The Enemy

[4] Bloodlines

Chapter song // Augustana - Boston

"I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,"

➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴➴

Right. Right. Left. Right. Left. Left. Left.

    I took note of each turn we took, sitting in the bed of an army truck, with the 3 strangers driving. I caved the letters into the metal of the truck bed with my borrowed knife.

r r l r l l l

My mind drifted and before I knew it, I began carving the letters, T.C and L.C. The initials of my family. When I came back to reality, I crossed the initials out. Striking lines through them over and over again, with too much force until they were no longer there. I couldn't show weakness. I didn't know anybody in the truck. I didn't trust anybody in the truck. They were strangers. However, when we turned another corner and Glenn's unconscious head rolled over to rest on my shoulder I couldn't help but want to trust him. He seemed to have something about his personality that made him likeable and trustworthy. I couldn't bail on him, not yet anyway, I promised to help him find his wife–Maggie. 

    Glenn had passed out from exhaustion before we even boarded the vehicle. I made the choice of joining Abraham and his crew for him. It seemed the safest right now, I wouldn't be able to protect Glenn by myself, not while he's unconscious. When he wakes up we can discuss where we go from here.

     I watched the world pass by me. I made a game of it, counting the walkers we passed. Tara and I used to play a similar game, pre-apocalypse, when we went on holiday. Although, instead of counting the dead, we used to count cars. The grey Tarmac was smeared with blood here and there and road signs had bloodied handprints printed across them, concealing the road speed–not that we obeyed it anymore. Abraham was speeding down the long narrow road. He had one mission, get the man with the mullet to Washington. He could fix this. His name was Eugene Porter and he could actually fix the world. Put it back to how it was meant to be. Not that my life will ever return to normal. My whole family was gone. My entire bloodline wiped out–disintegrated.

    The tires squealed to a halt, and I was thrust forward and peeked over the truck bed, realising why we stopped as walkers wobbled around the truck and began clawing at the metal–the sound made my ears bleed, I wanted nothing more than to shield my ears from the sound, but instead I swiped the assault rifle that Abraham had given me from the floor and aimed it over the truck bed.

"Do not fire that weapon!" Abraham ordered, slamming the drivers door shut. "Shit. Look at what we got here," he chuckled evilly, swinging his crowbar around in his hand before thrusting it at the head of the nearest walker. Blood spilled from its head and it went down. He moved on to the next few walkers, embedding the crowbar in their skulls. The unrecognisable woman who was clawing at the truck with her sharp nails, turned her attention towards Abraham when she heard the commotion and advanced on him, "Oh, honey, look at you. You're a damn mess," he teased the walker before hitting her in the jaw. However, she didn't go down like the rest of the walkers, she lunged at him; probably pissed that he was teasing her. "Damn it," he hit her again twice as hard and her head hit the side of the truck, "Shit," he cursed, thrusting the bar into her chin–but she was still alive and clawing at the air between them. I jumped from the truck trying to give him a helping hand, "Can I borrow that a sec? Thanks," he replied when I chucked the gun I held into his waiting arms. Thought he told me now to fire the gun... But he didn't, he repeatedly smashed it into her head until it was nothing but mush. He swung around when a growl came from one of the walkers he hit on the floor, "Oh, I'm not leaving you out," he reassured, stomping its head with the butt of the gun. When he was finished, standing in the middle of the corpses, he thrust the gun back at me. I cringed as my hand encountered the blood and pieces of guts on the bottom of the gun. Defiantly have to clean it before I use it again. "There's some rags in the back," he must've seen my disgusted look.