Nothing But Dead (The Walking Dead Fanfic) Book 2

Come Join the Murder

Garrett sat on a couch in one of the abandoned houses they were searching for supplies. They have already went through this one early last year. Shane was with them when they were actually going through it. 

He stared at a painting that was in front of him. The art on the wall is beautiful in its corporate way. The flowers are white and the yellow nectar looks sweet. The petals fan widely over the canvas and sometimes when he stares to long at it we can see them dance in the wind. On the top is a layer of dust, there is no wind.The incrusive writing at the bottom read, "Our creativity brings our dreams to life; inspiring, enchanting, bringing us closer to God."  

The painting was too small. He wondered why the artist did that. Were they short on canvas and oils or was there a point? He wanted to see more of the flowers in the field. He wanted a 360 degree view. He wanted to be there, it seemed so peaceful there.

Then he realized, maybe it was better to just have a panel of a beautiful view. If it was a 360 view there could have been burned out buildings, dead bodies, Walkers. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head and thought to himself. Damn, even the Walkers are in my dreams. He sat up and placed his forehead in his hands and just stared at the ground. 

There had been multiple occasions over the winter where the Walkers just got too close, and almost destroyed everything that they had worked so hard for......everything that HE had worked so hard for. There was a time where he just though ending his life would be for the better. He wouldn't have to deal with the pain of survival, the heartache of loss, the coldness of the winter. He still wasn't over the thought.

"Garrett?" A soft voice came from the dinning room doorway. It was Lakota. Her long brown hair was braided up. "Are you okay?" She looked with concern towards him. 

He looked up at her. There she was again. The girl is like a snapshot out of time. Her youthful face was turned toward the sun. The two of them have grown close to each other. They grew to care, grew to love. The others in the group took notice as well. If Garrett were the president, then she was the first lady. 

She wore a pink shirt and jeans, that was his favorite to see her in and she knew. To Garrett, she is the world itself and without her he cannot enjoy life. When he went down that dark road, she brought him back. There is nothing he wouldn't do to keep her safe in this world.

"I'm fine." He lied underneath his breath. He was tired.

Every night is a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts. He didn't want to wake up anymore. Spending fourteen hours on watch for Walkers and other people takes a toll on the body; and he was tired of   repeating this process. A voice chastises him in his head, the longer he lies in that bed the more chance of sleep he has and the better tomorrow will be, maybe.   

Lakota walked towards Garrett slowly and sat next to him on the couch. She glanced at the painting that he was staring at earlier, and then she looked at at him. She grabbed his hand and placed it in hers as he sat back on the couch. "You can talk to me you know." She told him.

There was a long pause, he didn't want to talk. He didn't want to be here anymore. "I don't wanna be here anymore." He whispered for her to hear.

"Then lets go." She tucked at his arm.

"That's not what I meant." He looked into her eyes. She knew what he meant.

"Garrett." A mumbled voice came through a walkie that was sitting nearby on the table. "Garrett, you there?" Oscar was on the other end of the radio, talking through it. He was a few houses down scouting the places out and checking for any things that were useful.