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chapter seventy-four | the bloody creek
LAUREL LED THE way back towards the prison. Her body itched like crazy with all the walker gore covering her. She was going to need a very, very, good bar of soap to make her smell something close to nice to get rid of this horrible stench of rot. A new pair of clothes too. She had scratched away the gore that Ethan had put on her face. The blood had dried and fuck, was it itchy as hell. Atleast he didn't any close to her ear.
She and her siblings suffered quietly as they made their way through the forest. She held her knife tightly, ready for a walker to pop out at some point, just in case. When there was a walker, it would walk right past them. She was really hoping for an animal to come out though, her stomach was beginning to eat itself in hunger. It hurt. As did everything else.
They walked as slow as the walkers. If anybody were to see them, they probably would think they were walkers.
Daryl's lessons circled around her head, how to hunt, how to track. He was a good teacher, more than he could give himself credit for. She would tell him so every day they went out together. He always grunted after the compliment. His way of saying thanks, but no and shut up.
She misses him. Her heart hurt slightly.
She hasn't been without him in... a very long time. It's been three days since the fall of the prison, she thinks. She's not sure. Three days without knowing he's actually okay. He's out here in the forest somewhere. He's fine. He's alive, she tells herself. The woods is his home. He knows how to survive, he's the one that taught her how to.
She won't let herself worry about him, knowing that the demons in her mind were just waiting for their moment to attack her. She hasn't let herself do much thinking about anything that has happened in the past few days.
Had it really only been a week since she was in the isolation unit taking care of her sister and everyone with Hershel? Oh, Hershel. He didn't deserve the ending he got. He deserved to grow old with his daughters peacefully. Grief causes her breaths to shallow as she thinks of her friends not being able to even bury their father. His head being cut off flashes in front of her and she flinches. She glances behind at her siblings who thankfully didn't notice and she kept walking forward.
It's been quiet, none of the siblings speaking much because of the exhaustion they each share. A few birds chirped over their heads, a sense of calmness after the storm comforted her slightly. Laurel let out a heavy breath, hoping for their luck to come sooner than later. She doesn't know how she's kept standing this long.
Suddenly, Ethan grabbed her shoulder, gently and firmly, to stop her from moving forward. She glanced behind at him, slight anxiety rising when she saw the shocked look on his face. "Do you hear that?" He asked her, pointing to her ear.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to listen for the sound he was referring to. Her good ear strained and all she heard was her own breathing until finally, she heard it.
