Alone

Chapter: 20 // today dear •

The alarm clock reads five-thirty-five in big, red, bold letters, and I'm awaken by screams coming from the lower level of the Barrington house. That's when I realize that Ron isn't in his bed, and panic starts to set in. All hell has broken loose. I pull myself off the chair and my legs feel like Jell-O, nevertheless I grab my butterfly knife from under the sole of my shoe and make a beeline for the door. As soon as I step into the hall I hear another bout of blood curling screams, and under my foot is a puddle of warm, sticky blood. Spit pools in my mouth, and I fight the urge to vomit. I follow the bloody footprints down the steps, and it's something out of a horror movie.

Ezekiel shines his flashlight on the bodies of casualties lying on the floor in the den, having been essentially eaten alive by roamers in their slumber, apparently. It's dark, I step over limp limbs and warm puddles of blood, holding my hand over my nose because of the putrid smell. People are yelling for help, wrestling with the dead, some crying. I try to call out Ron's name, but the words don't even make it to my lips before Jesus calls me. I hadn't even realized he'd been over there this whole time.

"Go," he tells me in hushed tone, beckons to the door.

"But Ron--" I start, and he holds his arms out for me; I step over bodies to meet his warm embrace. He holds me tight and says it's okay, that he'll find him, that I should go outside where it's safe. I reluctantly go. I inhale the fresh air and tears pool my eyes. People come running out after me like bats out of hell. I don't even know what's going on, where Ron is, but I do know that I've seen the faces on those roamers before and they're not outsiders. They're ours. They're the same ones who were wounded last night by the Saviors, but their injuries were minor compared to Ron's. They weren't bit. But they turned.

I hear six gunshots, each followed closely by the other; an automatic. But they don't sound like they're coming from the Barrington house, and I don't remember seeing anyone carrying an automatic inside. Followed by those gunshots are screams, then I see a group of POW's make a mad dash for the gates, rat face armed with an automatic. The door to the pen is ajar, and only a few other POW's stand inside looking on. I have to go warn the others.

I pull back the door and it's quiet, dark, and empty. Bodies are strewn over the floor, dead ones. I climb up the stairs, indistinct chatter fills the air and I travel closer to the sound, hoping to find it's source. I stumble upon the bedroom at the end of the hall just as Rick, Daryl, and Maggie rush inside and I'm right on their heels. For some reason, instead of rushing in to tell them, I hide behind the door.

"You alright?" Daryl asks a knife wielding Carol, blood on her forearm.

"Yeah, just...he wasn't bit," she says, staring at a dead Tobin on the bedroom floor. "But he turned." They glance at him and then back up at her in silence.

"Negan's bat," Rick leans down next to him. "When I was out there with him, it was covered in walker blood. I just thought he'd crossed some. But maybe..."

"They have us working for them again. Killin' our own." Maggie says, breathing heavily.

"It's the fever," a man's weak voice utters, "that's what it is. It makes sense now." Whoever's voice it is makes everyone quiet, Rick rises to stand, still staring at the man.

"One of you... you're gonna have to do it. I can't. You gotta do it for me." He cries, "please." I don't stay to hear the rest, I can't. I sneak back down the hall and duck and hide in another room, waiting on them to leave so I can follow where they go. A moment later, Rick and Daryl start down the hall and a few doors down, they stop and enter a room. Maggie goes down the steps, and so I decide to follow her instead. She meets Jesus, Kal, and the others in the lobby, they exchange words and then they head outside, I follow close behind instead of hiding. Outside, a POW swings a hoe at a roamer Siddiq had been struggling with, and it falls to the ground with a soft thud.