Hearth | The Walking Dead

𝐕𝐈. SUPPLY RUN

CHAPTER SIX

SUPPLY RUN

FIVE DAYS ON THE ROAD, and things were, all things considered, as well as they could be. Food wasn't plentiful, but there was enough to ration for a few days; and they could loot while on the move, Warren had noted, relieved that he didn't have to go nearly twenty miles on foot (both ways) to find food for the group anymore. Water wasn't as scarce; Stephanie had a filter that made river water safer to drink. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing, and the river stretched on for miles; the group still hadn't reached the end of it, giving them plenty of water to drink.

The group themselves were an alright bunch, Sydney had decided. Everyone but Dirk had seemed to take the change of scenery in stride. They'd welcomed Abraham, Sydney, and Eugene into their company with open arms; Rosita had even returned their weapons. Dirk, it seemed, was the only one who hated the three of them—but for a reason she couldn't place, he loathed Sydney the most.

Sydney tried not to focus on it, even if her people-pleasing instinct reared its head at the thought of someone not enjoying her company. She was a delight to be around, thank you very much—at the very least, she had given Dirk no reason to despise her the way he did.

"It's best to stay out of his way," Rex told her, frowning in Dirk's direction. The other boy was eating at the edge of the firelight, keeping to himself while still sitting close to his uncle. He'd practically dragged Roger away while he and Sydney were discussing the Lord of the Rings series, which had come up during a conversation with Josephine about the shared book interests of the group. "He's had some tough times."

"I think we're all having a tough time," Sydney argued, poking at the mush she'd been served for dinner. It was fish-something, from the river. She didn't want to know. "Why does he get a pass for being an— . . . being a loser," she said.

Rex shook his head, trying not to grin. "You can swear, dude. It's not the end of the world." He gained a considering expression. "Actually, it is. Perfect time to swear, if you think about it."

"I'll get in trouble with my dad," Sydney muttered.

"Can't exactly ground you from anything meaningful," Rex argued.

Sydney spared him the smallest of smiles before turning her attention to the fire. It was much harder for the warmth to wrap around her when they were outside. She owned a sweater, but in the year-ish since the end of the world, she had outgrown it; she was taller now, and the sleeves stopped before they reached her wrists; it was smaller on her, too, the fabric tight when she wore it, so she had taken to using it as a pillow. At least it hadn't rained since leaving the facility.

"We need to do a supply run," she said, looking up at Rex.

He shrugged, swirling his spoon in the mush he'd been served. "Anything specific? We have food and water."

"Clothes," she said. "I'm getting sunburned during the day and almost dying from hyperthermia at night." She didn't dive into the specifics, but Rex nodded in understanding; Stephanie had begun sharing her clothes with Sydney, as they were around the same height despite their age difference. Sydney seemed to be getting the Ford genes from her dad, rather than the Clark ones from her mom. There were only so many clothes they could share, though, and Sydney wasn't the only one in need of new ones.

"I'll ask Grams," Rex decided. "And maybe we can talk to Roger. He grew up in this area, he might know if there's a town nearby."

Sydney frowned. "Roger grew up in the woods?"