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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[ v. rude awakenings ]
october 24th, 2010
➸➸➸
ASTRID AWOKE TO A tiny hand shaking her shoulder, and though the touch was gentle, whoever it was, was very, very intent on getting her out of bed.
She groaned softly as she turned in her bundle of borrowed blankets, desperately trying to salvage any last moment of slumber, but the effort was futile. There was sharp brightness beyond her closed lids, and Astrid could already feel the familiar Georgia heat seeping in through the tent's dark tarp. Once more, she felt a push against her arm, the relentless presence refusing to let her escape back into sleep. With a final, forceful jolt, her eyes fluttered open, revealing a small figure looming over her—a figure with big blue eyes. Carl.
"You awake, Astrid?" The boy asked.
The woman in question struggled to gather her thoughts, her mind still foggy from the interruption of sleep. "I am now," She muttered through bleary eyes.
"Good. Glenn was starting to think you were dead." Carl grinned cheekily. "C'mon! Get up!"
Before Astrid could even protest, the boy darted away, leaving her bewildered and disoriented. She glanced at her wristwatch and her heart skipped a beat—it was almost noon. She had not slept that late into an afternoon since before the world decided to end. With a final groan of her tired body, Astrid swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, the borrowed blankets falling in disarray around her. Slipping her feet into her boots, she left her jacket behind, already feeling the oppressive heat of the summer seeping into her skin. It was going to be a grueling, hot day. She could not wait for November when the final days of summer would be far behind her.
As Astrid eventually made her way out of the tent and back toward the camp center, she could not shake the feeling of eyes upon her. Reluctantly, she looked up, daring to meet a gaze, and surprised herself when she locked eyes with Rick Grimes, of all people. His gaze was intense, but a polite smile graced his clean-shaven face as he wound an arm around his little son's shoulders. "Sleep well?" He called out to her.
"Better than I have in a long time," She replied as she walked closer. "How about you?"
"Very." He nodded. "Still miss my bed back home, though."
A soft laugh escaped Astrid's lips as she acknowledged her own longing for such comfort. "Don't we all?"
"Excuse me, Astrid?" Suddenly, Carol's voice broke the momentary tranquility, drawing Astrid's attention. The woman approached with a basket of laundry in her arms. "Do you have any clothes that need washing?" She asked.
"Oh, I can do that. Don't worry about me."
Carol waved Astrid's insistent words away with a hand. "Oh, it's quite all right," She brushed off. "It gives me something to do. Keeps my mind off of everything else that's going on."
