawline and onto her ripped pants. Nadia stood up, lifting her sledgehammer to her shoulder as she stared out to the surrounding scenery just waiting for shit to hit the fan. Nicole watched her with solemn eyes. What was even the point anymore? Surviving wasn’t going to mean shit without her daughter by her side. Why should she keep fighting? For hope? For the implausible chance that any of them would be the last man standing? There was no point anymore.

Nadia lowered herself back down to leaf-clad ground with a disgruntled sigh. “We’re gonna find them, Nikki,” Nadia whispered out, setting her sledgehammer to her side. “Everyone is going to make it. We’ve made it this far, and each and every one of them are survivors. They’re alive.”

Nicole lowered her head and leaned her forehead into her knees. She could hear the crickets start to chirp as the darkness of night fell upon them. Nicole let out a sorrowful sigh as she maneuvered herself to the ground and turned away from the flames and away from the sullen brown eyes of the one person she knew she had left.

As the morning came to fruition, Nicole woke up from her restless sleep. The night brought the nightmares, and that brought a constant stream of vivid images when she was awake. She couldn’t escape them.

Nicole stared up at the orange and yellow ombre that cascaded through the sky. Cheyanne loved sunrises - more than sunsets most of the time. The blonde woman let out a deep sigh as the birds started chirping in their beautiful song; it was like they were singing in prayer to try and bring Nicole joy. Normally, it would have, but today, she felt like she was laying in a casket. She endured the way her breath was limited as piles of dirt thrown on top of her, and eventually she wouldn’t have enough oxygen. Sooner or later, she’d be dead.

Her dirt-caked hands pushed her body upward before allowing her arms to hug her knees. She let out a breath, wiping her cheeks on her jeans in an attempt to rid them of the dried streams of tears that had slipped out during the night. Nicole laid her head on her knees, facing toward a sleeping Nadia. She wished she could voice her words; she hated feeling voiceless. But that was the thing. Her voice was nothing but a shattered extension of herself, and with how everything had happened the past twenty-four hours, she felt like it was lost in the swallowing hole of violence.

The woman rose to her feet, brushing her hands against her jeans. She grasped a hold of the handle of her bat, twirling it to allow her wrist to pop before slipping it into the sheath on her back. She tucked her pistol into her jeans and grabbed ahold of the silenced assault rifle beside her, wrapping the strap around her left arm and lowering it to the ground. Her green eyes scanned around their small camp, scanning the barbed wire tripped with some empty cans surrounding the two. They’d found it in the bed of a crashed truck after they were a good distance away from the place they once called home.

She walked toward their barricade, ducking through it carefully so as to not trip the alarm. Nicole did it successfully before wandering into the woods, managing her footsteps the way that Daryl taught her. They were calculated, making their way through the underbrush gently. She was nowhere near being as quiet as him, but she was quiet enough to sneak through and pick up the tracks of a rabbit. Sooner or later, she could see it in the distance. She raised her rifle, clicking off the burst fire. Nicole then aimed through the scope, finding the rabbit and settling her aim. She was about to fire when she saw a tiny head poke from around the rear. She froze, staring at a mother rabbit and her baby. Her breath got shaky as she lowered her rifle from her vision.

Tears flooded her eyes as they scampered away. She couldn’t stop herself from breaking down into sobs and collapsing on the ground. Nicole wanted nothing more than to hold her daughter in her arms again; she should’ve stayed at the prison and protected her daughter. She screwed up. She was broken.

Nicole Allegro was shattered, and she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to piece herself back together in time to save herself.