Don't Fade Away

Chapter 2

I have been driving with this mystery dude for a little over 15 minutes. He hasn't tried to talk to me at all, in fact, he seems to be ignoring me. I, on the other hand, haven't seen a single person since my parents died, and I was ready to talk to somebody.

"What's your name?" I blurt out.

He stares at me as if I had just asked him to jump off of a bridge. I might as well have. He doesn't want to talk to me, which is fine, but I still deserve answers.

After what seems like ages, he finally speaks. "Why do you want to know?" Even though I would never admit it, his voices sounded quite nice when he wasn't yelling at me.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to stay calm. "I haven't seen another survivor in a long time. Now that I've found one, I plan on talking to that person, who sadly, happens to be you. So answer the damn question."

He seems a little taken aback by my little outburst, but he only shows it for a second before returning to his normal, cocky and arrogant face. "Lucas Michaels. What's yours?"

I sat there, contemplating wether or not I should give Lucas my name. It seemed like such a small thing, but you could never be too cautious.

Giving my name out to the wrong person would put me in a dangerous situation, or even death. On the other hand, this is the first survivor I've found in weeks. He seemed trustworthy. Enough.

I sigh, "Charlie Reghan."

He tears his eyes away from the road to give me a brief glance, before returning them to the street. "Charlie," he drawls out, as if testing how my name sounded coming from his mouth.

I ignore him, continuing my hunt for answers. "Where are we going, exactly?"

Lukas shuffles around in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. "We're heading towards a little camp a few miles from the city. It won't take that much longer to get there, only about ten more minutes."

"Are there any other survivors?"

Lucas sighs, clearly not in the mood to talk. "You and these damn questions. Yes. There is one other person there, his name is Grant. He's my father."

I briefly shut my eyes, desperately trying to remember what it was like to have a dad. We used to be close, until I got older. It got really bad really fast. Happy conversations became never-ending arguments. Dropping me off at school turned into picking me up at jail. It was horrible.

I sneak a quick glance at Lucas, envying him. "You're lucky, you know," Lucas looks at me, confusion in his eyes. I continue, "Keep him close. You might not think too much of it, but once he's gone, he's gone. You will never get these moments with him back. I learned that the hard way."

He bites the inside of his cheek, as if he was contemplating his next move. I had expected him to tell me to grow up and move on, but what I got was completely different.

"I'm sorry." He says it with so much emotion that you would think that he knew the man himself. This pisses me off immensely.

"No, you're not. Don't act like you knew him. I don't want your condolences or pity."

He looks straight ahead of him, eyes glued to the road. His hands clutch the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles are white.

We don't talk for the rest of the way there. There was a coldness between us, and it felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders. The silence between us was awkward and distant; horrible.

After what seems like ages, we finally arrive. I was never good at meeting new people, even in conditions like these. People freak me out just as much as walkers do.

Lucas turns to me, an emptiness in his eyes. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." No.