𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 ➪ «𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛»

ch. XLI - 《worse than punishment》

oOo

Lightheadedness made her sway up on her perch, which ultimately led her to climb down the tree. She didn't want to remain stationary for long. That was the best way to accomplish nothing. And the best way for the pressure she put on herself to choke the air out of her lungs.

So, once grounded, she found herself a sturdy fallen branch to use both as a defense against any walker she might encounter and to support her atop her tired legs. She rounded the farm, stalking around it like a predatory animal, examining her options.

She was too weak to keep looking for Sophia, those were the shitty shitty facts. She was hungry and thirsty and in pain, her judgment was clouded and her reflexes sluggish at best. Intrusive thoughts exhausted her mind, driving her to near insanity with negativity.

But she didn't want to give in, didn't want to turn to the more comfortable variable.

She couldn't trust the farm people; she didn't know them, how they would react to her sudden presence. Not that she was much of a threat in her state, but what if they thought she was bait? Or that someone from a larger group sent her to scout them. That's what she would've considered. She'd never trust a lone small girl appearing out of nowhere. Straight up creepy.

So what if that had been what happened to Sophia? Like her, she'd found the farm, and now she was being held captive in there somewhere.

But then again, she was naturally too damn cautious. Not everyone shared her mindset. Although they should, 'cause she was rarely wrong.

Things changed when she spotted a human figure breaking through the tree line about two trees away from where she had been perched. She crouched, her thigh muscles giving in halfway and forcing her to her knees, still grabbing onto her walking stick.

The only feature she recognized was the hat on the guy's head, and that was enough to know it was Rick. Her heart lightened inside her chest and a knot formed in her throat.

She squinted at him as he ran up the field toward the farmhouse. Rick was holding a smaller body; it jostled against his chest like a rag doll, and he had to slow down multiple times to adjust it.

He'd found Sophia.

She exhaled deep and slumped forward, forehead leaning against her hands around her walking aid. Relief and something sharp and contradictory playing opposite games in her mind. The next breath she took was accompanied by a sob, surprising her.

Her hands flew to her mouth, letting the branch fall to the dirt.

Despite her best efforts, she hadn't been the one to find her. It was selfish, yes, but she had hoped to redeem herself through that little girl. By finding Sophia, she'd be saving someone, at least someone.

She was used to putting minimal effort in everything she did and still coming out with the upper hand, succeeding even if by a small margin. Not this time.

Everything hit at once, an avalanche of repressed emotions and thoughts she assumed she had been strong enough to ward off. Relief, yes, but also hurt, regret, rage, grief. She hadn't been able to save her parents; she hadn't been able to save a little girl. It tore through her, ripping a hole in her chest.

And Alice cried. Alice cried like she hadn't in a long time, like she hadn't since grandpa had died, and it hurt. The sobs that shook her body, the whines and cries that burned in her throat, eyes that swelled and flowed with unending tears. She was at her most vulnerable. She cried because she hated it. She cried because she felt useless. But ultimately, she cried because she really fucking missed mom and dad.