SURVIVE.
❝ Let the end of the world be
inside you, then you don't
need to fear the end
of the world out there. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK ONE of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 1 - 3 ]
******
I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its...
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[ xxx. a good man ]
november 13th, 2010
➸➸➸
ASTRID LANCASTER FOUGHT DESPERATELY to free herself from the wave of walkers that spilled from the shattered window. With a surge of adrenaline, Rick leaped into action above her, driving his knife into a walker's skull, only to be dragged back down by its deadened weight.
Pandemonium reigned as Shane vanished from sight, and Rick struggled, pinned beneath decaying flesh, unable to move. Astrid suddenly found herself alone, unprotected. Gasping for breath, she clambered to her feet.
Fortune smiled upon her, as Shane's reckless escape drew the attention of most of the walkers, diverting them from her path. Her head pounding with panic, Astrid unsheathed her machete from her belt. With swift, precise strikes, she severed the head of one straggling walker, then used the body as a shield, sending others from the undead pack tumbling to the ground.
Then, sparing one last, terrified glance at Rick, still trapped amidst the ravenous mob, Astrid pivoted and ran. The car beyond the compound, her only sanctuary, beckoned. She slid across the hood of a nearby vehicle, her movements a blend of grace and desperation, narrowly evading the snapping jaws of the undead that chased her.
But she quickly realized she was not moving fast enough. With a guttural growl of frustration, Astrid spun back around, facing the relentless onslaught. She defied her instincts and dropped to the ground, sliding beneath the safety of a nearby vehicle. The world around her melted into a haze of snarls and shuffling feet. The scent of decay filled her nostrils, and the ground trembled as the walkers closed in.
It was a calculated gamble. But a glimmer of hope emerged. Astrid's heart pounded against her ribcage as her eyes locked onto a figure dashing toward her through the sea of monstrosities. It was Rick, his face a mask of bloodlust, his revolver poised for battle. Three walkers lurched toward him, driven by insatiable hunger, and he met their advance with gunfire. Two of them fell against him—and their unexpected collapse weighed the sheriff down, leaving him at the mercy of the final walker.
Without a second thought, Astrid surged back into action. She hauled herself from the shelter of the vehicle's undercarriage, and in an audacious display of strength, she seized the walker by its sinewy shoulders, wrenching it away from Rick's prone form. The air filled with powerful growls and a shower of splintered bones as Astrid hurled the creature to the ground. A primal roar echoed in her ears as she brought her booted heel crashing down upon its skull, over and over again, until the grisly execution was silenced and her jeans were splattered with blood.
As Rick clawed his way from the mound of corpses, Astrid extended a steadying hand and pulled him to his feet. "You alright?" He asked her.
Chest heaving, Astrid leaned on her knees, trying to regain her breath. With unwavering resolve, she met the sheriff's gaze and nodded. "I'm fine," She answered. "Where's Shane?"
