DIRT AND DECAY ⸻ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 ( ON HOLD )

6| Highway to hell.

CHAPTER SIX  ⎯ 
HIGHWAY TO HELL.

A FEW DAYS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE FALL OF THE CDC. August sat in Dale's RV, the book he had borrowed from Shane growing increasingly stale. He scowled at it's dull prose as he turned to another page, staring at the worn pages of the tattered book.

The story was nothing more than a compilation of stupid tropes and hackneyed cliches, but it was the only thing he had to keep him occupied now that no one in the RV was speaking to him.

In the passenger seat of the RV was Glenn. He fiddled with a map, that August understood pretty well—directing Dale towards their destination.

A sudden thud shook the RV to it's frame.

The engine sputtered before going dormant, and white smoke curled from the headlights. Shane raced towards the front, confusion etched across his face.

"What happened?" August inquired, looking up from the book he held.

Dale gritted his teeth, his hand gripping the steering wheel as he came to a full stop. "The RV's a piece of junk, that's what happened."

They made their way out of the RV, examining the busted engine. "I said it. Didn't I say it? A thousand times. Dead in the water."

"Problem, Dale?" Shane inquired and it was hard for August to tell if he was being sarcastic.

"Just a small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of—" Dale turned around, viewing the rows upon rows of abandoned cars. "Okay, that was dumb."

"If you can't find a radiator here . . ." Shane trailed off.

"There's a whole bunch of stuff we can find." August watched as his dad began rummaging through the trunk of a car.

"I can siphon more fuel from these cars for a start." T-dog announced. Everybody began suggesting stuff to grab—everyone beside Lori, who disagreed.

"This is a graveyard." Lori protested. "I don't know how to feel about this."

August understood what she meant, he felt rather weird about this as well.

"Hey, kid. It's ya lucky day." Daryl spoke up as he gently hit August's shoulder, causing his son  to look at him.

"Why?"

"You can finally make yourself useful. Go grab somethin'."

August didn't know how to take that.

"Go on." Daryl swung his arm, gesturing for August to go scatter. "Don't grab anythin' we don't need."

August trudged through the parking lot, the sun beating down on his skin. The smell of decay hung heavy in the air, and he nearly gagged as he made his way to the cars. He searched each one, peering through the windows.

Inside one car, he spotted a collection of crayons and old shattered phones. He also found some money—not like they need any that now.

His gaze wandered onto the road, something caught his eye: a pair of glistening rocks.

One of the rocks caught his attention more than the other. Despite having been weathered, the stone still maintained a certain pristine appearance. It was as if it had been freshly polished. It was pale and white.

The second stone, on the other hand, was far more vibrant in color. The vivid turquoise of its surface and the streaks of gold that glinted in the light.

He always adored rocks, stones, crystals, you name it. He could go on a rant about un-necessary fun facts about them.

And so, he bent down, quickly snatched them and rushed to his dad. "Dad! Dad!" August smiled brightly, holding up the rocks. "Look what I found."

Daryl turned to him with a blank expression, clearly not entertained. "Kid, did you not listen to what the hell I said?"

"I know, I know . . ." August spoke low, his tone filled with disappointment and honestly his tone was rather sad. "—Nothin' we don't need."

"Exactly." Daryl roughly snatched the rocks from his hands. "We don't need fuckin' rocks."

"I know, but—"

August was cut off by Daryl chucking the rocks a good feet away from them.

"Go find somethin' actually helpful." Daryl said before turning back to the trunk and muttering to himself. "—And prove you're actually good for somethin'."

August heard that, but he didn't say anything. He simply just walked away, going back to searching the trucks and cars, holding his breath due to the nasty and acrid stench of deceased bodies.

⊹

AUGUST WAS
rummaging through the trunk of a car. He let out a deep sigh as his fingers searched through the various items, tossing aside random drawings, empty drink bottles, and other various pieces of trash. August had found nothing of value. The trunk was filled with nothing but useless junk.

Nothing useful . . . nothing helpful.

Quite like him.

He felt the rough sensation of something's grip on his arm and he was suddenly pulled to the ground.

Rick Grimes, was the one that had roughly grabbed his arm and forced him to the pavement below. The boy attempted to utter a question, but before he could even finish his sentence, he found himself being pushed under the car he had been previously searching through.

Swiftly Rick had rolled under the vehicle, following him. "What—" Rick shushed him, placing a palm to his mouth.

That's when August saw and heard them.

The sound grew louder, and his body tensed as he recognized the familiar groans and snarls of the walker's their legs stuttered and dragged along the gravelly road—a groan with each clumsy step.

୨୧ authors note! ⸻

daryl will get better, promise!

—Jo <3