[Telltale] The Walking Dead [Inactive]

A warm, familiar feeling tickled his belly when Aylaela gave him a friendly pat. These were good people, and in favor of catching some shut-eye he suspened his distrust. "Thanks," he mouthed at her. Then rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes, "do you mind?" he asked. The metal box on wheels felt oddly safe to him. The steady humming of the engine soothed him. Sleep and dreamy thoughts seeped into his mind. Logan was dead and Dex, well no one knew what had happened to him. Much as he wanted he knew he should be shocked to hear that, he couldn't bring himself to it. He hadn't known these people, hadn't met them or talked to them. Their names meant nothing to him, for all he cared they'd been pets.
 
Logan is dead.





Jon shook his head, he had talked to the man hours ago. Now he was dead. Keeping his eyes on the road he kept the vehicle moving, there was a time to feel grief, but it was not now. Evan had said something about a gas station, and that was the most important. The gas should still be usable, the apocalypse hadn't started that long ago.


As Evan put his head down to sleep, and Lia began to cry, he motioned behind himself with his right hand. "Guns, what do we have? We're going to fill this thing up, and leave the city. Quickly and efficiently." Gas station, that wouldn't take that long to find.


Looking for a more commercial district while moving away from Crawford, he stared down the street as it started the meld together. Endless roads of abandoned buildings.
 
Aylaela shook her head slightly, shocked that he laid his head so willingly on her shoulder, "Not at all."


Looking through what she could see of the front windshield, she was reminded of her sister's cuddling tendencies. She had been an avid believer of the concept of heat conservation if only so she didn't have to sit alone through a horror film.


The thoughts of home made the girl's heart ache with homesickness that couldn't be cured. Aylaela looked around the Jeep at their rag-tag group, a compilation of differing backgrounds and lifestyles that she wanted to explore. Just yesterday she had been on her own for almost two months and now she was crowded into a vehicle, hurtling along to only God knew where.


When Matthew mentioned the two from their previous group, Aylaela frowned, but she felt no real sadness except for the people left behind to be affected. Lia's singular sob echoed around the silent Jeep, engine filling the heavy silence afterwards. How terrible to fall to one of your own race when things were already trying to eat you alive.
 
Sam felt the wind flow through his hair as the Jeep soared to God knows where. He let the breeze distract him and for a moment, he slipped into a memory.


********


Sam was walking home when he heard a loud screech behind him. An SUV swerved left and right like a confused missile until its own force finally caused to flip over. Sam flinched as the vehicle's windows exploded across the pavement, the shards dancing across the street.


The vehicle rolled once, twice, three times, so many times Sam had lost count. The car finally came to a rest in the middle of the road, which was empty. Oil began to collect around the car.


Surprisingly, he heard a weak moan come from the car. "Help.." Sam inched forward until he saw a woman gasping for air. He gulped and went to the window. Next to her, the driver’s face was distortion of bright red flesh and his mouth had filled with blood, like an overflowing chalice. The woman reached out a bloody hand and Sam went to grab it.


Suddenly, the man moved, sprung back to life. He looked confused. Gradually, a scratchy noise rose from his throat until he looked at his passenger and opened his mouth. Before Sam could get her out, the man placed his teeth around her collarbone and bit. A sickening crunch filled the air accompanied by the woman’s piercing shriek of pain. Her outstretched hand fell limp. Sam fell backwards and ran. Where he ran he didn’t know, but all he did was run. He tried to escape her dying voice. When he did, he didn’t. It was still there. It rang inside his ears and ricocheted inside his brain..


That was his first experience with the undead..
 
Something akin to happiness made him shiver a bit. He readjusted his head on her shoulder and allowed the world to fade to black. In his mind he pretended he was leaning against his mother's shoulder and that when he'd wake up, his father would step out of the front seat and they'd be at some place. A museum or a natural park or something. Though he found it suprisingly easy to imagine, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was all too aware that he was fooling himself and struggled not to whimper. Shit fate to conquer all sorts of perils and lay eyes upon a variety of horrors, only to be defeated by homesickness. Yet, the yearning in his heart was the only thing that kept him from falling asleep.


Keeping his eyes closed he asked, "Aylaela? Where are you from?" voice soft so that only she could hear.
 
Blinking away her thoughts, Aylaela looked down at the head on her shoulder before gazing out the windshield once more. "Macon," she says quietly, not attempting to hide her voice, but speaking softly in respect for her home.


"Well, really it was a farm on the edge of Macon," she revised, sighing deeply as she remembered the rows upon rows of fertile land, towering trees, and bright golden days. Aylaela focuses on Sam's shoulder, fixation on a place in space, to keep her eyes from welling with tears.


"What about you Short Straw?" The girl teases, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards halfheartedly to distract her thoughts.
 
He smiled briefly at his new found nick name. Meditating on it for a little while he decided he wasn't too offended by it though he vaguely wondered if it -in some way- implied a short temper. "I've never been to Macon, but I did live on a farm too with my mom and dad and my little sister." A sigh parted his lips as he remembered how live used to be and he hated himself for only valuing it now. He noticed a slight tremble in her shoulder and knew he wasn't the only one who wanted to go home.


"We had wheat on our land, and some Apple trees. My father used to sell it on the market and every Saturday he'd take us on a trip. He took us to an observatory once, Arksky I think. He bought me a book afterward, I still have it in my bag-"


His eyes fluttered open, "my bag..."


Now he truly was lost.
 
Sam awoke with a jolt. It was only a speed bump that pulled him from his light sleep. He wasn't going to get any rest just yet especially after that day's events.


Sam looked around and then settled back into his seat, relieved that he was still around the group. A sadness washed over him when he came to the realization that his dreams were probably less terrifying than reality.


He sighed and turned around to them in the back. Evan was leaned against Aylaela's shoulder, on the edge of slumber.


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The sky had turned pink and the early morning air was crisp and cool. A single cloud floated above, a lonely cotton ball, against the sky.


In the distance, the large black hill just after Crawford had been reduced to the size of a Cheerio.


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Aylaela pursed her lips, unsure of how she could comfort the boy with any words. When she had left her home, driven by walkers, she had a backpack with a few of her treasured books and items, a Bible, and some food. That was long gone, just like Evan's bag. When all you had were a few small possessions to remember a whole life, you become so attached, only to have them ripped from your grasp painfully.


"Memories are what sustain them, not the things," Aylaela offers in a whisper of consolation, looking up to find Sam had turned toward the backseat. She smiles slightly, thankful that they could all make it out of the Hellhole that was Crawford.
 
He offered her a weak smile and sent a small prayer skyward. Lord, please don't let anyone take my bag, it's all I have left from my family and I'd really like it back. Thank you, amen.


"Thank you," he whispered to Aylaela, looked with a half open eye at Sam and finally succumbed to sleep. No one could touch him in the land of dreams.
 
Sam watched as Evan gave in to his fatigue. A smile tugged at his lips and for once allowed himself a moment of happiness.


Sam took off his hoodie, revealing a white V-neck underneath. The wind was not at all warm but he didn't mind. There were other things to worry about.


He turned around and handed it to Aylaela. "Put this around him." Sam faced forward again towards the seemingly never ending road.


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Aylaela took the outstretched hoodie, surprised once again by the selflessness these people showed. Maybe one day she would get used to it, but she hoped not.


The girl attempted to keep her shoulder stationary while draping the hoodie over Evan's frame, the action forcing a growl from her empty stomach. Throughout this whole fiasco, Aylaela hadn't eaten since before she arrived at Crawford.


"Thanks," Aylaela says with a quiet voice to Sam on Evan's behalf, and hers.


The warmth of the body beside her resurfaced a memory of home.


Light filtered into the small kitchen of Aylaela's home, her mother stirring a mixing bowl of dough with a mighty purpose. The girl sat at their table in the middle of the room, reading a invitation from her cousin to her baby shower.


"Soon enough you'll be married and having one of those yourself," her mother said, smiling over at her daughter with a slight Southern accent.


"Mom!" Aylaela squealed, pushing the invitation away from her, just like the idea of children.


"It's true, family is the most important thing my dear," said the woman, gesturing with her dough covered spoon to make her point.





Aylaela sighed, turning her head towards the window and closing her eyes. If this whole thing blew over like some were hoping, maybe a family was possible, but as the the girl fell into sleep, she vowed too never bring any innocent child into a world as horrible as this.
 
Eventually after crying for a bit Lia's eyes started getting heavier and heavier, then after a while her eyes closed and she laid her head on Matthews good arm, not meaning to. Her cheeks, nose and eyelids are red from crying.


In her dreams, she's laying in a field with her younger sister. Pointing to the shooting stars flying by and to which star was the brightest, "Athalia, why don't you just give up and come to me?" Her sisters voice was soft and innocent, "Dex and Logan are gone, if you lose anyone else, you'll just be too sad." Her sister spoke again. Lia thought about it. Then looked over at her younger sister who was smiling and glowing a little white. Just as Lia was about to say something, her sisters image started shifting, then a blood streak rolled down the side of her sisters eye from between her eyebrows. Her sister stopped glowing and her eyes turned a bright blue. Dead.


Lia was shaking in her sleep.


(yayyyyyyyyyy really long post :D are you proud of me? :3 )
 
"I miss my daughter." Matthew talked solemnly, as Lia had put her head on his arm. The one that still had a hand. "She could still be out there. Surviving. It's unlikely, but I'd like to find her one day. I don't know how I'd explain to her what this is." He held up his stump, and looked at it. The stump was just so strange. His hand was gone. Gone. Not there. It was hard to believe. It would be even harder to believe then him ever finding Cynthia again. The odds of her having survived out there were slim to none. Especially after having left her.


Matthew put his head up against the chair behind him, and looked at the ceiling.


"F****kkk."
 
Blood and bits of gore covered Ryker. He had gone back upstairs to grab his bag and encountered the man Jon had killed. It occurred to him that he'd met the man once before but that hadn't stopped him from sending his crowbar crashing into the mans skull. Ryker grabbed his bag and bow and rushed down stairs in time to see a jeep pull away from the hotel. Ryker cursed under his breath but kept moving. Crawford was in chaos, people shooting at the jeep as well as the dead which had appeared out of no where. Ryker slipped by easily enough and clamored over the fence. The area where Ryker landed was abandoned, any zombies who had been there had been attracted to the gun shots near the main gate. Ryker saw the jeep burst through the front gate and drive away. That group was strong and now that Crawford wasn't going to work they were his best chance. Ryker began jogging down the road. They had to stop eventually he thought to himself.
 
The jeep rolled carefully into a enclosed alleyway.


Not because of a lack of fuel, or because of vehicle damages, but because Jon felt it was appropriate, given the circumstances. The college student stepped out of the jeep, legs shaking as his foot hit the ground. He felt exhausted, but there was no time to be. The gas readout was about one away from going out, and he could see the typical structure of a gas station up ahead.


He looked back at the occupants of the truck. Lia, Ayleala and Evan were asleep, and the rest seems to be awake. "Okay, gents, there's a gas station up ahead and we're gonna need fuel for the journey." He counted off those who were awake, that left Sam, Matthew and himself.


Wait, where was Ryker.


Jon shook his head, later. Crawling onto the back and hauling the dufflebag of weapons out, he set it on the floor. Carefully unzipping it, he dragged a hunter rifle out and it's appropriate ammunition.


"Thing is, we don't know if it's safe or not, but at the same time, we need someone to watch over the sleepers here."


Jonathan Taylor blew out a breath. "What's it gonna be guys?"


(This would be where Lee has to make the big drastic decision, dun dun dun.)
 
(Hey Ryker should come in at this point on a motorcycle or a something, we could really use the extra man :3) despite time continuity issues.


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Ryker felt as though his lungs were going to explode. Thankfully the jeep pulled into an alleyway. Ryker approached the jeep aware he was soaked in blood. "Forgot somthing" Ryker asked trying to sound good natured but there was alittle bitterness there.
 
BEFORE THE JEEP STOPPED --> Kat was running from wherever she was. She didn't know where it was but she did run because she did.


AFTER THE JEEP STOPPED --> She found a gas station and hid there taking most of the food and tools. It was all she could do. She found glue and rope and got her 2 knives and put them together at the handle creating some sorted of double edged knife. Then she hid.
 
Matthew stood propped up against the jeep, thinking about Hon's proposal. He had let Lia fall asleep in the jeep, and came out. "I'm not sure we're ready to defend ourselves. We go and we search out these buildings, then we grab this jeep and drive out. But, I'm not sure if anybody is up for that. We already expended a lot of energy back there, and....look, how about we take shifts?" Matthew had told his view of the situation, but that was when he heard a familiar voice echo throughout the alleyway.


"Forgot something."


Matthew looked over to where the voice came from. Ryker. "Thank god. I'm glad somebody else is still alive." He looked at Ryker's shirt, realizing how much blood was splattered across it. "Are you ok?"
 
Sam, looked at Ryker, relieved but also ashamed they had forgot to bring him. His cheeks burned with embarrassment.


"Hey big guy." Sam said, trying to grin. He opened his door and approached Ryker, whose shirt was dirty with blood.


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The voice forced Jon around, rifle brought up to his eye, but it was Ryker. He blew out a breath, "Hah, sorry we left you back there man! Thought you were there the whole time!" He reached down and actually loaded the bolt-action hunting rifle with ammunition.


With Matthew questioning Ryker's physical health, Jon added to it. "Yeah, are you okay man," his voice dropped to a drastically more serious tone, "did you get bitten?"
 
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