"She was like a new light. A new beginning. A new end." - Rick Grimes.
This story is about Bella Sinclair and her journey through the new world of the dead. A story of hope, of justice, of family and most importantly, of love. It focuses on a simil...
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"I won't ask you again, bitch." Her voice grated against my ear, as I tilted my head towards her. "Where the fuck are you holdin' up?"
"How many more of you are there?" I continued to question relentlessly, refusing to answer her as she had refused to answer me.
"You think you're tough, huh? You think you know shit, when really, you don't have a clue." She groaned, "I'm just gonna ask one more time—"
"An I'm not gonna answer." I cut in, only antagonising her more before she bolted up from the chair and pressed the end of her gun against my temple.
"I'm not playin', bitch."
"The amount of times I've had a gun shoved in my face, an you wanna know what I say to the person holding the trigger every damn time?" I looked up to her through hooded eyes as she glared down at me. "Learn to fuckin' count, bitch..."
- Five Hours Earlier -
Every sense was electrified as Carol and I waited on the perimeter of the Saviors compound.
"I should be in there." I murmured, clutching onto my rifle as I watched over the large complex that had two gigantic satellites on the top, with only one entry and exit point.
"No, you should be back home." Carol spoke up from beside me for the first time since we were left alone together.
With a short side glance to her, I looked back through the tall fences, "I'd be no use there."
"Bella," Carol turned abruptly to face me, "you're a mom now. Being at Alexandria is the most useful place you could be, but you couldn't help yourself, could you?"
"What is your problem?" I narrowed my eyes at her. "I thought we worked everything out after Charlie—"
"After he was forced to grow up?" She snapped.
"After he was left, alone and defenceless." I growled, "He's barely eight."
We shared an intense stare for a moment before she looked away and began fiddling with her fingers.
I looked back across to the Savior compound and silence swept uncomfortably over us. Only the brushing of tree branches against each other and the sharp wind meeting the fence could be heard if you really paid attention to it. I cared for Carol; she is and will always be family, but tension had arisen between us after the incident with Charlie. After the Wolves and how she left him, right before the quarry herd overtook Alexandria. She excused her actions as necessary in order for him to live in this world, which only fuelled my anger towards her. I knew what you needed to become in order to have a chance at surviving now and I knew that Charlie was not there; how could he be at a single digit age? But that was something to work on. It was something to teach him. Not to throw him in at the deep end and leave him, alone and defenceless, against a five hundred large herd of the dead.
