The Edge of Survival

Chapter Two

Nora worked silently alongside Glenn in the stables, the sound of water sloshing into buckets the only noise that broke the quiet. She had spent the morning brushing down the horses, focusing on the steady, rhythmic motion to calm the unease gnawing at her. Caballo nudged her shoulder with his muzzle, and she smiled faintly, scratching the space between his ears. The stables had always been her safe place, a small sliver of normalcy in a world that had lost all sense of it.

Glenn dragged a bucket over to one of the stalls and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "You know, I've been thinking about something," he said, leaning against the stall door.

Nora looked up, curious. "What's that?"

"Well, Hershel doesn't allow guns on the farm," Glenn began, his tone cautious. "And I get it. I do. He wants to keep things as peaceful as possible. But..." He trailed off, glancing toward the open stable doors. "What happens when we can't keep walkers out? How do we defend ourselves if half the group doesn't know how to shoot?"

Nora paused mid-brush, her hand resting on Caballo's shoulder. She had wondered the same thing. Hershel's rules made sense in a way—guns attracted more walkers with the noise, and the farm was supposed to be a sanctuary. But the world outside was different now. Danger didn't care about rules.

"Yeah," Nora said quietly, nodding. "I've been thinking about that too."

Before Glenn could respond, a sound interrupted them—a low, wet groan, followed by the unmistakable scraping of feet. They both froze, eyes snapping toward the entrance of the stable. A walker, filthy and ragged, staggered into view, its dead eyes locking onto them. It lurched forward, moaning hungrily as it shuffled closer.

Nora's breath caught in her throat. The stable felt suddenly too small, too confined. Panic surged through her, but instead of reaching for the pitchfork leaning against the wall, her body locked up. She couldn't move.

Her mind flashed back to another walker—a different time, a different place. Her brother Jack had been with her. They had been scavenging, searching for supplies in the small town nearby when the walker came out of nowhere. Jack had told her to run, but she had hesitated, too shocked to react. That split second had cost Jack his life. He had pushed her out of the way and fought the walker himself, but he hadn't made it. She had watched, frozen in terror, as the walker sank its teeth into him.

Jack's screams still echoed in her mind.
"Nora!" Glenn's voice snapped her back to the present. "Move!"

Glenn didn't hesitate. He grabbed a shovel, positioning himself between Nora and the walker. In one swift motion, he swung, the edge of the shovel slamming into the walker's skull with a sickening crack. The creature crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

For a long moment, Nora stared at the body, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn't moved. Again. She hadn't done anything.

"You okay?" Glenn asked, his voice tense as he wiped sweat from his brow.

Nora swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Yeah," she whispered, though she didn't feel okay at all.

Glenn sighed, nudging the walker's body with his boot before glancing at Nora again. "You can't freeze like that, Nora. I get it. I've been there. But next time, you've gotta move."

Nora nodded, but she could still feel the weight of her fear pressing down on her, the memory of Jack's death too fresh in her mind.

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After they had dragged the walker's body out and disposed of it, Nora found herself standing alone by the edge of the stables, her mind racing. She couldn't keep freezing like this. She couldn't be that person who was always relying on someone else to step in and save her. Not again. Not after Jack.