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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[ iv. bedtime stories ]
october 23rd, 2010
➸➸➸
THE MANY MEN, WOMEN, and children of the Atlanta camp were silent as they looked upon Astrid Lancaster. The weight of their collective gaze pressed down on the woman, a heavy cloak of anticipation engulfing them all. It was as if these people all held their breath, waiting for her story to unfold. The tension in the air was palpable, charged with unspoken questions and restless curiosity.
And Astrid understood their curiosity all too well. After all, in their place, she would have been just as curious. People were naturally drawn to the unknown, hungry for stories that could unravel the mysteries of a stranger's life. But for Astrid, the only thing that mattered was escaping this moment as swiftly as possible. She had endured a long, grueling day, and all she craved was for it to finally be over. If this was what it took, a bedtime story, then so be it.
Shane Walsh was the first to break the stillness of the wired night. "What's your story?"
Astrid arched an eyebrow. "My story?" She repeated.
Shane nodded, his gaze fixed on the crackling campfire, as if reluctant to meet her eyes directly. Perhaps he still felt awkward for their first encounter. Rather than look at the woman he nearly banished, he prodded at the physical flames at his feet, stoking their flickering intensity. "Yeah," He prompted. "Who is Astrid?" The weight of his emphasis on her name hung heavily in the air between them.
Astrid's eyes drifted away from the dancing fire, away from the penetrating gazes of the onlookers, and down to her hands. Bruised knuckles bore witness to the recent trials she had endured in the passing weeks, transforming her once gentle nursing hands into hardened relics. The change in her skin left her unsettled. What else about her had changed?
"Well," She began, swallowing the lump in her throat, "my name's Astrid. Astrid Lancaster. And you wouldn't be able to tell it from my messy accent, but I'm from South Carolina."
Rick, seated closely beside his wife, straightened, his wonder now piqued. In his arms, tucked securely against his chest, was his little boy. "What are you doing down here?" He gaped.
"Well, I actually used to live in New York until I was twenty-three," Astrid explained, her emerald eyes catching the flickering firelight as they met Rick's searching blue gaze. "When my brother left home, I decided to follow suit. He headed to Georgia, but I couldn't bring myself to move that far from our parents. So, I settled for a middle ground. When everything started to fall apart, I tried to make him come back up north. I wanted to make sure my big brother would be okay."
"Was he?" Amy prodded.
Astrid nodded, though a pang of sorrow reverberated through her chest as she cast her gaze toward the reunited Harrison sisters. "I was watching the news as shitshow unfolded . . . Within seconds of that . . . that Patient Zero announcement in L.A., I dialed my brother's number," She continued. "He answered before the first ring ended, promising me he was fine. But he was waiting for me to come down to him. He refused to uproot his own life and come back home. He didn't think that what was going on was that big of a deal. So, in spite of his stubborn ass, I packed my things and headed to Georgia, determined to convince him otherwise."
