Casually Cruel - TWD

8. Bleeding.

In Eliza's opinion, the music the Abraham had playing on the radio was super shitty. But then again, he was in his late forty's, and Eliza also thought that all middle-aged people listened to shitty music.

"It's getting a little messy for you," Rosita played with Abraham's flame-coloured hair.

"Getting ready for retirement," Abraham chuckled. "Relaxing the grooming standards. Thinking about becoming a plumber, a sheepherder, or something."

Rosita scoffed. "You ain't herding sheep now, Abraham. Eyes on the prize."

"Damn right," he looked at his girl friend in the rear view mirror with a grin. "That's my girl. Maybe I'll let you shave me down all over, dolphin-smooth."

Rosita scoffed a laugh and hit his arm. "I'll cut it for you tonight."

"Yes ma'am," Abraham grinned.

Tara piped up, making Eliza turn in her seat. Tara was looking at Eugene. "Hey, maybe Rosita can give you a trim while she's at it. Party's getting a little long in the back. Or is it your source of power?"

Eliza laughed with Tara while Eugene started to talk. "I ain't slaying a lion anytime soon. I wouldn't be placing any wagers on seeing me dispatch a thousand Philistines with the jawbone of an ass," he looked straight ahead with that same old serious look.

"Damn, have a little hope in yourself, Eugene," Eliza shook her head, her eyebrows raised in amusement.

"He'll just settle on saving the world," Tara smiled and then looked at Eugene. "Right?"

"Yeah," Eugene replied.

Eliza couldn't help but think about all the people back at the church. About Rick, Carl, Judith. About Michonne, Carol, Daryl. Everyone, hell, even the annoying priest. She wanted them to be okay, they were good people, they helped her in times where they could've just left her. But they didn't.

She liked that Glenn and Maggie were on the trip. They had been able to help her calm down when she had a panic attack. And she trusted that Glenn would help her breathe again if she needed it.

"How long will it be?" Maggie turned to look at Eugene. "After you get on that terminal and do what you have to do?"

Eliza already knew that Eugene's answer wouldn't be a clear response, and it would probably include ten unlikely outcomes.

"Depends on the number of factors," Eugene began. Yep. Eliza was right. "Including density of the infected around target sites worldwide."

"Wait, target sites?" Glenn furrowed his eyebrows and moved in his seat. "Are you talking about missiles?"

"That's classified," Eugene kept a serious face. Eliza's eyes widened as she looked at Glenn and Maggie, who returned the same worried look that she had. "You can't keep on not telling anyone anything, we're trying to help you," Eliza sighed.

"What if we all live?" Eugene asked.

"The secrets will matter then?" Glenn tilted his head slightly, his tone sort of sassy.

"They might," Eugene responded. "Anyway, the speed which which things normalize depend on a number of factors including worldwide weather patterns, which were modelled without the assumption that cars, planes, boats and trains wouldn't be pouring hydrocarbons into the atmosphere this long. Changed the game quite a bit when it comes to air-transmissible pathogens."

Eliza didn't understand a word of that. It seemed like nobody else did either because they all looked confused and Glenn randomly changed the subject. "Why the hair?"