The Ruins

Chapter 30

Mal stopped from rolling and hit the bottom of the ravine so hard that her legs buckled and she pitched forward into her face. Loose soil, tree roots, and small stones rained over her face.

She groaned, spat dirt out of her mouth, and clawed grass out of her hair and eyes. She takes it gently to rise up and get back on her feet. And without a doubt ran, jogged, and walked some more.

Then she froze in place for a minute later, leaning against the mature tree as she listens the flow of a creek up east. She moves her hands up, clenching them, her hands slick with red blood and brain matter.

In truth she could barely feel her hands. They were icy, detached, alien. Those hands had just done things that she didn't want to be done ever again. Mal looked numbly at them; at the bloody hands of a monster.

Mal wipes her eyes from the tears being formed and realized the blood smeared over her face. She goes over the creek, and looked through the watery reflection of the monster that caved through the deep part of her demons.

She was covered with blood and mud. The only injuries she had were a red bruise on the cheek, but she wasn't too worried of those injuries. More of the blood of someone else. Her stomach felt so sick. She wished she could vomit up the last few moments of her life, to expel these memories and experiences.

-:-:-:-:-

A large cargo truck zoomed through the path of the dusty streets, going hundred kilometres an hour, reaching to the destination of Farmington's sheriffs department. Fence gates wide open, the front yard was full of Infected shambling.

All the people came out of their vehicles, tackling the Infected's first with their melee weapons. As they did, the man himself steps out the truck, his beloved girl gripped in his hand while he enters the building.

The whole building was a slaughterhouse. Five people lay on the floor, or sprawled over the walls, or in a heap on their bed. Runners were infesting the body, tearing the flesh in their teeth and hands, aggressively ripping like a pack of wild animals. The people wander in front of their leader, using their guns in silencers, machetes, bow and arrows, anything to kill the Runners in a silent treatment.

The leader was wandering away from the door, he flicked the blood off his boot. His right hand man Alec peered out a room, resheathed his knife, a wrenching guilt on his face.

"Thirty survivors lived. The rest is-"

The leader nodded, looking over the mess. It was so wrong, so fucked up. These people; men, women, and children had their whole lives ahead for a great cause has ended quickly without them realising it. It such as cowardice and disturbing way to kill people. Killing them in their sleep is a big no-no. When he heard his radio calling, hearing the alarms, the muffled gunshots, and Patty ordering help, he jumped out of his bed and order his sleepy people, shouting in threats to move.

He's downright pissed to not come sooner.

Whoever you are, he'll find you and you wish for mercy. That'll only just revival him up especially being on their knees.

He's going to find every. Single. One. Of. Them.

-:-:-:-:-

Stanley pushed the dead body over him, the white paint is now red. He wiped aggressively at his left eye from the blood, tearing up and his eye turned pink, blurring a second on his good not eye-patched eye.

As he was attacked and shot in the leg, a Runner came up before he killed it and used it as a shield, laying there until the alarms are off and the Runners are distracted by the bodies. He stayed if anyone comes in his way yet he decides to find the boys.

Hopping his way he sees the exit in front. He hops and opens the door to be gleamed by the bright sun. It was the back entrance. Then his luck went up. He holds the handles of the motorcycle, he grinned like a cheeky bastard. He pushes the motorcycle, getting it out to the road-

SMASH!

The impounding impact made the Calvary Boy jump off his feet, slamming his elbow onto the hard ground. But when he tried to stand up, a man in long brown hair pushed him more. The action caused him to fight back, kicking as hard as he could, slapping at the man's face, pounding his fist on his chest. His attacker reeled back, letting go of him. He tried to kick him in the shin, but the man turned his leg and the other slammed on his care chest. He gasped out, his last breath caught in his throat.

He skirted in a crawl to escape and a huge crowd spread all around him, guns staring at him, completely helpless.

There were more of them, there wasn't fifty Saviors.

That was just a compound. Not a community.

Charlie betrayed them...

He made a hissing sound, filtered through rage and humiliation. His scream scared the birds from the trees and echoed off the town. His front of him he watched a shadow overpowering his height. He actually felt his body shake but won't show in his face.

The figure stood there in the harsh morning sunlight. A leather jacket and a red scarf around the neck, a grey denim jeans, with a leather belt sling across his waist, and leather boots that's worn. In his leather glove hand he held a bat that he suddenly realise who he is facing. It's him. Maybe not but he feels it's definitely him.

...Negan.

Charliebetrayedus. Charliebetrayedus. Charlie betrayed us! His body and mind screamed in rage.

And he laughed, spitting out blood and a tooth. Everything is clearer now. Now he knows why Charlie was so eager about this. Charlie had plans on his own, he tricked us just as a decoy so he can finish his own business, even if it means that Charlie will be a suspect. Nothing but a foul game.

"So you're the prick who killed my people? Well shit, you thought you could get away with this. Oh no boy. I know who you all are and I certainly will find every single one of you."

Stanley kept laughing, and as he rose to his knees, a monstrous smile.

"It was lie. Just a trap for us... ah, Charlie," he muttered. "You were right blondie, should of ran away before this shit..."

Then his eyes stopped at the bat high in the air, an instance tremble of fear, showing mercy, and it lands hard on his head, blood splattered at the soft grass.

-:-:-:-:-

Mal splashes water over her face, scrubbing all the dirt and blood off her body. She did stare a bit of her reflection. Her face without emotion. Mal eyes were hard and dry, as if all her tears had been burned away by what she'd seen.

When the crickets began singing, Mal got up and went through the trail of a deer path then out of the field. It went by an hour as she walked until her legs buckled and sat on a tree.

A pair of crowd flew over the canopy of the full trees in the sky. She has the memories of red dreams, imagines of all the faces she had killed before. It was not that she lost herself, but was never going to forgive herself of leaving the Saviors unarmed. She did pulled the alarms, she reminded herself. Some Savior may have escaped. She killed only two. One for self defence and the other... a reaction. But she didn't kill or participate.

She looks straight and a beautiful sight made Mal forget the past. A mature doe stares at her, not even afraid of Mal's presence, just looking at her suspiciously. Then the doe moved away.

Mal gets up and walks, hopefully finding her way to the RK's, her supporting friends, the adored children will be.

All this pain, she finally can go without any fear behind her back with her friends as she is disappearing into the forest.