Something Wild

Part III: Chapter Nine

Hellooo! Okay, so here's the deal. I'm going to post two chapters every couple days. The time between updates won't always be consistent but there will always be two chapters.

Aannddd here we go! There's been a time jump so take note.

Enjoy!

Part III Chapter Nine:

It's been a month. Val has refused to leave the house where we found her family. Actually, she refused to leave the bedroom upstairs. I can barely convince her to eat and drink. She won't talk to me, she barely sleeps, I hear her crying at all hours of the day. There isn't much I've been able to do to help her. I've tried talking to her, holding her, giving her space, and nothing has changed.

I don't blame her, nor do I expect her to get over this so easily. She had to kill her whole family. No one bounces back from that quickly. But I'm starting to worry. We're running low on supplies, and it's not safe to spend this long in one spot. Rotters and Screechers could overwhelm us at any point. And since Val isn't in the right mental or physical condition to fight them, I'd be left with my singular good arm, a machete, and no where to run, because there's no way in hell that I would leave her behind.

So, I've been biding my time. Taking care of her when she'll let me, keeping watch for Rotters in the neighborhood, and trying not to lose my ever-loving mind.

"Val," I say as I enter the room, a canteen of water in my hand and a bag of jerky in the other. "I need you to eat something for me, it's been a few days..." She's curled on her side, facing away from the door. Her hair a knotted mess, eyes a dull and vacant blue, puffy from crying.  I move around to the other side of the bed, leveling myself to look her in the eyes. "Valerie, please."

"Go away."

"Not until you eat and drink this," I say putting the snacks next to her on the bed.

"I don't want to," she snaps smacking them off the bed. The canteen clatters to the ground, the jerky bag landing on my lap. She flips onto her other side, facing away from me. "Get out."

"No," I say and crawl into bed beside her, sitting with my back against the headboard. "I'm not leaving you." She sits up angrily, glaring at me. I don't flinch, I don't move; no part of her anger is threatening to me. It has nothing on the anger I've seen from my dad.

"I said, get out, Madison. Go, leave. I don't want you here, I want nothing to do with you!" She's kneels on the bed, yelling in my face, fist shaking chaotically by her sides. "This is your fault! If you hadn't been so stupid and let yourself get captured—if you didn't make me shoot you! We would've been here sooner, they would've still been alive."

"There's no way we could've known that," I say calmly. "I'm sorry, Val, I'm really sorry."

"I hate you," she hisses between clenched teeth. "Do you hear? I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" She tries to lash out, I know she doesn't mean to, I know she doesn't actually want to hurt me. Gently, I latch onto her wrists, wrapping my hands around them to keep her from hurting me, from hurting herself. "I hate you." She says more quietly, tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes. Her fight subsides, her body slackening in my hands.

"It's okay, Val. I promise, it's going to be okay," I whisper staring into her eyes. "You're going to make it through this, okay? Together. I'm not going anywhere, I'm not leaving you. You don't have to lose me too."

She tugs weakly at my grip, "let me go. I don't—I don't care anymore. I don't want to fight anymore, Mads." A broken sob tumbles from her lips and tug her toward me gently, holding her against me. My arms wrap around her body and she tucks her head into the crook of my neck.