FEARLESS ➳ TWD¹ [REWRITE/COMPLETED]

27 ➳ ESCAPE

Running...

I miss Glenn.

Sweating...

I miss Abraham.

Panting...

I miss my brother.

Escaping...

I miss my home.

- ♕ -

"THIS way," Alden ordered, holding the heavy door to the stairwell opened while keeping a look-out. I threw my backpack on in the meantime. "Hurry up."

"I'm coming," I hissed back as I ran passed him, halfway down the stairs before he finally closed the door behind us. Then, he began to shuffle down the stairs behind me, too.

He had figured out that I was lying about what Sherry had said to me. I don't know how, though. He wanted to leave, too, and I am not sure if this was a trick or not - but, I have done warned him that if this is... I would kill him, no questions asked.

"If you put myself and, above all, my home in danger," I had said to him after he agreed to leave with me and Daryl, "I will kill you, Al, no questions asked. Don't make me, though."

He had his own small backpack on his back with some of his things inside while mine held about the same stuff, too. We had only stuffed in our bags things such as our toothbrushes, toothpaste, few clothes folded, bandages, weapons, and ammo, etc. Just some basic survival gear, just in case.

I could not legitimately wait until I was on the outside with Daryl and to embrace him for as long as I wanted - without some dumbass over my shoulder, telling me not to. I hate Negan, man. I absolutely despise that son-of-a-bitch.

The side-door entrance was in the clear view, but before we could get there, I stopped real quick to snatch my gun out. Alden almost did not stop, clearly out of breath and wanting to get out as soon as we could, too.

"Hold on," I whispered, pulling out my PPK Stainless Steel with a silencer on it. It is small, but it is steady and a good weight for me. It is a .22 and it holds up to eleven rounds, which is pretty good for me.

"Hey," I heard somebody suddenly call out, and the voice did not belong to Alden, either.

It was a man and I looked up just in time for him to holt right in front of the door. I recognized him, too, from the night that both Abraham and Glenn died. He was one of the ones, among the rest, that stood close by while my two friends died. I think that he even laughed as they were beat to death.

He was clearly confused as to what we were doing, with his mouth in an O. Then, he slowly trailed his eyes to our backpacks, nervous and hurried facial features, and the gun in my hand. He soon put two-and-two together.

"W-What are you two doing?" he nervously asked, just as I had sunken down to my old-self. I began to practically run up to him, putting a pep in my step. "I-I'll tell Negan! Don't you leave! I'll tell him when he comes ba-"