OUTLIVE.
❝The dead were never the enemy.
It was the living. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK TWO of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 4 - 6 ]
*****
*I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I simply write to write. Astrid, any addi...
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[ xviii. those who arrive, survive ]
june 29th, 2012
➸➸➸
LATER THAT MORNING, AFTER Astrid and the others had gotten a little more rest and time to heal, they returned to the familiar railroad tracks. With what little supplies they had left on their person, they carried it in their nearly empty packs. Despite scrounging up a small breakfast of sorts, Astrid's stomach still growled, unended and unsatisfied. All hopes for the Lancaster woman to secure a decent meal now rested with Terminus. It had to be stocked with food.
The winds blew lightly through the rustling leaves that littered the path, and Astrid tightened her grip on her worn duffle bag. She walked alongside Daryl, who had slowed his own pace to stay in line with her limp. More than once he had offered to carry her by piggyback—a strange suggestion for him, she thought—but she had refused. They could not tire unnecessarily now. Not when they were so close to their final destination.
Meanwhile, at the forefront of their ragged procession, Rick clutched their newfound cache of weapons—a prize of sorts for surviving the night before. The arsenal they now possessed had once belonged to the men that they had slaughtered.
Astrid's thoughts immediately—and unwillingly—drifted back to those dark hours, bloody memories lurking in the corners of her mind . . . until she shook her head vehemently, attempting to banish the shadows that still haunted her.
She did not regret what she did.
"Hey, Astrid."
Startled, she shifted her gaze away from the seemingly endless stretch of tracks to find Carl smirking at her. "Yes?" She replied.
"Are you feeling better?" He wondered.
"Why do you ask?"
"Can you balance pretty well?"
A knowing smile curved Astrid's lips, the subtle undercurrent of competition electrifying the air. "You really think you can beat me at balancing on these tracks, Carl?" She said, teasing. "Well, guess what? I suggest you think again."
Carl's laughter echoed, the pact now sealed. "You're on," He said. Then he lowered his voice slightly. "We have to have some rules, though. Michonne likes to cheat and—"
"I heard that," The woman of conversation piped up.
Astrid chuckled at the look of surprise that crossed the boy's features upon being overheard. However, he quickly resumed the discussion, regaining his composure. "Anyways," Carl began. "Rule number one—we can't scare each other. Rule number two—we can't distract each other. And lastly, rule number three—we can't make any physical contact. Pushing someone off the tracks is an automatic disqualification."
