In the Sound

I didn’t know how many I’d killed.

How many times I’d squeezed on the little trigger and watched one crumple to the ground. I’d seen a lot of their faces before. They were starting to move in from town, from the neighbor hoods nearby. Some of them I’d seen when Kit and I were holed up in that old house.

There were so many. Every shot sent five more coming my way.

In the distance I could see the barn, lit up like a fucking firecracker. Waves of heat were just skimming my cheeks. The cars were buzzing around the fields with screeches. One car turning so horribly that I knew it had to be Mags.

I could hear the low rumble of Daryl’s bike somewhere in the darkness. My eyes slowly stretched along the fields, searching for any sign of him. The sound soothed me. He was alive, I knew it. I wanted so badly to see him. To see that stupid little side smile of his, and to hear those thick southern insults.

But nothing.

All I could see were dead faces. Groaning. Stumbling. To the house. To the barn. Everywhere. I wanted to get out, there was no way we could stay here. But Herschel.

Herschel just kept on walking. Slowly. Steadily. Arms tight around his shot gun. We emptied our guns and reloaded in silence. Only it wasn’t silent. The night was rocked by thousands of thunderous gunshots. It was all that clicked against my skull. I couldn’t hear screams. Hear anything really. When I peeked over my shoulder, I could tell the women and Kit weren’t in the house anymore.

Kit.

I felt the sting in my eyes as they glossed over. Going in there was not an option. I could just imagine it now. Stepping inside, calling his name hopelessly. Rounding a corner to see his limp form on the wooden floor, breathing getting slower. I’d run over and drop to my knees. I’d bury my face in his warm coat for the last time. And then I’d click a pistol to my head and-

“Herschel, Nora! It’s time to go!”

Grimes’s voice shook me from my thoughts. I stared into the open air for a minute before my eyes focused on him. Rick was covered in filth and sweat. His clothes were tattered and littered in blood. Hair curly and tangled over his face. Carl was hovering at his hip, sheriff hat bouncing on his head. He peered up at me with panicked little blue eyes. Rick bent low so that we were eye height. Hand on my shoulder, voice crackly.

“Did you see Lori?”
Herschel intercepted me before I could speak. His hands were shaking bad around his gun. There was a line of sweat creasing his forehead. He looked tired.

“I don’t know what happened Rick. They just keep coming, they’re like a plague,” there was venom in his voice. The first time I’d ever heard Herschel talk about them that way.

“Did you see her?” Rick replied hotly. Our quiet was his answer. “We have to go.”

I rattled out of his grasp, “We can find ‘em! I know it!”

Rick leant in again, our chests touching, his lips brushing my ear. I could just see Carl’s hat bobbing left and right, checking for walkers like a good little soldier.

“Now, what I need to do right now, is get my sun the hell out o’ here,” his voice was even and firm.

The cop pulled away, raising his brows at me. I nodded. Like I’d always nod at Rick with whatever he thought was safest. He was right. He was our leader. Anything he said was right.

Placing a hand on Carl’s back, I ushered him after Rick. The four of us scrambled through the field of walkers, dodging around them. Rick’s steady aim sometimes catching one that got too close. My heart was all afire, mind racing like crazy.

Rick guided us to a car, jingling the keys in his palm. Carl and I headed for the back seat. A walker hovering by the back door lunged. With all of my might, I lifted my knee up and kicked it in the stomach. It stumbled back a few steps, guttural sounds escaping its throat. I pushed Carl through the door, pressing his hand down so that he didn’t bump it. My eyes were trained on the walker I’d kicked. He slowly rose to a wonky stand, arms swaying dangerously at its side.

Carl’s hat caught in the door. He rattled at it, scared little whimpers coughing out.
The walker leant forward and closed the gap between us. His teeth bared and snarling. Eyes yellow, hard on me. I unbelted my knife. Catching its collar, I drove my knife up through its neck. Splashes of blood streamed out, spraying over my shirt. I shut my mouth tightly. Its eyes dizzed around confusedly before they lulled over into death.

I dropped the walker, hearing it thud on the ground. Gripping my knife and pulling it out, I ducked into the car.

The door shut behind me.

Rick was fumbling with the keys in the front seat. He clicked them, turned and let the car roar to a grumbling life. With a jolt, Rick rushed us forward. He weaved around a few walkers, all grabbing and groaning for the car. The car screeched as he turned around them, jumping over grass ditches. The sound of rubble underneath the tires told me he reached the driveway.

I stared outside the window, nose pressed against the cold glass. A white fogged grew around my breath, but I could still see it. The farm, where I’d taken Kit so many times to get patched up my Herschel, flooded in death. The barn, where I’d seen Randall for the last time. Where my Dad had been living in for god knows how long. Burning to the ground, smoke sailing into the sky. The tree that Daryl’s tent sat under. Where I’d felt safe so many times. Now it was catching the flames.

It was all gone.

“Where’s Mum?” Quivered Carl.

I glanced over to him, tearing my eyes away from the home we sped away from. His hand rested in the seat between us. I didn’t know if it was shaking in fear or from the unsteady drive. Rick didn’t answer him at first. I guessed he was thinking of something to say.

So I scooped up Carl’s hand in mine.

“She’ll be at the highway,” Rick mumbled. “We’re all gonna be safe now.”

But I knew what he really meant.

We’d never be safe again.