Red Tide² ━ FTWD

CHAPTER 21: Weight of Living

RED TIDE

chapter twenty-one: weight of living

[ season 2, episode 6; sicut cervus ]

DAY 21

At her mother's insistence, the Darcys shared a bedroom. Sofia had tried to put them in separate rooms, but neither felt comfortable being separated so soon after their ordeal — especially in a place as new as this one, surrounded by strangers.

Technically, it was Victor's house, who had bridged the gap from stranger to acquaintance to something bordering a friend, but that seemed more like a formality than the stringent truth. It wasn't Victor's home, per se, but his secret Mexican girlfriend's. Actually, that wasn't strictly true either. Victor's secret Mexican girlfriend had turned out to be a secret European-Mexican boyfriend — which on any other day she would've absolutely pestered the man about for holding out on her. Any other day, when Victor's partner wasn't lying on his deathbed, slowly succumbing to the infection that had already claimed most of humankind, and the humanity of those left.

After they'd finished settling in, (by which she meant she'd left the task of hiding weapons in accessible spots around the room while checking all points of access to her mother and sister while she wandered off) Heather found herself down the hall in what looked to be a living space, with a box TV playing some black and white horror flick. Alicia was already curled up on the couch, feet tucked up against herself and one hand on the remote. She glanced up to see Heather hovering in the doorway, and neither made a move to speak.

Heather had barely spoken to her beyond what was strictly necessary, ever since their argument over the radio. The older girl seemed to be friendlier following the hostage situation — had even sat down to play cards with herself, Meghan, and Ofelia just before they left to hide in the boiler room aboard the Abigail. But there was still a gap between them that had yet to be bridged.

For her part, Heather refused to be the bigger person. She never understood that saying, anyway. In her experience, it just meant that you taught people they could treat you like garbage, and you'd be the one to apologize for it. Alicia's actions with the radio had nearly killed them all. If anyone was going to make the first move, it would be her.

Heather wasn't always the most patient of girls, but she'd wait until hell froze over before admitting fault on this. Still, that didn't mean she was going to hold it over Alicia's head until then. She'd be polite.

"Room for one more?" she nodded to the couch, and Alicia shrugged.

"Sure." Heather took the monosyllabic response at face value, and plopped down next to her, kicking her feet up on the coffee table as she settled in for the movie. When Christopher Lee appeared on screen with familiar slicked back hair and a dark coat, she grinned, recognizing the 1958 film. "Horror of Dracula, nice."