Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx

If Merle hadn't stolen the van, they would've made it back in time to stop the bloodshed. That's the truth, it's what makes it so hard to grasp when they hear the screaming from camp.

Lucas's heart drops into his stomach. Instinct has him running for the noise, instead of away.

Last time he'd been too late. If he could save at least one, it would be enough.

Rick takes off, shrugging the bag of guns higher up on his back, in time with the rest of the group's realisation.

Lucas's feet carry him through pure adrenaline alone, and he finds himself breaching the camp's perimeter first.

His eyes flit through the darkness. The van Merle stole isn't anywhere in sight, and neither is he. He almost wishes it was Merle, instead of the picture that lay before him.

Lucas scours the camp for the group he arrived with, but they're already gone, rushing head first into the massacre. He hesitates before he joins them - to scout the area, to count the dead. He'd only ever let himself get near one or two at a time to kill.

He has no choice, now. Lucas ditches his bag after freeing the meat cleaver from it's pockets, and moves directly into the chaos.

A small form at the base of a tree trunk brings him to a sudden stop, not even seconds into a run.

A little girl, clutching fearfully at her doll. One of Morales's kids, he recognises, shushing her when she screams and presses herself further into the wood that blocks her path.

"I'm not the dead. Grab my hand."

She obeys, lifting a shaking hand to tangle with his. Lucas doesn't bother giving her any acknowledgement, not when he doesn't have the time, and, without warning, drags her towards the RV in a sprint.

When a corpse stumbles into the space before them, he kicks it in stomach, sending it to the ground.

"Hey!" He calls out, ushering the little girl towards the RV and into Carol's open arms. He releases her, hoping the kid won't hold the bruise marks against him. "Sorry." He quickly says, just in case.

Lucas sticks close to the RV, only the meat cleaver and his pocket knife in his possession. He has Shane shooting at corpses from the RV, so he aids the man in killing the closest walkers.

It felt like hours but really, only minutes.

The fight had ended. They had won, but not by much.

The screaming has traded its place for cries and sobs, the gunfire into gasps of air, and his fear into sympathy, eyes landing on the girl sobbing over her sisters mauled body. It sends a pang of familiarity through his heart.

They'd lost a lot of people. But it happened. And there was nothing they could do about it. He knew that.

Lucas watched when Rick approached Andrea, the sun having risen over the trees, and had found himself flinching back in alarm when the girl pulled a gun on him.

He remembered her words distinctly, "I know how the safety works."

Rick had stepped away, apologizing.

Now they're arguing over her dead sisters fate like it was something they could force Andrea into rushing along.

It's not as easy as it seems.