Shooting Stars

Stars

Nowhere was truly safe anymore, but the group from Atlantis was together... for however long that would last. Safety came in numbers and in actions, and the longer they made as little sound as possible, the longer they stayed together, then the longer they would be safe. But they weren't safe. They could hide in their semblance of safety, of course. But Rick wasn't pretending anymore. Real safety had long ago disappeared. Their new 'safe' haven came in the form of a prison, a place that had once kept the evil in to keep the outside safe but now kept the evil out to keep the inside safe. The prison gave them shelter, gave them food, gave them warmth, and gave them safety.

It was in this safety that they could sleep, that they could dream, that they could live.

Night had fallen and a cool breeze wafted through the cellblock. The breeze seemed to have no beginning and no end but it was welcoming as opposed to the stifling heat of the day. Somewhere beyond the walls, a coyote howled a thin, lonely note.

Restlessly, Andrea tossed and turned in her cot; it squeaked miserably as if going through some sort of abuse. Finally, unable to stand lying there any longer, Andrea kicked off the scratchy sheets, slipped on her shoes, and threw her shawl over her shoulders. As she stood, she glanced at Michonne, who slept in the bunk above her, and rejoiced in the fact that she had not woken her friend.

The hallway was silent. Andrea tiptoed as silently as she could on the concrete and was assured when the gentle sounds of sleep did not abate. Her next hurdle was Daryl, who lay in the entrance of the stairs at what he called the 'nest.' He was sprawled out and Andrea knew he had fallen asleep last, like always. A soft smile crossed her lips as she looked at her love lying there on the ground in that haphazard way. Then she moved past him, placing her feet carefully in the small paces of bare cement that he had left open. After sliding slowly down the stairs, Andrea pushed her shawl farther up on her shoulders and moved with little idea as to where she was going.

She ended up outside.

She closed the door that linked the inside world to the outside world and relished the fact that it had not made a sound. The moment her feet hit the grass, she kicked her shoes off. The cold bite of grass created goose bumps that travelled up her limbs. This area of the prison had long ago been cleared of the undead, for which she was happy. After walking a few steps more, the blond sank to the ground, crossing her legs as she sat. The dead moved just beyond the fences that served as defense, a multitude of dark, staggering shapes that seemed to create a wall of background echoes that she rarely recognized anymore.

Slowly, Andrea lay back, using the shawl as a blanket and her arms as pillows. With the lack of electricity, the night sky shone brightly with stars and the slight twinkling was oddly serene. She didn't know how long she'd been there staring up at the light display before she realized that she was unconsciously counting shooting stars. Surprised, Andrea noted the amount of meteors flashing into the Earth's atmosphere.

The reality of how things continued despite the human world falling into chaos dawned on her slowly. The knowledge that the walkers had just become another part of her life sickened her but, like Dale had often said, time stopped for no man. The Earth still rotated around the sun, the moon still kept the tides under control, and the animals kept surviving like they had for millennia.

She was just contemplating the thought of a meteor ramming into Earth when a noise startled her. She shot upright, hand reaching for her nonexistent gun before she realized who it was.

"Jumpy?" Daryl's rough voice asked as he settled next to her on the ground. She relaxed and lay back again, a faint smile on her face. He moved a little closer to her to close the gap; "You gotta try to be quieter."