Dead love in my hands (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)

Locus coeruleus

It began to dawn imperceptibly outside the window. A thin streak of dawn slowly stretched across the sky. I didn't care where we were going: to New York or somewhere else. It's all pointless. Troy is gone. I couldn't believe it was all true. My thoughts seemed to be shrouded in fog. I looked at the package that my "kidnapper" handed me at the beginning of the flight. For some reason, I didn't feel sick at all, but something was squeezing hard in my chest, and it hurt to breathe. I covered my mouth with my hand, and suddenly the watch on my wrist flashed in the light of the first rays of the sun. Our first fight, our first kiss, our first sex flashed before my eyes... Tears rolled out of my eyes.

"I have to go back," I said quietly, unexpectedly to myself.

"What?" Elizabeth furrowed her brows. She really didn't seem to have heard.

"I said we have to go back! We have to go back for him! Turn your fucking helicopter around!"

"Don't even count on it."

"Maybe he's still alive!"

"That's impossible," Elizabeth chuckled, "Brandon doesn't miss. Never. I'm sorry, but your husband is definitely not a tenant anymore. It's good if the sergeant shot him in the head. And if not... then... Well... then in a way you're right."

The lieutenant colonel looked at the man who was sitting at the control panel of the helicopter. He was still wearing his helmet. I couldn't see his face, but I felt that there wasn't a drop of emotion on it. At that moment, I was seized with a rage that I couldn't control. I fumbled in my pocket for a nail file and rushed to Brandon. My hand pressed the nail file against his neck. It wasn't a very good weapon, but at least I could pierce his neck.

"Turn that fucking helicopter around!"

"Or what?"

I pressed down on his neck, making it clear that my intentions were serious.

"And what's next? Do you know how to fly a helicopter?"

I sighed heavily and sat down in my seat.

"A reasonable decision," the pilot said.

"You'd better tell me about yourself," Elizabeth looked at me with interest, "we still have time."

I took off my headphones to let her know that I wasn't going to talk. The lieutenant colonel shrugged and turned to the window. It seemed that there were only three of us in the helicopter: me, her and Brandon, because three more soldiers sat in silence the entire flight. I just wanted to land as soon as possible. The feeling of the ground under my feet would give me an advantage. I could have run away.

***

"Well, what are you counting on? Who do you want to find here?" Clark asked, taking a tired drag on his cigarette.

"I don't know. But for now, that's all I can think about."

"We need to come up with something else. This place is only good for getting high or finding a whore!" Nick exhaled smoke.

"Do you know this firsthand?" I raised an eyebrow disapprovingly.

"Fuck you, Troy," he shook his head, "add seriousness, otherwise it will seem that you have already come to terms with what happened."

"Shut up," I grabbed Clark by the shirt, "do you understand?! I'm not myself without your comments. Don't push me!"

Nick pulled away from my grip.

"I don't want to listen to your reproaches. I need your help."

"Then accept it and accept its costs."