Nothing Could Fall

Live

Sunlight. The sunlight isn't where it's supposed to be. That's the first thing Alicia notices as her lungs burn with the lack of oxygen. She frantically looks down, finally realizing that down is up. She releases the last few dregs of oxygen from her nose and reorients her body.

Kick. Pull. Kick. Pull.

The surface seems just out of reach. The harder she kicks, the more her lungs protest the movement. A few more feet. Alicia feels the fatigue in her muscles, the black spots flicking throughout her eyesight. She's close to passing out; she can feel it. She isn't even sure how long she's been underwater.

Kick. Pull. Kick. Pull.

With one final surge of power, Alicia finally breaks the surface of the raging river, gasping dearly for breath. The river roars, as the water no longer contained by the dam floods the once empty banks. Still clambering for air, Alicia lets the forceful current pull her farther downstream, using all her remaining energy to keep her head above water. The farther she gets, the slower the pull. Finally feeling confident enough to fight the current, Alicia frantically kicks toward the nearest shore. She heaves her battered and tired body up on the concrete bank and lets her face warm on the sun-kissed cement.

Her eyes flutter shut as her lungs finally pull in the much-needed oxygen. After only a moment of relaxation, Alicia snaps her eyes open and pushes up on her hands at the ever-familiar sound of the uncoordinated walk of the dead. She scans her surroundings for anything to use as a weapon, suddenly very aware of her vulnerable position. Her eyes fall on a sturdy branch not a few feet away from her. With pure grit and determination, Alicia rolls toward her left, dodging the slow grasp of the rotting hand coming at her. She grabs the branch and using the momentum she just generated, effectively throws her feet beneath her and stands in a ready position.

With all her strength and a guttural yell, Alicia swings the heavy branch, hard. The crunching squelch of a shattered skull would have been stomach-churning if it were the first time she had heard it. But it wasn't, and Alicia barely flinches at the sound as she drops the branch to her side and sighs in relief.

Her reprieve is short-lived as her mind races and rapidly replays the last fifteen minutes. Nick. The dam. The Zodiac. Her mother. Strand. The Proctors.

Her eyes dart down the concrete bank, searching for any signs of her mother or Strand. Nothing. Not a single living soul. The bank across the river is just as bare save for the bloated corpse dragging itself along the edge.

Alicia releases a heavy sigh and closes her eyes as she tips her head back. The afternoon sun beats harshly down on her skin. Using the branch as a makeshift walking stick, Alicia makes her way up the concrete bank, desperate for flat ground to follow. The only logical choice is to track the river back upstream to the blown dam. That's where her mother would look first. She would look for Nick first. On any other given day, Alicia would feel bitter about that thought, but today, right now, she is grateful to know where her mother would go.

Digging in with the branch, Alicia trudges along the bank quietly, her ears constantly stretching, always listening for the telltale sound of the infected. Her trek is reasonably clear. A few of the dead that were washed downstream crawl from the water, but they are far too slow and far too distant to be a problem.

After what seems like hours, Alicia finally sees the dam in the near distance. The sight makes her pause.

Nick.

The gaping hole in the center of the dam, the debris floating in the water, all of it a reminder of her brother's foolish last stand. She shakes her head, willing the tears to remain burning behind her eyes. She shouldn't think like that. She shouldn't assume he's dead. Her mother wouldn't believe it. But she's not her mother. If Nick survived the explosion, the Proctors surely would not have let him leave the dam alive.