Broken Memories • The Walking Dead Fanfiction

17

Hi friends. Okay, enjoy this. There's a lot of pain in this chapter. Mostly Physical lol

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SKYE

"Skye? Skye..." A familiar voice faded in and out as I brushed consciousness. My head pounded and I groaned something awful, trying to rub my temples, but I was restrained, as my arms were tied behind me.

I felt nauseous and my stomach churned with every second I inched back to reality, but then, it hit me all at once. My eyes shot open and I gasped, a large amount of air filling my lungs. A huge wave of unsteadiness came over me and I felt as if I had walked through hell and back while I was unconscious.

"Oh thank God." Bob was tied up beside me, and of course, I was too. That unfortunately was something I could tell in my vague senses and red-tinted, blurry vision. "I thought you were dead."

Bob looked like a corpse, his eyes were foggy, barely open, and his face was a odd tint of gray. The man looked sick as a dog and I probably looked close to it; for I felt that way.

"W-what happened?" I choked. My eyes went from the sweaty, dark-skinned man to a camp fire, six or seven people sitting around it. They all were eating some sort of meat, too focused on their food to notice that both of their prisoners were awake.

"It's Gareth." Bob reminded me.

Great.

I looked over, behind the flames dancing, to see the man himself; his loud voice and messy hair gave him away in the group of people, and I made a face.

"I just woke up a few seconds ago. Skye, we gotta get out of here."

It all flooded back in a split second: the church, the walk with Bob, the attempt to clear my head, and passing out. Now, we were stuck in a terribly unfortunate situation; Terminus was out for blood, and Bob and I had been the two unlucky participants in their plan for vengeance.

"We'll never get out of here unseen." I shook my head weakly, blonde hair falling tangled around my face."Besides, we have no weapon."

"I can't get out of here without being seen. I'm too big. But you can. You can crawl. Your knots are loose; the ties look weak. Try to get out of them and get back to the church." He whispered with a low, strained voice.

I rubbed my hands against the ropes, and sure enough like Bob had said, they felt rotted and tender. I could easily yank through them if I was at full strength, but my muscles ached and twisted with every uneven breath. I felt my senses grow delirious in a constant speed.

"I'm not leaving you! If we get out of this, we're getting out together." I insisted, yanking at my burning hands despite the weakness that coursed through my thin body.

I felt the air grow tighter as he responded back, fury and fear ridden in his eyes. "You don't have a choice. I'm already dead, Skye! You have to get-!" Bob was cut off shortly.

Suddenly, the two of us stopped out bickering to see Gareth squat down in front of us, a sly grin on his face. I hadn't even seen him stand in front of us, much less walk to our captive selves; I had been too caught up in our narrow escape.

Gareth narrowed his eyes at the two of us and I held my breathe as his eyes sickly lingered on me lower than needed, but eventually, they found their way up to our faces. The smirk, toothy and wild, stretched on his face, and his sharp jawline shone with sweat from the humid night. His eyes glimmered with darkness as the dancing flames illuminated them-- similar to the devil.