Afraid of Being Alive (Shane Walsh Love Story)

Chapter 5: Welcome Home

The Ferrari sped along the road at supersonic speed, Rick racing down the empty highway as though he was Schumacher. I sat in the back seat panting beside Shane who was as equally as puffed out as me. His head was tilted back and his legs stretched out and open, sitting like your typical man. I on the other hand was slouched forward, my seatbelt burning into my shoulder. I didn’t dare take it off, for I feared if I did my head would go right through the class window. Not to mention that there was a cop both next to and in front of me.

“Rick,” I wheezed “Where…… Where the fuck are the guns?”

He didn’t answer. The only response I received was his knuckles tightening as he clenched the wheel, his teeth gritting together as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Rick.” I said sternly, leaning forward. I narrowed my face closer to his ear before speaking again, “The guns.”

“I dropped them,” he choked, slowing the car down before it come to a halt completely, “I dropped the damn guns.”

My jaw dropped with his words. What did he mean he “dropped” the guns?!

I balled my hands into fists: my best attempt not to snap at Rick.

“We’re going back for them.” I snarled.

“Aw no, what the hell you talkin’ ‘bout?” Shane drawled in his southern accent, “It’s way too dangerous. Not after we set the Walkers off like that!”

“The guns, Shane! We need the guns!” I yelled. I was fed up with these two people by now, “Let me out and I’ll go fetch them myself.”

I reached over to grab a hold of the door handle, but Shane’s muscular hands grabbed my wrist and pulled them towards him. “I can’t allow that,” he scowled.

I thrust my wrist out of his grasp and folded my arms so that he couldn’t touch me like that again. I didn’t care about the fact that this guy was extremely good looking; nobody has the right to grab me.

I sat back in my seat and off we went yet again, my mood heading south and sour. Lola sat in the seat in front of Shane. She was shaking, her face even more pale than before. Her thin arms were wrapped around her body as though she was trying to create a cocoon of familiarity for herself.

The sound of the Ferrari’s engine roared as we zoomed through the winding roads of the hills. The whole time Rick was driving, I couldn’t take my mind off of the dropped bag of guns. We needed them. He said that there were over a dozen people back at the camp. What if something happened? What if a herd similar to the one in Atlanta were to come through and all we had was a couple of shotguns? I couldn’t see the camp functioning properly without the guns, despite the fact that I hadn’t even visited there yet.

After around twenty minutes of driving (without traffic), a small camp on top of a lookout began to come into view. Finally, the entirety of the site was visible. It looked good. These men had created what seemed like quite a stable area for themselves here. There were a few children drawing at a small table and a whole load of adults swarming the place. I saw a group of women with baskets of clothes in their arms, men beside campfires with wild animals roasting on the open flame and a man perched on top of an RV. I could only assume that he was on watch.

Our Ferrari slowed down as we parked at the base of the grounds. Lola and I remained in the car as Rick and Shane stepped out. Rick walked off from the Ferrari whereas Shane stopped to open Lola and I’s doors for us.

“Welcome home.” He smiled, letting me out of my seat.

I undid my seatbelt and got out of the car, only to be met with tonnes of staring eyes.