Telltale's The Walking Dead Ep. 2: After [Inactive]

Aylaela looked to Matthew, confusion evident on her face. Looking down at the Pharmacy floor, Lia's body lay, blood showing the bullet holes in her head.


With what the man said the girl must've turned but.... "Lia wasn't bite. I'm positive. Her only wounds were the two bullet holes," the girl trails off, looking at Lia's body. "Well, the two bullet holes that she got when she was alive," Aylaela told Matthew. "You can even confirm it with that Nathan guy if need be," she suggests.


"But I'm positive she wasn't bite," the girl repeats, more for her own benefit. Had she not seen a bite on her back? There was enough blood that they could've missed it. Aylaela shook her head, realizing how tired she truly was.
 
Matthew didn't know what to think. He had to do something about this. His own thoughts that he had about this situation made him dumbfounded, but he shook it off to continue talking to Aylaela. "Aylaela, we need to get everyone ready for a meeting in the morning. Me and Cynthia are going to bed. Once everyone is up tomorrow, I'm going to start the meeting. Hope that sounds fine." With those words, Matthew and Cynthia headed upstairs so they could go to sleep by the injured.
 
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Collab post with @Deeox2 (Jon), credit for his excellent writing. Final editing by @Macaberz (Evan).


"I'll stay with you Ev, I owe you that much."


Rolling over to his side, Evan searched Jon’s eyes for a sign of hope, something to hold on to. "Thank you," he whispered. Even with his eyes closed, sleep refused to take him. When his eyes fluttered open minutes later, Jon was still at his side. "Do you believe in God?" Evan asked.


"God?"


Jon rubbed his chin. Evan probably believed, whilst he did not. This was something he felt he had to take very carefully, he didn't exactly know how Evan was raised.


"I..." he exhaled, taking his hand away from his face, "never really was one to do that kind of thing." Before Evan could input, he continued, "I suppose, I believe in the actions of people, and what they do is what shapes our paths."


Evan returned a blank stare. "I don't know anymore, and I don't even feel bad about it like I used to." Fidgeting, his brows knitted together above his nose. "Maybe he just can't help it," he poked a hole in his cushion with his index finger, "maybe he can't do anything about this."


Jon smiled, the kid had taken it well, better than he’d hoped. Yet, his fidgeting betrayed unease. Evan opened and closed his mouth a few times, then said, "Can I ask you a favor?"


He pulled up a chair and sat down. "As long as you don't ask me to go kiss anyone downstairs, then yeah. Whatdya need?"


He briefly reconsidered the exception, there were some people he might want to do that to.


A smile broke through, brief, but confident. "Suppose I get," he twiddled his thumbs, "suppose I get bit. Will you shoot me?" His cheeks reddened, it wasn't an everyday question. Lowering his voice he continued, "And will you burn my body? I don't want to rot here."


Jon adjusted his pose and cocked his head from side to side. It was evident he didn't like the question as a whole, not wanting in the slightest for Evan to be bitten, let alone die.


"If you ask me, to shoot you. I will do it. And if you ask me to...take care of the rest. I will do it. There are very, very few reasons I would take anything I am saying back."


"Thank you," Evan whispered. Once more he tried to close his eyes and sail among the clouds, but too many questions lingered in his mind. Without Jon even asking him to, Evan recalled a memory:


"My dad used to have these good luck boots. They didn't really work, but he believed in them. He used to travel a lot, my dad, he explored other countries before he became a farmer and married my mom. 'They've seen every corner of the earth' he always said, I never believed him, still don't.” Smiling, he looked up at Jon. “A walker bit my shoe today, but he couldn't get through the leather. I guess the good luck is only starting to work now." He chuckled, his father was likely dead, but the memories were not. "What about you?"


Evan's story brought Jon back to a good mood, an ability that Evan seemed to solely possess. Of course though, Jon understood the undertones, the obvious craving for the old world, family, and love.


What did he even do before hell descended on earth? He was always focused on the new world, only reminiscing in short bursts that left his mind a little more broken each time.


The University, his mind set himself back to those moments that the walkers assaulted his place of learning and before that, his history professor was arrested for killing a senator.


"I was a student. University of Georgia, majoring in history. Its kind of stupid now, what would that do good for now? My Mom always pushed me though saying, stuff like," he broke into the voice of a stereotypical grandmother, obviously different than his actual mother. "Jon, I paid good money for University, you aren't going to become a good-for-nothing burger flipper on my watch!"


Evan's belly shook at Jon's imitation of his grandmother, he imagined her as the rock-chair knitting type, sitting on the porch until late in the afternoon. "Burger flipper," he repeated. "I guess she didn't imagine you to become a zombie killer either. I think she'd be proud of you though, for surviving, for taking care of others."


He smiled, the memory was good. "Yeah, she was nice. How she put up with all that happened, I'll never know. Maybe we'll run into her someday, then you could meet her."


He knew they never would, but kept it to himself. "So what’s with Neri?"


At once, his cheeks reddened. He slid his hand through his hair then wolf-whistled. “She's got everything." He flicked his eyes at Jon before fixating on the ceiling again. "Look, I only saw her once, and that was from behind, and from a distance." He grinned sheepishly as he pictured her in his mind. “Why? You got an eye on her?"


Jon let himself give a mouth covered snigger, "That sounds incredibly creepy, but no, I have my eyes on another." He hardly knew Neri, in fact, that's what caused him to take a shot at her with his rifle back in Crawford.


“Creepy? Really?” Evan considered Jon’s words and frowned.


If Jon was completely serious, love complicated things. He could understand when a parent loved their child, like Matthew and his daughter, but romantic love caused even greater bias.


What if someone had to choose between their lover and another, the choice the person would make was obvious. Of course, then again, Cloe was pretty cute.


Jon's gaze drew itself to the boardless window, the one he had crawled out of. The sun had long passed the horizon. "Perhaps I should let you nod off, we all need our sleep."


Evan blinked lazily at Jon, grabbed his hand, gave it a little squeeze and closed his eyes. “Will you stay another minute?” he whispered.


Jon grimaced, "I wish I could buddy, but there's still a lot to do today,and I haven't got enough time to do it today." He then gave Evan a drawn out hug before taking a step to the stairs. "Goodnight bud."


With that he left to see what was going on downstairs and Evan happily fell asleep.
 
*OOC: Im back! You guys certainly make a good read for long train rides to work :) anyway because I missed the action again, I will just skip and not bore you guys with a epically long post xD plus typing on a phone is hard! :P *


Cloe crumpled into a heap of red hair and groans. Her back pressed against one of the cold white walls of the pharmacy. She was covered, once again, despite her best efforts, in zombie gore and fire extinguisher foam. Usually, the stuff was fine by it's self, but when combined with the entrails of a zombie, the foam resembled Herbal Essences from hell.


But that was for the ,not so distant, future Cloe to worry about. For now, all the girl wanted was to rest and ignore the fact that she had just killed dozen of people. Even if they were zombies.


Inside the pharmacy, the shop lay in ruins. Blood spatters made for an interesting wall pattern however, while the rest of the group slugged about checking on each other and reaffirming bonds. It was actually kind of sweet watching each reunion play out. If you ignored the dead body carpet of course, but it was close enough to a soppy rom-com for Cloe to sate her addiction to the genre.


It was only when Matty however began to question who brought back an infected girl that realisation hit Cloe in the stomach with a sharp jab.


The red headed girl had seen Evan removing a dead body from the building but she had simply put that down to trying to tidy up. She had never dared to think it actually because he was laying a friend to rest.


Lia. Cloe had never really spoken to the lass but they had been about the same age and despite the random outbursts of rage, Cloe could have seen them becoming friends.


Slowly, Cloe closed her eyes in a mixture of guilt, respect for the dead and simple exhaustion as she rolled her head back, pointing her nose towards the ceiling and causing the wild, damp heap of hair to fall back from her face.


"Let that be the last of 'em." The sentence was barely a whisper, breathed over her lips in a sigh but Cloe prayed, to a god she didn't even believe in, that each word would be heard.
 
Jeff was holding Cynthia's hand, watching over her as Matt requested Suddenly an explosion outside shook Jeff and Cynthia momentarily. A flurry of things were happening around them and it took Jeff a while to soak things in. The only familiar person in this group was now Matt.


A few moments later, Cynthia ran off, letting go of Jeff's hand. "Hey!" he ran after her. Seeing what happened in the first floor shot some images in Jeff's mind that he probably glossed over, being half-conscious. He remembered to a point that they were attacked by a female walker inside. Thinking harder on it, it looked like someone he knew. It then hit him. It was Lia, a person he also knew. He froze for a second before continuing his pursuit of Cynthia outside the pharmacy.


He saw Matt and a few others standing outside and couldn't help but overhear what they were talking about. It appears they didn't know. Jeff saw it happened before. After Crawford, an old man took him in. For a while they were fine, until the old man died of a heart attack. Jeff was in the middle of tending to the old man before it reanimated and attacked him. It was then that Jeff believed that if you die, you become one of them.


Seeing that Cynthia was fine, Jeff just allowed things to unfold. He looked around at the pile of dead bodies. The smell of their rotting and burning flesh slowly pierced him. He should have been immune to it by now. Jeff contemplated how he was useless this time around and if it hadn't been for this people, he would've died at the end. For someone like Jeff, he couldn't accept that. The only person he felt comfortable around now was reduced to just Matt. Though this Braeden fellow was of good opinion for Jeff. Everyone was new to him. He looked at Aylaela and Braeden for a while before talking. "Let's get inside guys. I'll keep watch while you guys get a rest."


he went on ahead of the pair and sat near the entrance. It was getting dark.


OOC: what happened to Neri. o_o


OOC2/edit: Timezones screwed me over. I fell asleep and when I woke up, there was a shitload of posts I haven't read. hahaha
 
After Nathan cleared out the rest of the surviving walkers near the pharmacy that could have been a threat, he walks inside a house and, after making sure its clear, he lays down on a bed and succumbs to the exhaustion. He dreamed of his family, that was now dead. Especially about his big brother and his little sister. Then he dreamed about his squad. About the missions that went well at first, but then, he dreamed about Atlanta and how it had turned into such a inferno. He remembered how each in every one of his squad members died in his arms and how he was the only one to escape. He wakes up again only after a couple of hours and walks over to the pharmacy, but doesn't walk in because they didn't seem to trust him that much. He notices the one they identified as the SWAT officer sitting outside the entrance and he sits next to him. "So you're the SWAT agent?" he asks
 
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He noticed this one guy in the military uniform strutting in and out of the pharmacy but didn't pay much mind to it since he was living. He was comfortably keeping watch at the entrance until this guy approached him.


"So, you're a SWAT agent?"





Jeff had the urge to answer him sarcastically since it was obvious from what he was wearing but he kept it to himself. He took a good look at the guy and wondered how on Earth did this guy survive that long in that outfit. It didn't matter much now. He was alive. There was also no reason not to answer him. Idle chat was a good way to pass time in the apocalypse and it was a good chance to know the people he was gonna be with for the foreseeable future.


"Yeah, I was based in Atlanta when all this stuff went down." he said. "How about you? You look military. And Jesus Christ, man, take that mask off. It's night time. Wouldn't it be hard to breathe or see in that thing at this time?" he let out before chuckling a little.
 
Nathan lets out a sigh. "Atlanta? Yeah. I was posted there too together with the two squads of Spec Ops. That operation really did go to shit. Lost my squad there to the herd of walkers." he says
 
"No kidding? You were in that hellhole too?" Jeff's jaw dropped and felt a little comfort knowing there was someone who shared an experience with him. "So you were in one of those helicopters that came to back us up..." he thought about how he saw a lot of friends he was serving with die that day. The sound of gunfire, car alarms blazing, the panic and frenzy of people running all over the place, the buzz of the radio that gave him commands, and the screams of people who were being eaten. It was something that Jeff had to live with.


After some thought, Jeff forgot that he hasn't introduced himself. "Shit, sorry about my manners. The name's Webb, Jeffrey Webb. Atlanta Police Department." he extended his hand out for a handshake.
 
(OOC: yeah I where's Neri?! I just noticed)


Sam left the pharmacy alone and walked. To where he didn't know. All he did he walk and walk where his feet could take him. When he finally stopped, he found himself at the edge of the forest, before a thick darkness of the trees.


Sam tried to suppress it. His bottle of emotions had been capped, corked by cowardice, and there in that instant it exploded. He fell to his knees before the dark forest and cried. Crickets began singing their summer songs, bugs and their ballads, the sad choruses of creatures.


Why did it have to be like this? Sam had so many questions, for who, he didn't know anymore.


"Why is this world so terrible?" He spoke to the forest as it offered back a gloomy stare.


"Why did you make your world like this? What did we do?!" Sam realized he was talking to God. A blaze of anger bolted into his heart and he stood up and he let out a painful scream.


"How can you claim to love us, when you've let us live in this hell?! When you've taken everybody that I love away from me? From everyone else?! Why can't we just have peace? The peace you promised us in the begininng?" Sam was sobbing now. His hands dropped heavily to the ground and he clenched dirt, the black soil squeezing out from the spaces between his fingers.


"WHYYYY?!" He repeatedly beat the ground, eyes red, until his fists became numb. And then he beat the ground some more.


Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks until the saltiness of his weeping seeped into the earth.


"Where are you now.." Sam whispered. He looked up back at the forest, it's gargantuan mouth of nothingness threatening to swallow him. He got up, brushed his clothes and headed back. When he found his way again, the night was no longer dark and a deep purple began to appear above, the bruise of early morning.


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Nathan accepted the handshake, took off the gas mask and said "The names Carson, Nathan Carson. Sergeant of the Special Forces Brigade 2. Its good to meet somebody that understands what happened there. It was awful. I lost my whole squad except for two to the walkers. They overran our position right when we landed. I managed to escape but the rest died, except for two of them. We got separated and I haven't seen them since. Now that you mention it, I saw you guys down on the ground. Things became hell really fast and really hard."
 
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As the night sky hung over, Daisy got up, adjusting the flower crown, and walked back to the Pharmacy. She saw everybody inside, and inhaled slowly, and entered quietly, nodding at Nathan sitting outside with another person, before slipping in and standing near the corner.


Her eyes looked over every solitary person that stood there in the Pharmacy, a group that was not torn apart by a herd, it only bringing them together. She wondered how long they had been together. They all word together with such accuracy, and trust, she envied it almost. Daisy saw a father go to his kids, and smiled slightly and softly, a bit surprised that family was still together in all this mayhem and madness. She figured that must be what she admired about them so much, that no matter what, they all had friends, some had love, and even family emerged.


Daisy heard a painfully ear-piercing scream from upstairs that she could only recognize as Sam. She waited to see if anyone else would go up there instead of her rushing up there only to be embarrassed. She leaned against the wall, as silence hung in the air.
 
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Sam neared the entrance, everybody inside was either sleeping or close to it. The bell didnt jingle as he closed the door behind him. He saw Daisy in the corner, he called out to her, not loud that he would wakeup the others but loud enough so she'd hear.


"Daisy was it? You should get some rest. If not, I'm gonna have to fall asleep for you." He joked. He went into his bag and brought his aluminum water bottle. He lifted it up and the three remaining drops trickled down his throat.
 
Daisy looked over at Sam as he called out to her. Daisy shrugged. "Not tired. You should get some rest though." She smiled softly and nodded, blinking profusely at the ground. She crossed her arms over her chest, swallowing what little moisture was left in her dry mouth.


She didn't want to sleep anymore, she just found herself not being tired. She didn't do as much as the others did, therefore they deserved sleep more than her. If they needed someone to keep watch, she could do that. But sleep, she couldn't.
 
"I can't fucking sleep."


"Swear."


".....Fine, I'll stop as long as you do."


"Maybe."


"You're a real piece of work, Y'now that?"


"Yeah, pretty much."


Matthew laid on the bed, him and his daughter back to back. Cynthia seemed to be quite sleepy, and was drifting off at every word she spoke. Matthew eventually, quietly stood up and headed on downstairs to check on everybody. Slightly nodding to the residents of the pharmacy, he studied them.


He had no idea who they were. Sure, he protected them, but who could really call someone a leader if they don't know who they're leading? Matthew gritted his teeth, and opened the door to the pharmacy. All the dead bodies was almost admirable. If it wasn't for the stench. Now where was his favorite weapon?


He stepped over the rotting flesh, the sticky blood and the wild tufts of hair and brain that littered the area. Matthew had gotten used to it. He never thought that he'd get used to the smell of a decaying body. Scanning the area, he noticed a slight shimmer in the darkness of the bodies. His machete. Kneeling down, he grabbed it with one hand, and out his foot on the walker, then pulled. It came out with a satisfying squish, and Matthew stood up once more.


He stuffed it in it's holster on his back, and was going to head back when something caught his eye. A bloodied, baseball cap. It was red, not just because if the blood, but red appeared to be it's color before the world went to shit. Matthew grabbed it up off of the vile creature's head, and stuffed it on top of his. He smiled, at his addition of a new hat, since he lost his old one at Crawford.


Back inside, he looked for something to do while he waited for morning to come. He couldn't really tell everyone while they were sleeping, so he had figured he'd just wait. Maybe Cloe would want to talk. Matthew went over and tried to start a conversation


"So, rough day, huh?"
 
Sam turned the bottle upright again and screwed its lid back on. He looked at the bottle, an intricate emerald vine had been carved against a lighter green and he examined each portion, each twist and turn, every leaf and edge.


"I'd love that. To go to sleep. After today, all my body would more than happily do is collapse on one of the beds over there.." Sam sighed. He crossed his legs and leaned against the counter. Sam considered for a moment before he decided to tell her,


"I have nightmares. I guess at this point, I can't tell which is worse, living or sleeping. Don't stay up too late." He offered her a smile and then went towards the back.


Sam fell onto a bed, Cynthia sound asleep across the room.


He closed his eyes and lived.


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Daisy wondered why he told her that, but as he fell asleep, she nodded, and whispered, "I have nightmares too." She walked outside quietly, sitting on the sidewalk, leaning up against the store. she crossed her arms over her knees, and lay her chin on her knee, looking up at the stars. Being a solitary person, Daisy didn't go in and talk to people. She instead decided she could meet people later, but for now would just sit here. She remembered the crown of daisies on her head and smiled, waiting for the morning to arrive.


She sniffled quietly, mumbling, "Star light, Star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, wish I might, have my wish come true tonight." Daisy stared at a star that poked out to her, and wished silently, "I wish that we'll all get through the night safely." She sighed, ignoring the horrid stench of rotting undead flesh. After being alive and dealing with it for so long, you almost forget what clean air smells like. You can't go anywhere anymore without smelling death, or desolation.
 
It was morning. Just like that, the sun had simply popped up and risen in the sky. Matthew had fallen asleep slumped up on the wall, and drearily awakened. It was time for the meeting. He stood up with all the strength he had, and looked around the room. There were only a few people still left inside the downstairs part of the pharmacy, a few others were upstairs, and a couple were outside. "Meeting. Now." He didn't yell it out, but Matthew said it firmly enough that the others could here from upstairs. If they were awake, at least. He turned to the window, and looked at ones outside while mouthing the words meeting. He watched as everyone walked in, some angry, some tired, and others indifferent.


Matthew looked around at the people on the pharmacy. "Meeting. Now. We need everybody to regroup, and then we need to figure out our plan of action. We're all having a talk. Right now." Matthew saw the humble group of survivors crowd around the pharmacy, looking with tired and weary eyes towards the man with but one hand.


"Now, I understand that you all are tired. I am too. But, I feel like there are some things that need to be addressed." Matthew rubbed his face in distraught, looking on towards the faces in the crowd.


"I shot Lia. Not the first time, but the second time. Listen, if what Aylaela is saying is true, Lia wasn't bitten. But, even though she wasn't, she still....."


"Came back."


"Lia, attacked Cynthia, and I ran in and shot her. Now, what I want to know is how the hell she came back to life. My take?"


"I think that we're all infected. All of us, every single last one of us has that monster inside of us. Hiding away. Sometimes it shows out in us, but eventually it fully takes over. The bites don't infect you. They just kill you. No matter how you die, you will come back. I will wait, for you all to answer, and then I will continue."


Matthew stood there, looking at the puzzled and distraught faces. Some looked at him as if he were crazy. Others with respect. A few looked like they were trying to figure it out, like they couldn't understand what was happening. This news, that even he couldn't believe himself. But, there was no other logical explanation for it.


None at all.
 
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Daisy had fallen asleep outside. Not the safest choice, but oh well. She woke up, and was stretching when she saw Matthew gesture her inside. She followed the others inside and stood near the back as he began to talk.


His voice was firm and serious, and Daisy bit her lip tentatively, wondering what he wanted to talk about it. As he continued on, talking about Lia, Daisy only became more and more confused. When he said he thought they were all infected, Daisy gasped quietly and covered her mouth to keep from sobbing. She was normally solemn when it came to these things, but to think that..that monster was inside her ripped her apart.


He stared at all of them, and Daisy just couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe it because she knew it was true. She closed her eyes as a couple tears sprawled down her cheeks. She cried silently, not out of sadness, but out of fear, and anger. She didn't want the beast that ripped her father apart and took him away from her in her. She didn't want to ever kill anybody. She only prayed that if she were to become one, that they would kill her immediately, before she could turn, so then she could die a human, peacefully and painfully, because she'd rather them all last see her as a young teenage human girl, rather than a raging beast that had no control over itself anymore. Inhaling sharply, Daisy wiped her tears away furiously and exhaled, her slim figure shaking slightly.
 
Jeff was still keeping watch near the doors when he heard Matt call for the group. He went inside.


He took a good look at the people who were there. "Is this the whole group?" he thought to himself. It was a lot different then who they were with a couple of weeks earlier. He had a lot of questions about what happened to the others in that group. He also needed to thank Matt and Braeden for taking him in again. Jeff believed that that was for another conversation though. He focused on the matter at hand.


"It's true." Jeff affirmed what Matt was saying. "I saw it happen before. But it only shows up when we die." he added. He looked at the others and expected them to be confused. "I'm Jeff, by the way." he said with a stern expression.
 
Their voices woke him. He happily woke up, it was another day, they were still alive, the walkers had been dealt with. Maybe today they could begin what they'd tried to start the day before. Peace. He'd fallen asleep in his clothes and made a mental note to scavenge some fresh ones and a pair of pyjamas somewhere. His stomach growled as he sauntered downstairs, Matthew was calling for a meeting.


Groggy and with half-open eyes, Evan listened to Matthew. Any other moment, the news would've shocked him, but sleep had numbed his senses, seconds passed before he understood what the man was saying. "Bullshit," he coughed, "it's a lie. We're not sick like them," he shook his head vigorously. "If it's true," he breathed deeply, "then what's the point in even staying alive?"


More than once he'd been struck by the irony of life, the big joke, this purposeless struggle. Yet never before had it overwhelmed him so, there'd always been something or someone to live for. Knowledge, nature, people, family, those were no longer valid reasons, not if they were born sick like Matthew claimed. He rubbed his eye, his body was still warm from sleep, his clothes felt uncomfortable to his skin. Daisy didn't take the news very well.
 
Kenny opened his eyes and rubbed them. The sunlight shone through the cracks in the door. Kenny rummaged around in the trunk and his hand stopped as it ran over glass. He pulled it up to the trunk and realized it was a bottle of brandy. Kenny put the bottle down and continued to rummage around in the trunk until his hand ran over something cold. He fumbled around with the object until he felt something like a handle. He pulled the object over to the light and saw that it was a large case. He opened it and was amazed with what he saw. A shotgun and a nine millimeter handgun he opened the trunk and got out. When he got out he realized what type of car this was. "A police car." Kenny said. He opened the front door and looked around he leant over to the passenger side and slipped, knocking into the dash board. Suddenly he heard the sirens go off. He didn't know what to do so he ran to the pharmacy. "Help!" He yelled to all the people gathered around.
 
"Everyone, calm down!" Jeff said after hearing the others starting to panic and fret. He wanted to clearly tell these people what he had already deduced in his time away from Matt after Crawford.


"Listen kid, it's not a lie. We... are... all... infected." he said slowly with emphasis. "A man took me in more than a week ago. He died after having a heart attack." he maintained eye contact with everyone who was around while talking. "He died, and then grabbed me... and almost killed me. I know this is a bit hard to take in, but those are the cards we were dealt. What we do from here on is what matters."


Jeff understood the hopelessness the kid was feeling. At one point, he felt it too. The feeling that anything you do won't matter or change the end result. But Jeff didn't want to give up.


"There has to be something out there, guys. We just have to find it." he said. It could sound as just giving false hope but Jeff believed. "It can be a place where we can start all over again, where these things can't reach us." His tone was starting to grow a little louder. He tried to be as positive about this as he could. "We don't know, there might be some place out there where someone is doing something to fix this. We just have to get there."
 
When Matthew told Aylaela they would be having a meeting in the morning, the girl blanched. She suspected the reason but roughly pushed the thought away. For now, her main mission was to clean the gore from her skin and sleep. Braeden went upstairs to inspect the upper rooms while she quickly went into the bathroom.


To avoid interruption, the girl hooked her tire iron on the door handle, bringing a grin to her face before it faded at the sight of herself in the mirror. Aylaela's skin could hardly be seen beneath the layers of crusted black blood and pieces of dead that clung to her. Quickly she discarded the leather jacket on a sink, removing the tanktop that had been clinging to her skin. Slowly the girl cleaned her clothing and body, watching as the sink ran red to pink to clear.


The cleansing of her body gave the girl a sense of peace that had long since abandoned her. After donning her clothing once more and redoing her braid, Aylaela felt almost whole. "All the time, God is good. And God is good, all the time," the girl whispered to her reflection, a mantra her father had repeated vigorously in his life time.


Soon she realized how much her limbs dragged, begging for a reprieve. Sighing, the girl took her iron off then handle and trudged upstairs, finding her brother sound asleep on the floor next to the last open bed. Smiling, she picks her way over his bulky body and onto the bed, Finally Aylaela could sleep on the first bed in at least a month, smiling as she fell into the sweet silence of sleep.


-----


Braeden woke up as the other people in their room began to stir. He looked behind him at Aylaela, shaking her awake. She was surprisingly clean, but he'd pester her later on the subject.


"Let's follow the herd," he muttered to his sister as she slowly stood up, sleep clinging to her shoulders.


Matthew had called a meeting, all the other members of the small group gathered around. When he relayed the news, everyone seemed shocked, disbelieving, but he only observed Aylaela, who nodded, as if that statement had confirmed her suspicions.


The man from yesterday, Jeff, began to attempt to soothe the group, but Braeden only shook his head slowly. He had thought this was true when he had been with the bandits, a few reanimations happened there as well.


But the man didn't quite care, other than finding safety for his sister, "What about shelter? We sure as Hell can't stay in this Pharmacy." Braeden says, more so speaking about Aylaela and himself than anyone else. If the others wanted to mope about being infected, they could go ahead and do it, but he had an agenda of his own.
 
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