SURVIVE.
❝ Let the end of the world be
inside you, then you don't
need to fear the end
of the world out there. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK ONE of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 1 - 3 ]
******
I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its...
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[ iii. introductions ]
october 23rd, 2010
➸➸➸
ASTRID IMMEDIATELY KNEW THAT her new and sudden arrival amongst the wary group of survivors was not one to be embraced with complete happiness, by any means. That much was deciphered right off the bat.
In fact, her brief and initial introduction was a near tornado of chaos and panic that pierced the air, shattering the fragile tranquility of the overall camp. Now, many survivors were frantically scrambling about, their hands clamped tightly over their ears in a desperate attempt to shield themselves from the relentless wail of the Mustang's alarm. The air was also thick with shouts and clamor, assaulting Astrid's senses, and the mayhem threatened to consume her, even from within the safety of the car.
Astrid still clutched her backpack like a safety blanket, knuckles turning white as she held it close to her chest. She inwardly fought to ground herself, but her heart thrashed unsteadily against her ribs. Maybe this was a bad idea.
However, despite the pandemonium, Astrid's eyes could not help but be drawn to the faces that peered back at her through the windshield. She saw a mosaic of humanity—men, women, and children. The sight took her breath away, for she had not laid eyes on a child in what felt like an eternity. One brave little boy, with his dark hair and piercing light eyes, broke free from his mother's grasp and inched toward the blaring vehicle. His curious gaze locked with Astrid's, but she wondered if he truly saw her from within; if he comprehended the significance of her new presence. If he did, he chose not to alert the others, not even his mother—effectively keeping her hiding spot safe.
Abruptly tearing her gaze away from the young boy, Astrid's attention snapped back to Glenn as he climbed from the Mustang. He fought his way to the forefront of the vehicle, his voice a desperate plea for attention. Yet no one was hearing him. From her vantage point, Astrid watched with a mix of fear and protectiveness, her hand inching closer to the door, torn between backing him and preserving her own security. She wanted to help him, she truly did, but if these people could treat Glenn—one of their own—in such a blunt and crazy manner, what might they do to her?
"Good God!" A member of Glenn's group bellowed, their voice slicing through the muddled yelling. Astrid's gaze darted now towards an elderly man, likely aged into his sixties, as he approached Glenn, his frail shoulders burdened by a rifle. His command echoed with authority, "Turn that damn thing off!"
"I don't know how!" Glenn defended.
Before the young Korean man could attempt to rectify his mistake, a forceful shove propelled him away from the vehicle. In an instant, a large figure with a crown of dark hair took his place at the hood of the Mustang. Astrid found herself momentarily captivated by his presence, a combination of allure and caution etched upon his face. His gaze connected briefly with the mother of the light-eyed boy from opposing sides of the vehicle, but before Astrid could dwell on the implications of this silent exchange from two complete strangers, her view was obscured by Mustang's gleaming red hood as it was thrown upward. The powerful stranger swiftly leaned down to scrutinize the engine, and in a breathless moment, the blaring alarm finally surrendered its assault. Relief washed over Astrid, and for the first time, she could hear her own thoughts.
