World Gone To Shit (A Walking Dead Love Story)

Chapter 2|| Sanity

If you're reading chapter 2 thanks for sticking with me this far! :)

"It's okay to be a glow stick; sometimes we need to break before we shine."
- Kian Lawely
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Victoria's P.O.V. ||
The first thing to come to my senses was the feel of what was beneath me, a soft mattress and a scratchy quilt. I open my eyes next, only to be greeted with a blank ceiling and walls. I looked to my right to see a nightstand and a vent in the floor. Turning to my left, I see the man from the hospital. I attempt to sit up, but I fail. I look up and see my hands are tied together.
"Hey," I whisper. He looks over at me, eyes swimming in thought.
"This may be an inconvenient time, but what's your name?" He chuckled and I smiled brightly.
"Rick, yours?"
"Victoria, but I go by Kat," I informed.
"Why Kat?" He questioned.
"It was my mother's nickname," I trail my eyes up to the ceiling, my walls can't break down. Not now, not ever. Don't let the memories in. I dig my nails into my palms as I forced the dreaded past down into the depths of my mind. The door opened slowly, and we both stiffened as a man walked in with a little boy.
"What's your names?" He questioned.
"Rick, that's Kat," he said, nodding over at me.
"Care to untie us?" I ask, getting tired of the rope rubbing against my wrists.
"Nope, how do I know you won't attack me and my boy?" He countered.
"You don't, you're just gonna have to trust us," I say. He looks at me then down to Rick.
"Alright, " he says simply. My eyes widened slighy in shock. That was it? There has to be a catch. He takes out a pocket knife and I begin breathing quickly.
"Relax, I'm just cutting the ropes," he says. I nod and slow my breathing down by counting, as I do often. He cuts my ropes from the headboard and I sigh in relief, rubbing my wrists. He gestures to our clothes and I look down to see blood.
"Killed a few walkers near you two, may wanna change," he says shortly. I nod and head to the door slowly, my head still spinning from the knockout. I open the door and almost step on the little boy.
"Oh I'm sorry, what's your name?" I ask, bending down to get level with his eyes.
"Duane, I'm sorry about hitting you with a shovel," he says shyly, a blush forming on his cheeks.
"Ah, kid, it's fine," I chuckle, ruffling up his hair. I stand up and walk down the hall, looking in doors for a bathroom. I finally find one at the end of the hall and turn to Rick.
"There may be a bathroom connected to a bedroom," I say. He nods and begins looking in bedrooms, making his way down the hall again. I open the bathroom door and shut it quickly, trying to avoid the creaking. I slip out of my blood coated shirt and pull on an army green blouse that may have been a bit too tight but I really didn't care. Looking down at my pants I carefully examine them for blood, only seeing a few specks.
"They'll be fine," I mutter. I turn around to gather my shirt when I see a door. I turn back around and see the door I came through. Curiosity washed over me as I step lightly over to the new door. I turn the knob slowly and open it just a crack, revealing something I may or may not have wanted to see.
Rick stands shirtless in the middle of a posh bedroom, and I can't say I don't enjoy the view. He pulls on a white T-shirt and looks down at his uniform and gives a shrug. He pulls it on and begins buttoning it slowly, then looks down at his pants. Like me, only specks of blood were on them so he left them at that. He looks up suddenly to the door I'm at, eyebrows furrowing. I step away from the door quietly, and race out of the bathroom. I stop in the hallway and gather myself before walking into the dimly lit living room. Duane is sitting near an oil lamp while the man who untied us is stirring something in a pot. My stomach twists at the sight of food, I haven't had much of anything in a few days.
"Smells good," I comment.
"Pork and beans," he says shortly, more than likely upset with the fact that he has to waste his food on two more people.
"Thank you for letting us stay, I don't think I could've taken care of Rick," and I mean it, I can barely feed myself.
"You wouldn't of had to worry about it, I can take care of myself," he snaps. I glare up at him, no need to be rude.
"Well, Sheriff, if it weren't for me you'd probably be dead already," I argue. His gaze flickered over to me before he returned to his meal.
"Dinner, Duane," Morgan calls out softly. Duane comes to sit down, filling up the small table. I pile a fork up with beans and just before I shove it into my mouth, Duane interrupts.
"Daddy, the blessin'," he says. I set my fork down and look over at Morgan. He grabs Duane's hand and offers his to Rick. Rick hesitates before placing his hand in Morgans. I bite my lip and look at Duane's outstretched hand. I place my hand in his and look over at Rick, who extends his arm closer to me. I softly put my hand in his and bow my head.
"Lord," Morgan begins," I thank you for this food, and ask that you protect us in this new world, Amen."
"Amen," I mumble under my breath. I pick up the fork and shovel food into my mouth, not having been fed properly in a week or two.
Once finished with our meal, we headed to the small living area lit by a few lamps. I glanced around, only seeing two sleeping bags. I shifted uncomfortably knowing I would have to share a bed with Rick. I walked back into the kitchen and looked through the cracks of the boarded windows. A loud alarm sounded, making me jump back from the window. I made my way into the living room to see Duane dimming the lamps. Morgan put a finger to his lips, telling us to be quiet. He slowly moved the curtain away from the window and peered outside.
"It's a car alarm," he informs. We nod in unison still staring out the window, terrified of the things before us.
"She's here," Duane cries. He runs over to the mattress and begins sobbing, Morgan following him close behind.
"Shh, it's okay, cry into the pillow," he lulls. Rick and I look at him in confusion, and he takes a deep ragged breath.
"His mother, she was bit. That's why when we saw you we thought you was bit. You get bit, or scratched, there ain't no turning back. You get a fever so bad it'll burn the flesh off your bones, that's what happened to her," Rick and I both nodded.
I looked through the cracks in the window while Duane's quiet sobs filled the room. A black woman, wearing bunny slippers and a polk-a-dot robe is shuffling around aimlessly, and I assume that's Morgan's wife.
I think about how she looks now, all zombiefied and skinless in some places, her hair a giant mess and her fingernails long and sharp. She was once pretty, I resolve. She once had long black hair, and a chocolate skin tone. I turn around and look at Morgan and Duane, feeling the same heart wrenching loss as them. I remember when my mother had changed, it all seemed much too vivid. Flashes of my father biting into her neck, her lifeless eyes flashing open, her moans mixing with my sobs. I felt a couple tears slide down my cheeks and arms wrap around me. I jumped back and looked up at Rick in surprise.
"Sorry, you we're crying," he explained. I nodded, then whipped my head toward the doorknob as it turns from left to right very slowly. I make my way up to the peep hole and look through to see Morgan's wife. I sigh sadly and walk back over to mine and Rick's shared sleeping bag. I nestled into the far right side of the bag allowing space for Rick and attempt to fall asleep.