Shattered Wings

Chapter Six: Willow

Beth woke up the next morning to the sound of grunting and banging, she looked up and the cans were only shaking lightly, so she leaned over the seat slowly to get a better look. Much to her relief it was only a single walker banging on the door. Beth looked at it, the frail and dirty blonde hair, it's yellow eyes, the blood that streamed down from them. It reminded her of the prison when the illness spread and how they all thought that was the worse of it. Little did they know back then. Crawling into the front seat she slowly took down the can line and set it in the passenger seat. Beth must have slept for more than ten hours, she still felt tired. The walker wasn't worth a bullet, so she grabbed her knife from her boot and rolled the window down a little, leaning back as the walker tried to claw up at the opening. Quickly Beth reached out a shoved her knife in the walker's head, pulling it out and letting it fall down to the ground before she rolled the window back up and started the engine.

Part of her felt hard and cold, like her coma built up a hard exterior that she had never had before. Thinking about the walker back at the gas station she remembered how she use to try and think about who they once where, how they lived, what their name was. Now, they were just in the way.

A large sign that was covered in graffiti began to get closer, Beth squinted and hoped that it was for Richmond, seeing as she followed the map perfectly, or so she thought she did. With a reliving sigh she smiled and wondered if she was only putting more distance between herself and her people. Whoever this Morgan was, did he know Maggie? Rick? Daryl? Was this a wild goose hunt with no ending? If I don't find them, I'll go home to the farm. I'll rebuild. I'll be alone. Alone is ok. Beth repeated this to herself as she passed the Richmond sign, looking down at the gas meter and hoping she could get a couple miles out of fumes.

With luck she managed to get into a town called Fredericksburg before the truck puttered and came to a stop. Beth sighed and gathered her stuff, trying not to leave anything behind. As she stepped out into the road she looked around, there was a couple cars off the road, she walked over to one and peaked inside. There was a body in the driver seat, it was rotting away with a gunshot wound to the head. Suicide. Beth wasn't going to change opening the door and checking the car, she didn't want to have to move the body or sit in the seat where it was been rotting away for who knows how long. As she turned away from the car she watched a couple walkers mosey around in the field paying her no mind, she gripped her gun and began to walk down the road.

Headache, stop. Sun too bright, vision fuzzy, stop. Beth had been going for almost seven hours and she knew she was over doing it, but she wanted to get somewhere soon. The idea of being out in the world began to eat away at her, being alone was one thing, but not being somewhere was another. Beth walked over to sit down on a porch, she looked out at the road and jumped as a walker slammed into the window from inside the home. Watching the walker pat at the window she sighed, only wanting to take a little break. Beth popped a couple more pain relievers and looked up at the sky, it had to be about five, she could get three more hours in until she lost sunlight and her sight wouldn't be the greatest.

By the time she reached a town called Woodbridge she began to feel dizzy, but she had to find somewhere to rest. Along the way she fought off a few walkers, trying her best to not use her gun she would wrestle them away and take a knife to their head, only that added to her exhaustion. Beth finally decided to just find a car she could tie the doors together inside with her can line and try to get some sleep, if not just some rest. Cautiously she peaked in each car, praying not to run into a walker as she began to really feel light headed. Suddenly she heard it, a walker gargle and walk around the car she was looking in, Beth began to back away but her dizziness made her lose balance and she fell to the ground. The walker, a teenager with a long braid, stumbled it's way toward Beth. Shoot it...no, can't afford the noise. Beth swallowed hard and sighed, she got to her feet and grabbed her knife but before the walker got closer a bullet shot through it's head and it toppled to the ground. Beth was shocked, she looked around and focused on a young girl who was standing on a porch across the street, pistol in hand with a silencer on it. The girl lowered her gun, her long black hair dangled below her shoulders. Beth locked eyes with her, watching as she stepped down to the last step on the porch. "Where you headed?"

"D.C." Beth called out just loud enough for the girl to hear her, it was a good feeling, seeing someone out in the world. then Beth remembered how walkers were not a threat, people were. "Thank you. For the save."

"Wouldn't want your screams to attract more eaters. They don't look like much, but they're crawling all over this town." The girl looked around, "You alone?" Beth nodded, "You got a name?"

"Beth." She shoved her knife back into her boot, an attempt to show that she wouldn't be of any harm. "You?"

"Willow." The girl nodded, "It's getting dark...you got food?"

"Couple cans." Beth shrugged so her backpack moved a little.

"I'll take four. Let you sleep in the spear room." Willow pointed to the small house she was standing in front of, "You get locked in. My safety and all. I'll let you out in the morning."

Beth nodded, "That's smart."

"That's why I tell you know. You can accept, or you can leave." Willow nodded, "I'm not a bad person, but we all have to survive."

"I accept that." Beth took a step forward, "How about five cans. I've got corn, bread in a can, couple things of wax beans."

Willow smiled softly, "That'll do."

Willow held the door for Beth to step inside. It was a small house, but it reminded Beth of home. The wall paper, all the wooden furnishings, family photos on the wall. "You lived here?" Beth turned and looked at Willow. The girl, probably about twenty, shook her head.

"No...I'm from New York. My father and I...when this all started, we headed south in hopes to find sanctuary. We wanted to get to the CDC, but my father got sick," Willow crossed her arms, Beth began to realize that the CDC could be what Rick thought would be safe. A reason to go North, that is if they were in Virginia. "I was so young...he died when I was...maybe ten. Lost track after all this time."

"That's so young. What did you do after?" Beth set her bag on the table and began to unzip it. Noticing that Willow never put her gun away, finger still on the trigger. That was smart, Beth understood.

"There's a couple colonies around Virginia. Safe-zones. I spent a couple years in Hill Top, at least until I was fifteen." Willow nodded, "After that I decided to find a new home, I didn't care much for other people after my father died. I did trail along with a couple people through the years."

"What brought you here?" Beth set five cans on the table and zipped her bag back up.

"I've been in this house for about three months? I like to find homes, clear them out, and live in them for a while. It's like a different life in each one...that's weird I know." Willow shrugged, "But it keeps me entertained. How about you? What's with the battle scars? Should I be worried?"

"Oh..." Beth reached back and touched her scar behind her ear, "No I..." Memories flashed by, "I was held captive. When my people...my family came for me..." Beth shook her head, "It was my fault. But no, I wouldn't be worried."

Willow only nodded, "I'll show you to the room." She pointed at the stairs. Beth walked ahead so Willow could keep an eye on her, then when she knocked on a door Beth stopped walking and turned around. "Here."

Beth stepped inside, it was a small room with a sloped roof, but there was a small twin size bed against the wall and that was all Beth cared about. "Thank you."

"I'll be up in the morning." Willow shut the door before Beth could say anything, she listened as a key locked the door. It was odd, Willow must have turned the door knob around so it could function like that. No matter what she didn't care, she just took her tin can wire and tied it up near the door so that if Willow came in while Beth slept, it would wake her. After that she took her bag and shoved it under the bed, grabbed her gun, and lied down to finally get some sleep.