Genocide | Joshler

.:25:.

A/n: Thanks for stickin' around. The story isn't over yet.

Edit: i see a lot of comments saying that Hannah reminds them of the girl on 13 reasons why and i would really appreciate it if you no longer left comments like that. The character Hannah was created before that show was a thing. Thanks. <3

The change in Josh's demeanor was, to say, less than minimal. He stilled stayed cooped up in the caravan (though to be fair, his leg was still recovering), terrified of what the others would say to him once he did come out. He ate, thank god, he ate everything I would bring him.

The days had begun to grow colder, with autumn in full spring. The trees had changed their hues with the weather, no longer were we surrounded by the encaptivating dark of the verdant green, which biters and anything else living could easily camouflage with. Instead, the trees set ablaze on their own accord, reds and yellows were among the only tones that kept the autumn warm and alive.

I had tried to stay near Josh as much as I could, spending time in the caravan with him, reading countless books and telling him stories of the past, unsure if half the time he was actually listening. But, he was still breathing the same air as I was, his eyes weren't glazed white and death didn't spill from his lips. He was alive, and that's all I could ask from him.

When I did detach myself from Josh, I would hunt. Regardless of what Dallon planned for us while we were here, his people were starving, and Josh and I had killed off their only hunter. Hannah had, thankfully, been learning from her dad, Otis, and we went to hunt together. I picked up what she knew, we set basic traps and it was a good start. But the food supply was edging on dangerously low. The traps were only big enough for rabbits and they weren't strong enough to catch anything else. We tried to create bigger traps, but all had ended unsuccessfully. I had begun to bring along Otis' old shotgun for, originally, protection, until one day, amongst all the trees, there was a coyote. Without even thinking, I shot at it, striking it hard in the ass. Hannah has jumped at the cracking of the gun, cowering down low to the ground. The coyote howled, as it fell to the ground, begging its hind legs to push itself off the ground so it could escape its inevitable death. I pulled away from the gun with a giant grin on my face.

"What the hell was that for?" Hannah asked, a hand over her heart, its pulse faster than rabbit feet.

"Coyote," I responded, pointing towards the suffering creature with the gun. I shot at it again, its body finally limp on the ground. The crack of the second shot sent a nearby biter to limp towards us. Hannah pulled out her knife, the blade shone under a poke of sunlight through the trees and made it seems like a spark in thin air. She dashed off after the biter, kicking it to the ground before jabbing the freshly sharpened blade into its eye socket.

"Can you even eat coyote?" Hannah asked, getting off of the biter. I shrugged.

"Don't know," I replied.  "But, we can cook it up and see. Grab a leg." We dragged the coyote back to the camp, not super-efficient I'll admit but, it got the job done. And the look on people's faces as we brought in a big kill made it all worth it.

Ada, the apocalyptic badass (and new mother), took the coyote from our grasp, hauling it over her shoulders with ease. She was built for a fight, strong, fit, and a tower over me by a few good inches, but it was all dulled slightly by her blonde bob, which was hidden under a baseball cap.

"We could hear the shots from here," Ada began. "We were worried about you guys." Hannah scoffed at that remark and began walking to the direction of her tent.

"Worried about us? We can handle anything that's out there. Or at least I can. I'm not scared of Muertos," Hannah spoke confidently, pretending to jab at her own eye, I held in a laugh as she turned back round flipping her curled black hair over her shoulder, before getting smothering in a hug by her mother, Maria.

Ada handed the hunt off to her husband, Kenny, as she went to start the fire. She promised they would cook it up well for everyone, I had no doubts.

I began to walk towards the lake, looking up to see the sun beginning to melt into the sky, turning it pink and orange. We had been out hunting all day, dirt and coyote blood stuck under my bitten nails. I neared the shore, planning to clean my hands in the water when a figure caught my eye.

"Josh?" I called out. The man was sitting on the ground, a light blanket around his shoulders and his bandaged leg in full display. He looked up to me, his worried eyes began to soften with relief and he began to stand.

"Don't," I said quickly rushing over to him, kneeling in the dirt beside him. He wrapped his arms around me, clinging tightly and I embraced him fully. I buried my head into his shoulder, covering my eyes from the rest of the world.

"I was so scared," he whispered. "I-I heard the shots and they wouldn't let me leave because of my leg. I thought you were in danger." He pulled away and looked into my eyes. I cupped the sides of his face and gently brought my lips to his forehead, a quick peck before embracing him again.

"They were right to do that. I'm perfectly fine, we didn't have any trouble." Josh sighed with relief and pulled away, I fell to the ground beside him, resting my head onto his shoulder. "I did, however, get us dinner. Coyote." Josh let out a weak laugh, before his face fell flat again.

"Uh, Dallon wants to see you." My brows furrowed and I lifted my head from his shoulder.

"He's back? He's been gone for days," I trailed off.

"He's in the caravan waiting for you. I didn't feel comfortable being in there with him, he seemed angry. I wouldn't keep him waiting if I were you." I nodded my head, pressing a kiss to his cheek before standing up. We had yet to kiss again on the lips and I was slightly frightened. It scared me that I might see Brendon when I closed my eyes, his hands pinning me down, unable to move a limb or scream for the life of me. The same images I see when I fall for sleep or blink for a second too long. They haunt me more now than ever, having so much time for my mind to wander. It haunts me more than my wife's passing, a disease taking over my bones and my brain, my flesh and my eyes, consuming my entire reality and making it him.

I stepped into the caravan quietly, the sunlight no longer reached its windows as it was setting so it was darker than outside. As my eyes adjusted they landed on his figure, standing and looking out one of the windows. I cleared my throat but he didn't look my way, as if dust particles floating through the air, or just a biter dead on the ground, he ignored my presence, as if I was just part of the scenery.

"Dallon," I spoke harshly. After all my time here, I still couldn't get over what he had done. Nick, another member of our camp, was the one who found Dallon after the fall of the Peninsula. Nick had lost all his family in the apocalypse and was alone, wandering around. He told me one night as we sat by the lake that if he wasn't too weak he would've passed with them. I told him about Jenna, what I've remembered of her and our memories and told him how I was once in his position. More importantly than that, he told me that after he and Dallon had joined forces, Dallon was the one who went back to the camp and shot, stabbed, killed all of the biters. I couldn't stand the thought that he was able to look at Melanie and all of them, albeit at their worst, and killed them in a fit of rage.

"I found him today, that bastard," Dallon finally spoke. "I saw him through the window of a building and I wish I had just run up there and choked him with my bare hands." He stepped away from the window and sat down onto the couch, head in his hands.

"Who?" I asked, crossing my arms and staying put by the door.

"Brendon. He's pathetic. He's lost everything and for a second I just wanted to take him out of his misery." My arms swung by my sides and I took a step forward.

"I hate him," I spoke. Dallon chuckled dryly.

"Yeah no shit, sweet cheeks. We all hate him. He's the reason why you are here." He spoke.

"What do you mean?" I asked, stepping forward slowly.

"He took something from me, too you know. I always was waiting for the right moment to strike at him, but then the camp went under and I never had the chance. I was looking for him, and today I found him and I can't wait any longer. You want him dead? Well so do I. So let's kill him."