When The World Ends

The Devil You Know

(Jade's POV)

The tracks stretched out ahead of us like an endless scar, slicing through the woods and bleeding into the horizon. We'd been walking since the sun cracked open the sky, and now it hung overhead, hot and glaring. The silence between Rick and me had been gnawing at me for miles, chewing at the edges of my thoughts like a rat on old rope.

Every once in a while, his hand would brush against mine. By accident. Probably.
I kept my eyes forward. Kept my mind forward.

New boots. New socks. It was the best stroke of luck I'd had in weeks. The blisters that had been threatening mutiny on my heels were finally quieted, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn't limping. I should've been happy about that. But instead, every step just felt heavier.

The air behind us shifted with laughter.
I glanced over my shoulder.

Carl and Michonne had drifted back, balancing on the rails like they were kids playing on a jungle gym instead of survivors of the goddamn apocalypse.

"What are you guys doing?" Rick called, his voice cracking the quiet like a stone through glass.

Carl grinned, arms out like airplane wings. "Winning a bet."

"In your dreams," Michonne shot back, teetering beside him with that rare spark in her eye.

I slowed my pace, letting them have their moment. Rick did the opposite, stepping toward them, watching like he didn't quite believe what he was seeing. Like it was a mirage that would blink out if he stared too long.

Michonne wobbled first. Arms pinwheeling, she slipped off the rail with a grunt, boots slapping the gravel.

"Ha!" Carl whooped. "Yes! Pay up."

She rolled her eyes but dug into her pocket, handing over a crumpled little pouch. I caught the glint of candy wrappers in the sunlight.

Carl tore into it, but before he even finished opening the bag, Michonne leaned over and snatched a piece for herself.

They bickered. They shared.

I turned away.

The laughter felt like a ghost. Something from another life, pressing cold fingers into my ribs. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and kept walking, putting distance between me and them. Between me and everything I couldn't have.

Boots crunched behind me a few minutes later.

Rick.

Of course.

"You good?" His voice was low, careful. Like he wasn't sure which version of me he was going to get.

"Peachy," I said.

He matched my stride. We walked like that for a while, just the rhythm of footsteps and the wind combing through the trees.

I could feel him trying to build up to something. The way his shoulders kept shifting, like the words were crawling up his throat but getting snagged on his teeth.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "About... uh... back at the house."

Oh god.

I kept my eyes on the path. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Brilliant. Truly riveting conversation.

"I just... I don't regret it," he said, voice dipping low, almost cautious, like Carl might somehow hear us from twenty feet back. "But I... didn't exactly mean for it to happen that way. With Carl around. Or Michonne. I wasn't thinkin' straight."