"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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We made a pact, Rick and I.
That whenever anything happened, whenever we fought or disagreed, we would always come home to each other.
And that's what we had been doing.
It's what we would keep doing.
It wasn't always easy, but love never is...
"Call it out." Rick's voice came through the radio.
I pulled the receiver from my belt and raised it to my lips as Cyndie and I walked along the faint dirt track through the woodland, covering grid four of many more.
"Grid one- clear so far." Jerry confirmed.
"Grid two's clear." Daryl continued.
"Three is clear." Rick stated.
"Grid four is clear." I added.
"Grid five clear." Arat cleared, to Cyndie's dismay.
"Piper one, anythin' up top?" Shane called through.
"Stay sharp, eyes open. We still got missin' people out here." My husband continued on, just as I noticed three walkers heading into the lining of the trees in the near distance, following a faint banging sound.
"There's somethin' going on up ahead- it's attracting walkers. We'll check it out." I said before releasing the on button and attaching the device back to my belt.
"We're headed your way." Rick stated. "Grid five, do the same."
"There's a house up ahead, off the road. Could be coming from there." Cyndie explained, hoping to avoid my eyes as she spoke. "We- uh- we used to live near here. Before Oceanside."
We began making our way through the woods and towards the sound that was only becoming louder with every step we took.
"I know this isn't my place." I began, putting myself into what I already knew would be an uncomfortable and difficult conversation. "I saw the way you tensed up back there- when Arat answered the walkie. I can't speak for her and I know I have no right to talk to you about any of it—"
"She told you what she did?" Cyndie quizzed, shock in her eyes as she waited for my answer.
"No- no, she didn't." My answer seeming to disappoint her. "I just know that what happened- what dark past she's keeping, it haunts her every day."
"You really believe that?" She asked with soft eyes.
"Yeah, I do." I surmised.
We entered an open field with the ruins of a house at the centre, ivy climbing through the brick chimney, wooden panels rotting away and a metal flap swinging against the wind which created the banging we had heard from the pathway. A small group of walkers had formed, entranced by the sound, desperate to snatch it within their hands to see if any part of it was fleshy, dripped in crimson. They will be disappointed. We walked alongside an abandoned truck as I began to plan our next steps.
