Walker? or Zombies? (Walking Dead Game x Strong OC)

Chapter 37: The Weight of a Lie

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For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the world was graced with a new sound—a thin, fragile, yet insistent cry of a newborn baby. Nestled within a small, secluded alcove by the river, the group had sought refuge from the chaos of their surroundings. They existed as a tiny, weary yet fiercely determined enclave of humanity, their spirits buoyed by the birth of Alvin Junior—AJ, as Kenny affectionately dubbed him. This new life was nothing short of a miracle, a flickering candle steadfastly illuminating their bleak and suffocating darkness.

But time did not stand still for them. Their meager provisions had dwindled to nothing, and the plaintive cries of a hungry baby echoed like a dinner bell, treacherously loud in the stillness of the woods. They had to push onward, despite the heavy weight of fear that clung to them.

The journey was a slow, nerve-wracking affair, each step fraught with tension and apprehension. Their pace was dictated by Rebecca's recovery and the tender needs of the newborn, AJ. Every piercing wail from him sent fresh waves of panic crashing over the group, their heads whipping around to scan the silent, shadowy trees for any lurking signs of the dead. While the baby represented a flicker of hope, he was also a stark reminder of their vulnerability—a living, wailing testament to the danger that surrounded them.

Zack lingered like a phantom at the edge of the group, a silent, brooding sentinel. Fever burned through him like a relentless fire, consuming his strength. Although he had managed to staunch the bleeding from his arm, the injury had transformed into a grotesque, swollen nightmare, the infection spreading through his veins with sinister persistence. He felt weaker than ever, each movement heavy with pain, yet he spurred himself onward, his senses razor-sharp from the fever's grip and the gnawing agony in his body.

His patience had evaporated, burned away by the poison coursing through him.

"Hey, kid, you're lookin' a little pale there," Kenny remarked, stepping in sync beside him. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Zack snapped, his voice a low, harsh growl that hung in the air between them. He refused to look at Kenny, his gaze locked firmly on the path ahead.

"Alright, alright, just askin'," Kenny replied, hands raised in a peaceable surrender. "No need to bite my head off."

Zack merely grunted, jaw clenched tightly. He could feel beads of sweat trickling down his forehead despite the piercing cold, and a wave of dizziness washed over him, the trees blurring into an unsettling haze. Control it, he commanded himself, his inner voice sharp and unforgiving. Don't let them see. Don't be a liability.

A few paces behind him, Clem trailed like a worried shadow. The secret she carried weighed heavily on her, a cold stone lodged in her gut that made each breath feel laborious. Every time Zack faltered, every time a shudder rippled through his frame, her heart would seize, blooming with fresh terror. She lived with the burden of lies, straining to maintain a delicate facade every moment of every day. She had to lie to Lee, who persistently questioned her about what was troubling Zack. She had to lie to Katjaa, whose kind, watchful eyes seemed to read too deeply between the lines. The weight of her deception pressed down on her, an unbearable force crushing her spirit.

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As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the snow-laden landscape, they stumbled upon it: a dilapidated fishing cabin, half-buried in frost, standing forlornly in a small clearing next to a shimmering, frozen creek. The structure, with its peeling paint and sagging roof, looked utterly forsaken, yet it promised shelter from the biting wind.

"We'll stay here for the night," Lee declared, his voice tinged with a mixture of exhaustion and cautious relief. "Luke, Carley, you're on first watch. The rest of us, let's get a fire going and make sure Rebecca and the baby are warm."