SURVIVE.
❝ Let the end of the world be
inside you, then you don't
need to fear the end
of the world out there. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK ONE of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 1 - 3 ]
******
I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
[ xxxvi. survival of the fittest ]
november 16th, 2010
➸➸➸
ASTRID LANCASTER'S WEARY EYES fought against the pull of exhaustion, their heavy lids battling the desire to close as the terrifying presence of the walkers that had overrun the farm swarmed her mind. The lingering question haunted her thoughts: had others managed to defy the overwhelming odds and escape the farm? And where was Daryl? He had to be alive, for the mere thought of losing him was an abyss Astrid dared not peer into. In the distance of the dark fields, Glenn and Maggie had appeared unscathed—surely a glimmer of hope that they were still out there, somewhere.
Astrid attention soon strayed. Weakened rays of dawn filtered through the window as Rick eventually guided the truck to a halt on the desolate and cluttered interstate road.
Stepping out of the car, Astrid took a moment to steady her racing thoughts. The familiar highway stretched ahead in a ghostly silence, the soft susurration of wind in her ears serving as the only sound. Frustration bubbled within her, blending with the simmering anxiety, as her gaze turned toward Rick.
"What do we do now?" She wondered.
"Dad, where's mom?" Carl asked, impatient. During the drive out, the boy had been promised by his father that his mother would be here by the time they arrived. "You said she'd be here!"
"And she will be," Astrid attempted to reassure him. "We just needed to get away from that place."
"We've got to go back for her," Carl bravely declared. "Why are we running? What are we even doing?"
As Carl's fearful voice began to rise, Rick pressed a finger to his own lips and crouched to his son's height. "You need to be quiet, all right?" He instructed. "Please, Carl."
The boy scoffed skeptically. "Please," He repeated, the lone word dripping with sarcasm. "It's mom."
"Carl, listen—" Rick tried again, but the boy's anger remained unswayed. He shook off his father's touch, and darted away down the road, vanishing from sight. Astrid's heart ached for the pain Carl felt—his sole focus on the mother he could not bear to lose.
Her attention then shifted back to Rick and Hershel. "Rick," The elder man addressed carefully. "You've got to get your boy to safety. I'll wait here for the others. I know a few places. We can meet at one of them later."
"I'll stay with Hershel," Astrid volunteered. "I've got little left to lose. Rick, you still have your son. Protect him. Take him somewhere safe before the herd catches up to us."
"Where?" Rick demanded. "Where is safe? We're not splitting up."
"Please, Rick. Keep your boy safe," Hershel begged. "I'll hide in one of the cars. If a walker gets me, so be it. I've lost my farm. I've lost my wife—maybe my daughters."
