"Not to be rude or anything, but why is he back?" you asked, pointing to Randall as Rick and Shane got out.
"Things went bad out there," Shane simply explained as he walked off.
You looked at Rick. "As in walkers?"
"As in walkers," Rick affirmed.
"Well, then, story of my life," you said, laughing. "Like, it's seriously not funny, but it is."
"Anyway," Rick continued. "We'll keep him in the barn until tomorrow and take him to another place then."
Everyone walked off, not knowing what to do next.
It was like a plague.
First, you found Dale dying. His guts were ripped out. Andrea was sobbing. Carl looked like he was going to put a bullet through his own head. Daryl ended his misery with two words.
"Sorry, brother."
And with that, an arrow was put through Dale's brain and a pit of sadness was put through your soul.
Dale's body was buried and you had a short funeral.
Next, Randall escaped.
You didn't know how, but he was gone.
Two search parties were sent out-- Rick and Shane, and Daryl, Glenn, and you.
You insisted on coming, not wanting Glenn out of your sight when it was almost night.
"Be safe," Maggie told you before you left. You hugged her and gave her your camera and left.
You, Daryl, and Glenn first walked around the barn. You thought about Randall, and how a skinny tied-up kid could get out of there.
"Any prints?" you asked.
"I don't see any," Glenn replied.
"Tracker?"
"I can't see 'em," Daryl said.
"Can you smell him, like in the air or something?" you asked.
"Shut up."
"Okay, Ear Necklace," you replied.
You thought about your sister and what the little braniac would've said.
(Y/N), it's simple, she would have said. He'd run straight to the woods to hide.
"The woods!" you said and walked off.
"You see tracks?" Daryl asked.
"My sister told me!" you said.
Daryl and Glenn followed you, Daryl mumbling about your mental state.
You looked around. No Randall.
"I see tracks," Daryl said, leaning down to the ground. "This way."
You and Glenn followed Daryl, copying every move he made.
"The guy was going in circles," Glenn said.
"Disoriented?" you suggested.
Then, you came across it.
Walker Randall. The third plague. The plague that shook your world forever.
Daryl shot him dead.
"He got bit?" you asked.
Daryl checked the body.
"No," he said in disbelief.
"Not even a nick?"
YOU ARE READING
Hope || Glenn Rhee x Reader
Fanfiction** DISCLAIMER: I wrote this when I was fourteen. Please keep that in mind when you read the overly dramatic passages, uncreative insults, and generally self-centered behavior. Grammar is 95% correct and story is very fun, but this was written by a 1...
