Slipped: Book One

Chapter Three: Fading

    He dreams of what their first child would’ve looked like. They’d most likely have had Mandy’s eye color but when that gray color reflects off the sunlight, it’s like pieces of silver glimmering or even rocks shining off little specks of glitter. The child could’ve had his hair color or even a soft mixture of both of theirs but they’d end up mostly blonde. The thing he’s for sure of is that the baby would’ve been so loved and spoiled by the family. Hearing a soft laugh from their dream child sends him awake. Mandy is still laying next him with her hand underneath his pillow and a soft smile playing at her lips. Travis breathes in deeply once and releases it slowly, relaxing at the thought that they’re finally safe and secure. He rubs a hand over his wrist and twirls his fingertips over the bracelet clasp. Internally, he thanks Jack, Ian, and Clyde for giving them strength to keep going whether they want to or not. As quietly as he can, Travis slides out from bed and walks through their trailer towards their, holy shit, their fridge and twists open a bottle of cold water. Despite being cold, it sends the harshest shivers down his spine and he gasps softly. Taking another gulp, Travis steps his way back to their bedroom and has to do a double take at his sleeping wife. They have a home, an actual home where they can cook meals, dance like idiots, and sleep in an actual bed. They get to use the bathroom in their home and not worry about keeping watch. Travis sits down on the edge of the bed and just glances at Mandy. He chuckles once softly and crawls his way behind her, cuddling her close. “I love you…” he whispers before kissing her temple. “I love you, I love you, and I love you.” He repeats. “I’m not leaving you ever again…” he repeats his love for her again for lulling himself back to sleep.

                    Eight Months Before

    He doesn’t really know the parts of the woods near the highways like he thought. Along his path, he’s taken down four Blanks with his knife. He’s also almost lost his rifle twice because the damn Blanks have no sense of morals, let alone a fucking sense. Now he’s walking through a soft dusk with a chill hitting his bare arms. About an hour ago, he ran into a few Vultures tearing apart an abandoned car behind some trees and one of them ended up shooting his friends before running away with whatever they found. Part of him wanted to follow the bastard and the other part just wanted to leave and give Mandy a better fighting chance. He opted to just leave and now he’s here, trying to find his way across the river without alerting any Blanks or the murdering Vulture. “Fuck…” he mumbles and sighs deeply. He’d rather not splash around in the water and become a human sound bomb of sloshing clothing. Travis turns around and meets the water anyway as a Blank tackles onto him. He fights the fucker off with his forearm shoving at its neck and before it can grasp at his ankles, Travis jams his rifle end into the Blank’s skull. “Fuck..!” Travis pants and starts sloshing his way back to the RV; he hopes no one is awake yet.

    Thankfully no one was lurking around yet and Travis decides to act like he’d fallen in a puddle or something if someone hears him walk inside. When he steps onto the first stair, Travis sees Connor smoking a cigarette near the driver window. “Clyde’s gonna kill you if he smells that,” Travis whispers and sits down to remove his boots.

“Let him; it’s better than walking around with those murdering machines anyway.” Connor taps out the bud and sighs, sitting back against the seat. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Travis glances up at him; wide eyed and caught.

“I can explain-.”

“Just don’t tell my dad about me and you don’t ever have to.” Connor stares and hides the pack of cigarettes back in the front compartment. “Don’t forget how to scratch, Travis.” Connor shuts his eyes and acts like he’s going to sleep. Travis sighs softly and sulks his way towards Mandy. He sits down before her and caresses her cheek softly so she doesn’t wake up.