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⠀A small curve of the hill didn't seem daunting at first, but just when the ground seemed to be reaching its peak, Isiah's leg practically screamed. But, even with that, his lips stayed sealed. He tasted blood spurting from the curve of his mouth. His tongue poked out to gather it, and he brought up his left arm to wipe the contaminated saliva away. And despite the dark shade of his clothes, they turned darker, and a deeper colour under the blood.
⠀Unlike earlier, he wasn't at the rear of the group. Rather, he found himself mixed into the assembly. In the middle, constantly wavering his path, so the other's wouldn't knock shoulders with him. And he had spent the last half hour gawking into the concrete below his feet. Somehow, trying to calculate how much time he loses with every limp. Was it minuscule and nothing to trifle over? Was it devastating?
⠀His head jolted upwards when the sounds of everyone decreased, so he stopped his pace, leaning to the left. Isiah let out a shaky breath, pressing the palm of his hand purposefully to his ribs.
⠀The young man stared at the back of Rick, spotting the sleeping Judith pressing her plump cheek to the side of the backpack. Something about... that innocence made Isiah's palm press just a little lighter to his side.
⠀Even if he couldn't see their faces, he knew that Rick and Carl were wary, but also incredibly dire. They needed supplies. The rivers had dried, and each corner of their current landscape held nothing but the remnants of a time long passed. Isiah hadn't tasted much but blood these past few days. He had cuts on the insides of his cheeks from all the guilty gnawing.
⠀Isiah blinked rapidly, feeling the sun hit his skin like a slap to the face. Sweat dripped from his temple, drenching his facial hair and making it tickle. So he quirked his jaw, clenching it tightly.
⠀"Dad, look," Carl directed to his father, and with that, Isiah's curious and observant nature made him steadily tread forward just a little more so he could see what they were looking at.
⠀Cars all pointing in different directions to each other, like a crappy game of Tetris, they zigzagged like a welcoming gate. Or like an alleyway filled with spiked walls.
⠀Something about not knowing exactly what was in those cars made Isiah feel nauseous. He hated fraudulent faith, but he made a small prayer to God, asking for help. He asked for anything and hopefully, he would receive. Not that he had been given anything before. His constant praying was unshakeable.
⠀"I'm gonna head into the woods," Daryl was the next to speak, and Isiah looked across the Grimes family to him. "Circle back." He knew that he had the opportunity to be alone and to come back safely, and Isiah didn't condemn him for that. If the Greene boy was physically stronger, and if the rest of the group trusted him enough, he would have taken a long walk by now.
