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Later that night, James was sat on the left of his father, Carl laying on Rick's right shoulder and Lori on Carl's other side. The group was sat in front of a fire while Rick explained to them what happened when he woke up.
Rudy yawned into Remi's shoulder, her eyes slowly closing as Ricks's voice faded.
"Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion... all those things but...Disoriented comes closest."
"Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short." Dale said.
"I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."
"Mom said you died."
"Shane said you died." James quickly corrected his brother before glaring over at the man in question.
Rick shook his head at his eldest, "He had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it."
"I've been doubting it since that bullshit came out of his mouth."
"Jameson—" Lori's voice fell deaf to his ears. Last thing he wanted to hear was his mother defend the man she's been having sex with while she wore the necklace with her husbands face in it. He scoffed as he had already subconsciously brought his attention to Remington who smiled as their eyes locked.
"When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened."
"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell."
"Yeah."
"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." Rick informed them.
Shane cleared his throat, "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out, you know?"
If bullshit were a language, Shane was practically the inventor. Because if he remembered correctly, James was the one that drove nearly an hour to get to his parents house to save them. Shane was just arriving after doing god knows what before that. But minor details.
"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it."
He's been having sex with your wife, I don't think there's much to be grateful for. Is what Remington would have said if this was her business. What was her business was the eleven year old sleeping peacefully in her arms, but that didn't stop her from listening to the conversation.
"There go those words falling short again. Paltry things."
Nearby, Remi could see Ed put another log in his fire. The man, along with his wife, Carol and daughter, Sofia, were by themselves, closing themselves off from the other families.
