This Is Our World Now -A Walking Dead Fanfiction

Chapter Nine: Skies

When morning comes, I find myself sprawled on the back of Danny's truck. I sit up and stretch, yawning widely. The morning sky is a beautiful pink-purple, with wispy clouds making white trails through it. The air is brisk; it is October.

I take in my surroundings, remembering the drama of last night. Danny is asleep beside me, but I don't wake him.

On the truck bed with us is a group of older teenagers that I don't know. Maybe Danny's class that was assigned to his truck with him. Most of them are also out, exhausted from the excitement of the previous day.

Outside the vehicle, down on the ground, are some of the adults. Preparing breakfast, guarding the perimeter of our makeshift camp, doing whatever needs to be done. I hope nobody is upset that I didn't make it back to my assigned truck to sleep, but I don't think people cared after they heard what had happened.

I take Danny's bag and scoot to the back of the truck, out of the way of the sleeping people, then I dig through his bag. I pull out a big gray sweatshirt with a strange turtle symbol on it. I thrust my head and arms through the holes, tug the hood up, and hop down silently from the truck.

Some of the teachers are sitting on the curb next to the airport building, eating canned fruit and crackers. I begin walking towards them, but change my mind halfway there and turn to walk away. However, Mr. Canello sees me and calls me over.

"Annalyn, we were planning on having a group breakfast later, but since you are up, do you want some peaches?" He holds out a can.

"Thanks Mr. C, but I'm good right now. By the way, sorry about being in Danny's truck last night..."

Mr. Canello smiles sadly, "It is entirely okay. We understand completely. This world is crazy, and I'm not about to get on you about where you sleep in a camp 100 feet long."

I thank him, and acknowledge the other teachers before heading back to my own truck. As I walk there, I am stopped by someone's hand grabbing my shoulder. My eyes follow the hand up to the face it is connected to and I immediatly pull my arm back.

"Hannah Hartman, what do you want?"

"Annalyn, I'm so sorry about Nora..."

"Why do you care?" I ask skeptically. Hannah Hartman and I have never gotten along. In first grade, she killed my "pet" worm, Slimy. So I cut off one of her pigtails. In fourth grade, I accidentally spilled grape juice down her new yellow blouse, so she dumped my lunch on the floor. In seventh grade, I liked this boy named Oliver, and I was going to ask him to the Valentine's Day Dance, but she found out and asked him first. So I told Oliver that she had only asked him because she liked his best friend. Oliver didn't really talk to either of us after that. To this day, Hannah Hartman and I don't get along almost ever.

She looks at me sadly, like she really wants me to believe that she cares. I can't tell if this is an act or not.

"Annalyn, I saw it happen."

"What?"

"I saw Nora...die."

"Oh..."

"She was almost to her truck, but one got her. A roamer got her. Then the truck pulled away and I...couldn't see her anymore. I wanted to help, I really did. But my truck was already leaving..." She looks at her feet. I barely notice the tears running down my cheeks. But I keep watching her, hoping she has something more to say about Nora, anything at all. Suddenly, she looks straight at me.

"Annalyn, I know we don't like each other, and I don't know how you are believing me about all this, but I want you to know I am sorry. I'll...see you around."

I mutter a thanks and quickly walk to my truck, grab my duffel bag of belongings, and head back to Danny's truck. I crawl up and dump my bag next to his. Danny is up now, solemnly watching the morning bloom. I sit down and curl up against him, and together we watch the sky morph from pink to blue, trying to forget this new, cruel world.