TWD: Last (Clementine X Male Reader Book 3)

Marinus-21

Marina

I found him! I can't believe I found him. I almost start crying, relieved that he's alright. But I have to stop myself; we're not out of the woods yet. We still have to make our escape.

I look him up and down, searching for any severe injuries. He's shirtless, which must be cold, and he's covered in bruises and a few spots of dried blood. The only real problem I can see is the blood loss and a few days of being malnourished.

He stumbles forward a few steps towards me and then collapses onto the floor, propping himself up with his hands.

Me: Dad!

I rush to his side, placing a hand on his exposed back.

Me: Are you alright?

Of course he isn't, but I still feel like I had to ask.

Dad: Marina, go home.

His voice sounds strong, unlike his look. But it wavers ever so slightly. I can tell that he's just putting on a show. I wonder how much he's been doing that?

Me: I plan on it. Come on.

I start lifting him up, but he pulls against me with the strength that he has left.

Me: Stop it and come with me.

Dad: How'd you get in here?

Me: I distracted them.

Dad: And how long do you think your distraction is going to last? You can't get me out of here fast enough on your own.

Me: You would do the same thing.

Dad: I can carry you.

His voice becomes stern, demanding that I listen to him.

Me: We have to try.

I start trying to lift him again. He reaches up, bats my hands away, and falls over on his side. He grunts. I quickly grab him and help him to a sitting position against one of the walls.

Me: We have to hurry.

Dad: Do you know what they're going to do with you?

Me: Nothing, because we're getting out of here.

Dad: They're going to cut two of your fingers off.

For Lizzy? That girl that I practically tortured.

Dad: Then they're going to hurt you to get me to give them whatever they want.

I know this.

Me: Quit struggling, and we'll be fine!

Dad: I bet you still have some time. Get out of here.

I give him a dirty look, and he chuckles. That's not what I was going for.

Dad: You kinda look like Clem when you do that.

Me: Fine. If you're not going to leave.

I sit down next to him.

Me: Then I'm not leaving.

His eyes are marked with fear. Not for himself.

Dad: That's extremely reckless.

Me: Will it get you off your ass?

He shakes his head in frustration.

Dad: You need to be less stubborn.

Me: Well, my parents are both very stubborn.

Dad: ... Help me up then.

He holds his arm out and lets me lift him this time. He's relying on me almost entirely to keep him standing.

Dad: Gimme your gun.

I oblige and hand it to him. He's a better shot, and it's not like he could do much in hand to hand combat.

Me: Are you going to be alright without clothes?

Dad: I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you.

Me: I'm in a better state than you.

Dad: Don't care.

I hear a door fly open from the direction I came from. Loud voices start to fill the halls as people flood into the building. They know I'm here.

Dad: In that room.

He whispers. I look to where he's gesturing and get us inside quick before anyone has time to spot us. It's dark, and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. We're in a small room, probably an old janitor's closet. People run past the room, and the loud voices continue. I watch the door intently, terrified that someone is going to come in.

Unknown Woman: She's dead, and he's gone!

They're talking about Dad. He was able to kill someone?

He taps me on the arm, I jump. He's handing me the gun back.

Me: Why?

Dad: Only for a second.

I watch him as he turns around and starts messing with stuff. He throws a big dark thing around him, and then it disappears and melts into him. He's putting on a jacket; good to see he's taking care of himself.

The next moments happen so fast that I barely know what's going on. The door flies open, and I'm not ready. I have the weapons, but I was too distracted by Dad. I should have been paying attention to the door. Three rifles are pointing at us, and they keep piling up.

Unknown Man: DROP THEM!

He's yelling at me. I throw my knife and gun to the ground and hold my hands up. Dad doesn't. He charges them, and they take him down almost instantly. A few of them pile on him, pinning him to the ground. I get up to help, but someone hits me in the head with something. I fall to the ground and watch Dad struggle as darkness creeps its way over my eyes.

Dad: Fuck you!

He's practically shrieking. It's the last thing I hear from him before I'm out.