- 𝟏.𝟎𝟑

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❝ chapter three — songs of the trees ❞

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chapter three — songs of the trees

❝ chapter three — songs of the trees ❞

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

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GLENN WAS NEAR CERTAIN that Genevieve Vasquez could feel his eyes continue to gravitate to her as the hours slipped by like the sinking sun. She hadn't said a word, and every time she looked back at him he was sure to look away. She was like an angry panther, pacing first the river where they'd lost Birdie and Sophia, then the side of the highway. She'd elected to climb up onto the roof of the RV instead of sleep in her makeshift bed underneath the table inside, and she had remained there the rest of the night.

She had snapped at the others instead of speaking with them; no one was spared from her smoldering gaze, save Carl. Not even Carol, who had shouted at Rick for leaving her daughter behind and in her anger and fear blamed Birdie for not protecting Sophia. Gen's glare which was usually saved for Shane was carefully controlled as it was leveled with the woman. Glenn didn't think he'd ever seen such a dangerous calm settle over the Texan.

The early morning was not calm, nor was it quiet. Cicadas buzzed their irritating song in the trees, hidden but not far as the sound filled the air. The group, save for an injured T-Dog and Dale, who was still fixing the RV, ventured back off into the Georgia pines, following the general direction of the river downstream.

The sound of bells led them to a church a few hours after sunrise, when the air had filled with the sort of heat that clung to skin and clothes. It was an eerie sight to see the white-painted structure in the middle of nowhere, in a clearing littered with gravestones.

The ringing had stopped by the time Rick opened the red doors, revealing Walkers sitting in the pews. He, Gen, Rick, Daryl, and Shane make quick work of them, perhaps with more ferocity than was necessary. Glenn thought of it as a good way to release some of his frustrations. That realization didn't last long, though, because not three minutes later they learned that the ringing bells didn't come from a steeple, but from a speaker on a timer. Glenn ripped out the battery with a grunt, eyes scanning the resounding disappointment on the rest of their faces. They'd rushed through the trees to this place for nothing.

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 | 𝘨. 𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘦Where stories live. Discover now