CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 3)
Eight Months Later
Josephine Harper—Fairweather Hotel Courtyard—Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
She pushed the glass d… moreoor open and stepped onto the cement pathway of the garden. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped her and suddenly the dark clouds overhead seemed less of a bad omen and more of a backdrop to the pretty plants in the courtyard. Josephine walked down the path with her hand trailing over a few leaves, quietly edging forward.
“Come to admire the flowers?” echoed a man’s voice. She turned to face the speaker and couldn’t help but reach for her holster. She let her hand hover over it as she looked at him. He was an older man in his sixties or seventies with completely white hair tied up in a ponytail. He chuckled when he noticed her hand above the pistol. “Well, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The soft, but friendly tone and laugh helped to ease the tension a little.
Josephine cracked an uneasy smile and gave a… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 3)
Eight Months Later
Josephine Harper—Fairweather Hotel Courtyard—Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
She pushed the glass d… moreoor open and stepped onto the cement pathway of the garden. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped her and suddenly the dark clouds overhead seemed less of a bad omen and more of a backdrop to the pretty plants in the courtyard. Josephine walked down the path with her hand trailing over a few leaves, quietly edging forward.
“Come to admire the flowers?” echoed a man’s voice. She turned to face the speaker and couldn’t help but reach for her holster. She let her hand hover over it as she looked at him. He was an older man in his sixties or seventies with completely white hair tied up in a ponytail. He chuckled when he noticed her hand above the pistol. “Well, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The soft, but friendly tone and laugh helped to ease the tension a little.
Josephine cracked an uneasy smile and gave a… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 3)
Eight Months Later
Josephine Harper—Fairweather Hotel Courtyard—Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
She pushed the glass d… moreoor open and stepped onto the cement pathway of the garden. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped her and suddenly the dark clouds overhead seemed less of a bad omen and more of a backdrop to the pretty plants in the courtyard. Josephine walked down the path with her hand trailing over a few leaves, quietly edging forward.
“Come to admire the flowers?” echoed a man’s voice. She turned to face the speaker and couldn’t help but reach for her holster. She let her hand hover over it as she looked at him. He was an older man in his sixties or seventies with completely white hair tied up in a ponytail. He chuckled when he noticed her hand above the pistol. “Well, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The soft, but friendly tone and laugh helped to ease the tension a little.
Josephine cracked an uneasy smile and gave a… [view original content]
Jerry seems to be in a lot better condition than I have expected and that's awesome! Of course, nightmares and stuff have been almost guaranteed, but I am positively amazed at the way he has healed. Anyway, Calvin is his doctor and after what he has been through, he should be completely honest about any problems bothering him.
Also, Josie met an interesting person. I'm not too sure what to make of Jefferson, but for now I kinda like him, he seemed to be honest enough with his advice. Hopefully this kid who apparently peeped on her really just wanted to see her half-naked. As much as that's not okay, it would be at least a lot better than the kid being some sort of psychopathic stalker, because that's the last thing Josie needs at the moment. But a preteen peeping tom is something she can undoubtly deal with. From what Jefferson revealed, I guess she is quite important in this new community, being part of some sort of council, which I assume is responsible for leading the community. So far, I have assumed that Jake would be the communities sole leader, but a council is definitely a better idea and I like the though of Josie being part of it. I wonder who else is part of this council. And I also wonder now who big the community is, if she has never even spoken to Jefferson before.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 3)
Eight Months Later
Josephine Harper—Fairweather Hotel Courtyard—Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
She pushed the glass d… moreoor open and stepped onto the cement pathway of the garden. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped her and suddenly the dark clouds overhead seemed less of a bad omen and more of a backdrop to the pretty plants in the courtyard. Josephine walked down the path with her hand trailing over a few leaves, quietly edging forward.
“Come to admire the flowers?” echoed a man’s voice. She turned to face the speaker and couldn’t help but reach for her holster. She let her hand hover over it as she looked at him. He was an older man in his sixties or seventies with completely white hair tied up in a ponytail. He chuckled when he noticed her hand above the pistol. “Well, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The soft, but friendly tone and laugh helped to ease the tension a little.
Josephine cracked an uneasy smile and gave a… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 3)
Eight Months Later
Josephine Harper—Fairweather Hotel Courtyard—Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
She pushed the glass d… moreoor open and stepped onto the cement pathway of the garden. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped her and suddenly the dark clouds overhead seemed less of a bad omen and more of a backdrop to the pretty plants in the courtyard. Josephine walked down the path with her hand trailing over a few leaves, quietly edging forward.
“Come to admire the flowers?” echoed a man’s voice. She turned to face the speaker and couldn’t help but reach for her holster. She let her hand hover over it as she looked at him. He was an older man in his sixties or seventies with completely white hair tied up in a ponytail. He chuckled when he noticed her hand above the pistol. “Well, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The soft, but friendly tone and laugh helped to ease the tension a little.
Josephine cracked an uneasy smile and gave a… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 3)
Eight Months Later
Josephine Harper—Fairweather Hotel Courtyard—Nuevo Laredo, Mexico
She pushed the glass d… moreoor open and stepped onto the cement pathway of the garden. A peaceful atmosphere enveloped her and suddenly the dark clouds overhead seemed less of a bad omen and more of a backdrop to the pretty plants in the courtyard. Josephine walked down the path with her hand trailing over a few leaves, quietly edging forward.
“Come to admire the flowers?” echoed a man’s voice. She turned to face the speaker and couldn’t help but reach for her holster. She let her hand hover over it as she looked at him. He was an older man in his sixties or seventies with completely white hair tied up in a ponytail. He chuckled when he noticed her hand above the pistol. “Well, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The soft, but friendly tone and laugh helped to ease the tension a little.
Josephine cracked an uneasy smile and gave a… [view original content]
Sorry for the inactivity! I'm going to try to get this story back on track, and although I recently gave the long-neglected Silicon a few parts, I've mostly been procrastinating. Hopefully I can get a new part out for this soon, but I'm not sure how soon it will be. Thank you for your already exceptional patience!
Voting is closed
(!) Jerry will tell Calvin about the nightmares
Sorry for the inactivity! I'm going to try to get this story back on … moretrack, and although I recently gave the long-neglected Silicon a few parts, I've mostly been procrastinating. Hopefully I can get a new part out for this soon, but I'm not sure how soon it will be. Thank you for your already exceptional patience!
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the doctor grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getting in our home. It was all my fault.” Jerry’s expression grew distant, and he repeated, “My fault.”
“That’s when the nightmares started?” Calvin said while he leaned closer. “How long have you’ve been living with this-- this guilt?”
“Since the beginning, when I put a bullet into my first dead one,” he said somberly. “Since I failed to act, to help; since I hurt Josie while I was in denial; since I got that boy, Santiago, killed…” He stopped abruptly and licked his lips, he went on, his voice cracking: “Since I got Anthony killed.” He paused and added, to better Calvin’s understanding, “He was Josephine’s brother.”
“Jesus,” Calvin mumbled as he ran a hand through his graying hair, allowing his shocked, wide-eyed gaze to fall to the lobby floor for a moment. “Jerry, I--” Calvin bit his lip, causing it to turn white. “Josephine, have you talked to her about this? About your guilt?”
“I haven’t,” he quietly answered.
Calvin frowned, giving him an urgent look. “You really should.”
“It’s not just her I should talk to,” Jerry said reluctantly. “Santiago - Stan, we called him - his younger brother is Dan. I got his brother killed. No more than twelve years old, he was. And I got him killed. I have nightmares about him the most.”
“You can make up for it, you can right your wrongs,” Calvin assured. ”And you already have. You’ve been protecting them, from all I’ve heard, for a very long time.”
Jerry looked Calvin in the eye with a cold, dead-set state. “I killed two brothers and have done so much more. I haven’t begun to repay them for what I did. And even then, I’m going to hell.” He eyed the glass door of the hotel, focusing on the gray skies and decayed landscape behind it. “Fuck,” he added, “maybe I’m already there.”
“Jerry, I have someone in the infirmary that I need to take care of. An appointment, if you will.” Calvin grimaced painfully. “But I can’t leave you like this. We concluded you were independent, I know, but I’m going to see if I can get someone to stay with you for the time being.”
He forced a bitter smile. “I have all the company I need.”
“Nonsense,” Calvin shot back while he clapped Jerry on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll drop you off at Atlanta’s place discreetly—are you okay with that?”
He didn’t answer right away. Jerry had looked off over Calvin’s shoulder at the glass door again. Calvin turned to follow his eye of slight, looking at a walker as it shambled closer to the window. Dried blood and rotting, pungent flesh covered its mouth and clothes.
“Jerry?” Calvin murmured to catch his attention.
“Huh?” he mumbled, looking back at him and blinking suddenly. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Then should I take care of it, or would you?” Calvin asked, now standing from his seat with his case in hand, reaching in his pocket to draw a clean knife.
Jerry stood as well and straightened his shirt. “I need to do something in my room, so if you don’t mind…” he glanced at the walking corpse and grimaced, “I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, Calvin watched Jerry retreat up a stairwell before he reluctantly approached the lobby entrance with a grim determination in his walk.
Upstairs, Jerry pushed open the room he lived in and looked around for Stephen. From the hallway, the man stepped into the room behind him and the two looked at each other. “I was looking for you,” he mumbled to Stephen. “Calvin and I are going out for a while. I’m not sure when we’ll be back.”
“Hmph,” Stephen huffed while he stepped past Jerry and into the room, arms crossed as he surveyed it. “Well, alright. But aren’t you forgetting something?”
Stephen inclined his head towards the nightstand drawer. “You’re right,” Jerry said. He walked towards the nightstand and pulled it open, retrieving a 9-millimeter pistol that he looked at in his hand for a second. “Full magazine,” he murmured, “10 bullets.”
He tucked it into a leather holster strapped to his belt and checked under the fold of his shirt for the knife on his opposite side. Stopping at the mirror, he studied his appearance once more; scoffing at the spot of pale flesh on his temple, he brushed his hair to cover it.
“Why do you want to hide your battle scars?” Stephen questioned from outside the bathroom.
“I don’t know,” he replied in a low whisper. “They’re not mine.” He turned to Stephen and walked past him to grab a black jacket with a fake, white-fur interior lining. “I’ll see you later,” Jerry said on his way out.
“I’ll be here, then,” Stephen replied glumly.
As Jerry reached the lobby, he saw Calvin standing over a toppled corpse with a bloodied knife. He looked disappointed and his eyes carried a sadness. Jerry opened the first door and stepped into the entrance, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head as he passed through the threshold of the final glass door. Greeting Calvin with the foggy vapor his breath produced in the cold air, they walked side by side until reaching the vehicle. Once they entered, Jerry rested his arm on the door and sat his head in his hand, watching through the side mirror as the hotel retreated.
There was a glowing silhouette of a young boy standing on the wall. It turned to Jerry, and when it opened its mouth to speak, bees flowed freely from it and swarmed into a hollowing black cloud that spiraled closer to Jerry at a daunting speed. Words finally left the boy’s lips: “Why did you let me die? Why didn’t you tell Daniel what happened?”
Jerry’s eyes fluttered open slowly, and with no surprise in his expression. Instead, he looked unsettled. He regained his sense of direction and looked at the place the doctor and him were currently at. It was a small, alley road between rows of houses that let them get right up close to the wall of the safe-zone.
They drove by a tall wooden privacy fence and stopped in front of it. It had been retrofitted, like the rest of the outer wall, with sheets of scrap metal for reinforcement that hid most of the wood from view. Secretly, underneath a loose panel, one piece of metal pivoted upon a single axle (AKA, a big screw) that allowed discreet entry to the backyard with little chance of a walker getting through, since it required leverage that a rotting corpse cannot replicate.
Each day a glorified wall-checker would do a patrol on a bicycle. They usually had significant practice with a long blade, typically a machete, which they used to dispatch very small groups of the dead. Their duty was to find weak points in the walls and places the dead were gathering. Although the patrols are instructed to leave larger groups of walkers alone, to report their last seen location to higher-ups so an armed guard could be assigned to take them out. Since the safe-zone is separated in two by the Rio Grande, each side has their own patrol. In the event the sides are cut off from each other, the council decided that having both sides mirrored would be a good fail-safe, that way they could operate independently if need be.
Climbing from the car, Jerry received a halfhearted smile and wave from Calvin before he drove off. He did not reply; he just continued towards the panel and awkwardly rotated it upwards, then he unlatched a small wooden gate behind it. Allowing the panel to fall behind him, Jerry passed through the gate and heard a small click as it closed.
The backyard was kept clean and trimmed, likely as a hobby. Flowers dotted it and there were a few tomato plants tucked away in one corner of the rectangular yard. It would have looked pleasant, if not for the depressing grayness that accompanied the atmosphere. Even so, it was calm, and Jerry appreciated calmness.
Onward to the porch, Jerry stepped up dark-chocolate stairs to the raised deck of the same color. A glass sliding door stood in his way. The dull light made it easy to see through the door. Jerry peered through to look inside and was greeted by seeing Atlanta and Ashley passionately kissing on the couch. A small, proud smirk found its way onto his face. He immediately knocked on the glass to avoid creating an awkward situation, and the two inside were startled by the sound, looking over to him.
“Sorry,” he apologized, stepping inside. “It’s not really possible to call ahead.”
“It’s alright.” Atlanta laughed as she gave Jerry a hug that he was not expecting.
Ashley approached as well. Hands in her jean pockets, she looked slightly embarrassed, though it was neutralized by her kind, welcoming smile. “What brings you here?” she asked.
“Visiting,” he replied quickly. He attempted to change the subject.“Where’s Daniel?”
“He’s asleep upstairs,” Ashley answered. Suddenly, a quiet beep echoed from Ashley’s wrist and she looked at her digital watch to cut off the noise. “I have to go to the bridge for my guard duty now. I’ll see you all later.”
On her way out, she gave Atlanta and Jerry a quick hug and started walking towards. “Say hi to Josie for me,” Jerry said. She smiled at him in reply and closed the front door behind her.
The door’s latch clicked and the two were left alone. Jerry ran a hand through his brown hair and turned to face Atlanta. He tilted his head and scratched his neck. “Do you…” He stopped, ending all movements. “Do blame me? For what happened back at Harvest Hills?”
Atlanta was surprised for a second. But she quickly replied without hesitation: “No. Of course not. You were coping with it, same as us all.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “If you’re feeling guilty about it, just remember who drew the X on the gate.”
“Who did draw the big red X?” Jerry questioned.
“Trevor,” Atlanta said quietly, and with subtle but burning resentment.
“Yeah,” he muttered with an even greater level of spite. “Did he ever confess to that?”
She shrugged. “Not explicitly; but does it matter?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “it doesn’t matter. It’s just one of the things that makes me think, makes me wonder.” Jerry sighed and turned to the sliding glass door as he crossed his arms. “If I wasn’t being such a… such an ass back at Harvest Hills, do you think it could have ended differently? I mean… imagine if I didn’t cause all the trouble that I did. Maybe Anthony could have lived…”
Atlanta got closer to Jerry and put a comforting hand on his back. “It’s not your fault, Jerry. Don’t think like that. Don’t live in the past.”
He looked at her with a grim appreciation then turned back to the glass door, staring at the backyard. “It’s nice, the backyard. You and Ashley have taken good care of it.” For some reason, he chuckled. “You know, I was always a dick. I guess, this fuckery, it made me a sociopath.”
“C’mon, I can believe that you were a dick, but you’re not a sociopath,” she said with confidence that did little to reassure Jerry.
“Then I’m…. I’m definitely something,” he mumbled. Arms crossed, he turned to her. “I want to tell Daniel the whole truth about Santiago’s death. I want him to have someone to blame if he wants to. I can’t rob him of that.”
“What good will that do?” Atlanta questioned.
He shrugged. “No good at all. It’ll just rekindle pain.” His eyes suddenly flashed some kind of emotion that was hard to place, and he admitted, “Maybe for it’s me. Maybe I can’t live with this kind of guilt. But for whatever reason, I want to tell him the truth.”
“Are you sure about that, Jerry? He’ll--” She sniffled slightly and stopped. “He will hate you for that, for a while. And I don't want him to hate you.”
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
[Don't tell Daniel the truth.]
[Lead Atlanta to believe you won’t, but tell Daniel anyway.]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the do… morector grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getti… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the do… morector grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getti… [view original content]
Obviously, telling Daniel the truth is something Jerry deeply wants and judging by his hallucinations, it greatly troubles his mind. I fail to see any reason for lying to Atlanta about this. She and Jerry are friends and as the woman who takes care of Daniel, perhaps she can make this easier for both of them. By the way, speaking of Jerry's hallucinations, it looks like I was wrong with my earlier statement that he is alright. This looks really bad and I am concerned for Jerry now. On top of that is his guilt. I have never thought that I would one day say that he is too hard on himself when looking back on his earlier behaviour. Yes, he has been a complete asshole and he caused a lot of trouble, but he is too hard on himself here and blames himself for too much. Everything up to and including the death of Stan has been his fault, but everything that happened afterwards was out of his control. The fall of Harvest Hills and the death of Anthony is solely the fault of Trevor. Of course, Jerry should talk to Dan and he should also talk to Josie, if it makes him feel better, but at least in Josie's case I doubt she will have a grudge on him for this. Dan is something else though, as he is a kid and I don't know how he will react. But in the end, I hope that this will be for the best of both of them.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the do… morector grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getti… [view original content]
I wouldn't go as far to call them hallucinations. They're nightmares, and if anything, they're occasionally daydreams.
And given the situation Jerry was in with Anthony, the fact that Anthony made him leave is probably what makes him feel so guilty about death, no matter how unplaced that guilt is.
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
Obviously, telling Daniel the truth is something Jerry deeply wants and judging by his hallucinations, it greatl… morey troubles his mind. I fail to see any reason for lying to Atlanta about this. She and Jerry are friends and as the woman who takes care of Daniel, perhaps she can make this easier for both of them. By the way, speaking of Jerry's hallucinations, it looks like I was wrong with my earlier statement that he is alright. This looks really bad and I am concerned for Jerry now. On top of that is his guilt. I have never thought that I would one day say that he is too hard on himself when looking back on his earlier behaviour. Yes, he has been a complete asshole and he caused a lot of trouble, but he is too hard on himself here and blames himself for too much. Everything up to and including the death of Stan has been his fault, but everything that happened afterwards was out of his control. The fall of Harvest Hi… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the do… morector grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getti… [view original content]
I wouldn't go as far to call them hallucinations. They're nightmares, and if anything, they're occasionally daydreams.
That does not sound much better. I mean, nightmares and daydreams, whatever it is, it is pretty heavy. That stuff with Stan and the bees... I'm concerned for Jerry, I really am. Worst part is, I am not entirely sure how much of this is actually caused by his guilt over Stan's and Anthony's deaths and how much of it is a result of his brain trauma.
And given the situation Jerry was in with Anthony, the fact that Anthony made him leave is probably what makes him feel so guilty about death, no matter how unplaced that guilt is.
I can definitely understand why he feels guilty. I mean, the situation that caused Anthony's death partially came up because he tried to save Jerry's ass. Of course, it was still Trevor's fault, but considering Jerry's current emotional state, I am not even surprised that he feels guilty for Anthony's death as well. I already noticed in the earlier chapters of Act 2 that his behaviour around Josie was heavily driven by guilt about Anthony's death. This and his guilt over Stan's death, paired with whatever damage the bullet did, that can't be good for him in any way. I really hope he can get over that guilt. At least a talk with Josie should ease his conscience. It's highly unlikely that she will hold a grudge against him. It's Dan I am worried about, as I have no idea how he is going to react.
By the way, I just remembered the part where Jerry put down the zombified Anthony. You wrote that there was a silhouette looking down on him, from the window of the house Dean and Josie were hiding. Does that mean that Josie actually watched him crushing Anthony's skull?
I wouldn't go as far to call them hallucinations. They're nightmares, and if anything, they're occasionally daydreams.
And given the situ… moreation Jerry was in with Anthony, the fact that Anthony made him leave is probably what makes him feel so guilty about death, no matter how unplaced that guilt is.
I had to go back and look. The answer is no: Anthony and Jerry were wandering up north on the west side of the wall, far out of view of the house Josephine and Dean took refuge in, which would have been on the east side and at the very bottom. However, I don't think it was explicitly stated.
I wouldn't go as far to call them hallucinations. They're nightmares, and if anything, they're occasionally daydreams.
That does not… more sound much better. I mean, nightmares and daydreams, whatever it is, it is pretty heavy. That stuff with Stan and the bees... I'm concerned for Jerry, I really am. Worst part is, I am not entirely sure how much of this is actually caused by his guilt over Stan's and Anthony's deaths and how much of it is a result of his brain trauma.
And given the situation Jerry was in with Anthony, the fact that Anthony made him leave is probably what makes him feel so guilty about death, no matter how unplaced that guilt is.
I can definitely understand why he feels guilty. I mean, the situation that caused Anthony's death partially came up because he tried to save Jerry's ass. Of course, it was still Trevor's fault, but considering Jerry's current emotional state, I am not even surprised that he feels gu… [view original content]
So, since my Halloween costume remains unfinished, I need to take a break. I'm going to enter a contest with it and it needs to be my only focus if I want to have a chance at completing it. The break is going to last from now to the end of October (which is when the contest ends), but it may end sooner or later than expected. Thank you for your understanding!
This is what I'm making:
I have most of the pieces built and all that remains is hotgluing a frame on the inside of each piece (and that's taking forever <), sealing it so I can move on to painting it, then I have to attach buckles and probably other stuff so I can wear it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the do… morector grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getti… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the do… morector grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getti… [view original content]
I have finished my Halloween costume so my attention can finally return to writing! I've written a few pages in my absence, but it needs some refinement. Nevertheless, there should be a new part soon
Voting is closed!
(!) Jerry will strive to tell Daniel the truth
I have finished my Halloween costume so my attention can finally retu… morern to writing! I've written a few pages in my absence, but it needs some refinement. Nevertheless, there should be a new part soon
Voting is closed!
(!) Jerry will strive to tell Daniel the truth
I have finished my Halloween costume so my attention can finally retu… morern to writing! I've written a few pages in my absence, but it needs some refinement. Nevertheless, there should be a new part soon
Maria approached the gate after Jake had waited about ten minutes. She donned a pixie cut after having a close encounter in which a walker latched hold of her hair. Her autumn clothing consisted of a light jacket and blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of flexible sneakers.
Danny smiled at her grimly and the three grouped-up a dozen yards away from the gate. Jake flashed a welcoming grin and gave Maria a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” he said, beaming. “How did things at Alpha?”
Alpha -- Botines, Texas: a tiny speck of a town situated a little over five miles north of Laredo on Interstate 35 (which led straight to San Antonio after another 150 miles). Since scavengers had been having to go further and further away from the safe-zone to find untouched places to gather items, outposts were set up so the runners could drop their supplies off without having to travel the extra five miles, so everything gathered could be dropped off in a bundle. Botines was the first of these outposts; now referred to as Alpha.
“Someone was bitten, but Dom went into a cold-and-calculating mode and cut the guy’s leg off. If you see someone limping around the infirmary, that’d be his handiwork. But since no one died, I consider it a success,” Maria replied. “Anyway, I got back yesterday ahead of everyone else with the bite victim. Overslept. Sorry.”
Jake nodded and directed the two towards the gate. “We’ll be ready to leave, then, as soon as we’ve taken care of the dead that are gathering outside.” Maria walked past them and stood on her toes to peer over the gate. Jake spoke up again, “There’s seven.”
“Eight now,” Maria corrected. She frowned bitterly when they noticed her presence and launched a volley of gargling-like noises and growls; slowly, she backed away disgusted. “What’s are A-game?”
“Well, ‘protocol’ is to have a third person opening the gate and handling the runoff, which is what we had in mind for you,” Jake answered.
“The closer, the… worse-r,” Maria mumbled, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “The walk here woke me up completely, so I’m game if need be.”
“Sounds good,” Danny murmured hesitantly as he drew a large knife and did his best to prepare himself. He made a brief, joking face towards Maria that did more to confuse her than anything else, and he waited a few feet from the gate.
Jake scratched his head of brown hair that was made sticky in the high humidity and took the position on the opposite side of Danny, and Maria soon stood between the two. Pressing their bodies against the gate while Maria unlocked two cane bolts on the bottom of the gate that pierced the pavement, a sliding bolt from the top, and then finally a sliding bolt at the center of the gate.
The weight of the dead suddenly made the gate cave inwards slightly and the three were forced to compensate, holding their ground with difficulty. As they waited for Jake to draw his combat knife, they counted down from three; the trio then pushed with a force unforeseen by the dead, causing the rotten corpses to stumble backward, and allowing a three-foot-wide window for Jake and Danny to slip through.
On the other side, the two quickly caught the attention of the walkers that remained standing and roused the ones that tumbled back onto the pavement. Striding forward to the first in his path, Jake kicked the knee of the corpse and drove his blade through its bottom jaw at an angle, separating the brainstem.
“Ew, ew, ew,” Danny mumbled as he replicated the act and inflicted a particularly bloody wound on what must have been a fresher walker, resulting in the same toppled corpse as Jake’s, but with his hand getting covered in nasty-smelling blood.
Maria’s expression grew concerned when one of the six remaining walkers (two of which were still crawling, unable to climb to their feet) got too close to Danny for her own comfort. She left her post at the gate to impel the back of the walker’s head, causing Danny to look at her with brief surprise before he shot a small, appreciative nod.
Dispatching the other five walkers was easy, all considering, between the three of them. It was difficult to keep a hold on the grip of their knives when the corpses fell, but even that was hardly a hindrance. The trio of Jake, Maria and Danny were stood among the bodies, breathing heavy, but didn’t even have the time to break a sweat.
The Zombies played in the red pickup truck to distract from the deathly silence. Fortunately, windows up, the sound didn’t leave the cabin.
The backroad they drove on caused the truck to bounce, and the constant sound of crunching gravel emanated from the below chassis. Jake steered with a frown on his face, feeling a sense of disquiet as they neared their destination. Maria stared out the passenger’s side window at Lake Casa Blanca. And Danny sat on the on the center console (since it was a two-seater) and held tightly to the armrests, trying to not hit his head on the roof when the vehicle bounced.
“Jesus!” Danny exclaimed suddenly when they unexpected rock, launching him half an inch into the air. “I don’t remember it being this goddamn bumpy.”
“The heavy rainfall from last spring must’ve done a number on the road,” Jake concluded. He shook his head disappointedly. “These gray clouds could mean more flooding. They’ve been on the horizon for a day and we woke to them overhead. I’m surprised we haven’t had some rain.”
“Same,” Maria agreed. “How high do you think the Rio Grande will get this time? Danny and I, we put a marker there last time.”
“It’s already started to swell, according to Josie,” Jake said.
“Anyway.” Danny licked his lips nervously. “So, what are going to say to him, this guy?”
Jake shrugged. “We’ve left them alone for a while. It’s time we say something.”
“But what will that be?” Danny persisted. “I don’t like the fact that we’re going in without a game plan. At the very least a topic.”
“Are you afraid of small talk?” Maria said, smiling.
“No,” he replied a little too quickly. “I’m just not comfort going to the house of a guy who has a sniper rifle that could kill any of us from a quarter mile away.”
Jake shrugged once more. “The guy saved my life, Danny. Besides, you said it yourself, he has a nice dog.”
“After hearing about how he shot Zafir from a really long distance, I’ve decided that probably isn’t the best judge of character,” Danny replied.
Maria frowned. “He saved Jake.”
“Think about it, though, the guy could have done the same to Jake if he was holding Zafir at gunpoint.” Jake looked at him for a second, found the point Danny was trying to make, but quickly returned to the road. “Just-- Let’s just not go in trusting whoever this person is. They could be ever dangerous.”
Jake nodded. “Of course.”
Maria let out a sigh. “Let’s just hope the dog’s attitude is a good example of the master’s.”
The red pickup truck grinded the gravel beneath the tires as it came to a full stop in front of the red house. It was two-story, shrouded by trees, vines climbed the chain link fence. The line of six houses was hidden from all angles, even from the waterfront.
As the three left the vehicle, Jake turned the volume of the stereo almost all the way down, until it was just a small whisper. He looked towards the house, at the barred windows, and felt a sense of foreboding worry. What Danny said didn’t just have a grain of truth; it had a handful.
“Let’s get on with this,” Jake said, not letting his fear get the best of him, or even allow it to show on up on his expression. He had a good poker face. While approaching the porch, his perception felt heightened to the point that the yellow and orange leaves quivering in the wind made him suspicious. Like they were watching him walk down the concrete path.
A thought graced his mind, causing him to feel the sense of dread. What did he last say to Josie? It took a few seconds of concentration, in which he ignored his surroundings while he kept inching forward. ‘Bye, Josie,’ he remembered. That was it. His last words to her.
Not very poetic, he thought. Eh, it was simplistic at the very least.
The duo arrived at the porch and Maria passed Danny on her way to the front door, touching his arm to reassure herself and him. Jake gave permission with a nod and she knocked three times on the mahogany door while he let his hand hover near his holster.
After a few moments of uninterrupted silence, Maria knocked another few times. She finally pressed her ear to the door, sparking disapproving, but more so worried expressions from Jake and Danny. Maria listened carefully to sounds that pierced the trick door, hearing the house creaking subtly in the wind.
Three more times, she knocked. She listened again and, at last, heard the sound of an animal stirring while what appeared to be a human followed it. “The dog and its master are coming,” she murmured while backing a few steps away from the door.
The door’s lock clicked and there was a sliding sound as the person inside pulled a bolt. Slowly, it fell open enough to allow a dog to force its way outside. While Jake kept his eyes on the door, Maria knelt to pet the dog.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s a pussy,” a man muttered as he looked out, not passing the threshold of the doorway. He appeared to be in his very early twenties, had short black hair and patchy stubble. He wore a tight black t-shirt that showcased his defined muscles, cargo pants, a belt with a large sheath attached to it from which the hilt of a machete protruded, and a pair of combat boots.
The man surveyed them with his eyes for a few prolonged seconds before Jake finally spoke up. “Hello,” he said, eying the stranger with a great level of a suspicion. “You’re the sniper who killed the man on the bridge eight months ago, right?”
“Yeaaah,” he replied slowly. “Who’s asking?”
“Jake, Danny, Maria,” Jake introduced, inclining his head towards his two companions respectively.
The man suddenly seemed to be caught off guard. “Maria?” he repeated. “Maria... Espinosa?”
Maria froze and locked eyes with the stranger who knew her name. “Yes,” she said, rising from the overzealous canine. “Who-- Who are you? Do I know you?”
“It’s Ash, remember?” He frowned. “Don’t you remember me?”
Maria’s eyes widened and she began to crack a smile. “Asher Lombardi.” She stabbed him with a finger in a friendly way. “You motherfucker. Where have you been?”
“All over the place,” he replied. “My dad was in the military, you know. I was sort of following in his footsteps when, BOOM, shit happened. I came back here since it was the only place I knew well, had friends -- and speaking of, where’s Christian? Is he okay?”
“Christian…” Jake mumbled while rubbing his face disappointedly. “He died on our way here. He was bitten… fading in and out of consciousness...” At that moment, Jake felt the sting of guilt. “He’s dead now.”
“Shit,” Asher muttered, clearly upset with the revelation. “But you’re okay, right?” he questioned, directing his attention towards Maria again. “You’re alright, right?”
She managed a nod. “I’m fine. Better than ever, really.” She turned back and looked in the general direction of the safe-zone. “It’s a fucking blessing to have a stable community.” Maria jumped back towards Asher. “You’ve gotta join us. That’s why we’re here. We’re extending an invitation of sorts.”
Asher licked his lips and looked over the three, letting his vision fall on Danny. “What about you? What do you have to say about your community?”
“It’s the only remnant of civilization for miles upon miles,” he answered. “I’d say that’s something.”
“Yeah.” Asher nodded. He flashed a smile towards Maria and his expression became serious when turning to Jake. “Consider me an honorary member, then. I watched both the safe-zones rise and fall, so I’m not too comfortable with it right now. I also like it here, and would rather stay here.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 5)
Eight Months Later
Jake Morrison
Maria approached the gate after Jake had waited about ten minutes. She don… morened a pixie cut after having a close encounter in which a walker latched hold of her hair. Her autumn clothing consisted of a light jacket and blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of flexible sneakers.
Danny smiled at her grimly and the three grouped-up a dozen yards away from the gate. Jake flashed a welcoming grin and gave Maria a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” he said, beaming. “How did things at Alpha?”
Alpha -- Botines, Texas: a tiny speck of a town situated a little over five miles north of Laredo on Interstate 35 (which led straight to San Antonio after another 150 miles). Since scavengers had been having to go further and further away from the safe-zone to find untouched places to gather items, outposts were set up so the runners could drop their supplies off without having to travel the extr… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 5)
Eight Months Later
Jake Morrison
Maria approached the gate after Jake had waited about ten minutes. She don… morened a pixie cut after having a close encounter in which a walker latched hold of her hair. Her autumn clothing consisted of a light jacket and blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of flexible sneakers.
Danny smiled at her grimly and the three grouped-up a dozen yards away from the gate. Jake flashed a welcoming grin and gave Maria a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” he said, beaming. “How did things at Alpha?”
Alpha -- Botines, Texas: a tiny speck of a town situated a little over five miles north of Laredo on Interstate 35 (which led straight to San Antonio after another 150 miles). Since scavengers had been having to go further and further away from the safe-zone to find untouched places to gather items, outposts were set up so the runners could drop their supplies off without having to travel the extr… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 5)
Eight Months Later
Jake Morrison
Maria approached the gate after Jake had waited about ten minutes. She don… morened a pixie cut after having a close encounter in which a walker latched hold of her hair. Her autumn clothing consisted of a light jacket and blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of flexible sneakers.
Danny smiled at her grimly and the three grouped-up a dozen yards away from the gate. Jake flashed a welcoming grin and gave Maria a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” he said, beaming. “How did things at Alpha?”
Alpha -- Botines, Texas: a tiny speck of a town situated a little over five miles north of Laredo on Interstate 35 (which led straight to San Antonio after another 150 miles). Since scavengers had been having to go further and further away from the safe-zone to find untouched places to gather items, outposts were set up so the runners could drop their supplies off without having to travel the extr… [view original content]
That was a great chapter I already suspected the sniper to be Christian's old friend Asher from that flashback a while ago, so I'm glad to see that I was right here and that he is apparently a good guy. Now all that is left is giving the fantastic dog a name. I think they will be good additions to the community. I also really like the dynamic between Maria and Danny, looks like they became quite good friends during this timeskip. Also, even in parts where they have no scenes together, the relationship between Josie and Jake still continues to be just adorable. Even when he is in potentially lethal danger, he still has to think of her and how crappy his last words to her had been. I am not ready for the heartbreaking feels that will come out of this sooner or later.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 5)
Eight Months Later
Jake Morrison
Maria approached the gate after Jake had waited about ten minutes. She don… morened a pixie cut after having a close encounter in which a walker latched hold of her hair. Her autumn clothing consisted of a light jacket and blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of flexible sneakers.
Danny smiled at her grimly and the three grouped-up a dozen yards away from the gate. Jake flashed a welcoming grin and gave Maria a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” he said, beaming. “How did things at Alpha?”
Alpha -- Botines, Texas: a tiny speck of a town situated a little over five miles north of Laredo on Interstate 35 (which led straight to San Antonio after another 150 miles). Since scavengers had been having to go further and further away from the safe-zone to find untouched places to gather items, outposts were set up so the runners could drop their supplies off without having to travel the extr… [view original content]
He managed a nod. “He needs to know. I can’t put it off any longer. I can’t keep it from him any longer in good conscience.” Jerry looked at the flight of stairs in the corner of the room and grimaced. “I’m going to tell him the truth.”
Atlanta frowned, following his stare to the stairs, and shook her head. “He’s going to be mad, Jerry. Really confused, angry at you. Do you really want that?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he repeated sterner this time.
She sighed. “At least wait for him to wake up on his own.”
“Of course.” Jerry hesitantly found a seat on the couch and crossed his legs. Atlanta then sat next to him.
He rubbed his temple for a brief second before he found the scar and caressed it. “Sometimes I wake up, I feel like I’ve just been shot in the head again, I breathe heavily for a few seconds, groping at this little shit”- he jabbed at his head with an annoyed finger -”until I realize I’m in my bed, fine. It happens every once and awhile. It fucks with me.”
“I’m sorry. That must seriously suck,” Atlanta said. “Ashley dealt with the same thing for a while. Still happens. Almost at random, it seems.” She let out a long sigh and brought her leg up on the couch. “Sometimes it’s hard to sleep. All of us here, we don’t sleep like we used to. Honestly, though, I’m afraid of settling in after what happened at Harvest Hills. Just some voice, I guess, in the back of my head that tells me not to get comfortable.”
Jerry nodded. “I have that voice, too.”
“I think we all do,” Atlanta said.
He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I just want it to shut the fuck up and let me live like I used to.”
“What were you before, anyway?” she questioned. “I don’t think we’ve ever sat down and talked about this kind of stuff before. ‘What we were before’.”
He sat back up and let out a sigh mixed with a small chuckle. “Well, I already mentioned that I was an asshole. Not a self-preserving asshole like I was early on; just an asshole-asshole.” He found himself smiling, but felt embarrassed admitting it. “I was a womanizer.”
“Seriously?” She laughed and shook her head with disbelief.
“What?” Jerry sat up straighter. “I was.”
“Yeah, right.” She sighed, still smiling. “How many women did you sleep with, then?”
“I was an asshole. I didn’t keep count like some dickwad.” He laughed. Stopping suddenly, he realized it felt strange to laugh.
“But you never met someone you liked?” Atlanta went on “Like, actually fancy someone. I mean, Mrs. Stewart material.”
He shrugged, taking on a much more mellow demeanor. “There were a few. Never worked out in the end.”
“What about your family?” she asked.
“I don’t like thinking about them, honestly.” He sighed deeply. “I mean, they’re all the way up in Virginia. And there’s, what, 300 billion people in America? The likelihood they survived is next to nil-- No—lower than nil, even.”
“Yeah.” She frowned. “I’m sorry for bringing that up.”
“Hey, hey, don’t sweat it.” Jerry chuckled again. “You know something? I used to hunt game. I’m an expert with a rifle. I want to start contributing again, too. I could hunt. I could--” he stopped, lowering his eyes. “I could teach--”
Atlanta noticed his face suddenly darken. “What’s wrong?”
“Did I ever tell you, or anyone for that matter, what Santiago was wanting from me so badly?” He realized his hands were forming fists and quickly tried to relax, to no avail. “He just wanted me to show how to use a rifle. Of course, I said no. And that lead him to his death.”
“Jerry don’t--” Atlanta began, but was cut off.
“My. Fucking. Fault.” He rose abruptly. “I don’t deserve this -- some moment of calmness -- I don’t deserve it. I don’t know why I thought I did...” Jerry started walking towards the sliding door before he stopped. Atlanta was next to him when he repeated once more: “I’m going to tell him the truth... soon.”
“Jerry don’t be so fucking hard on yourself. It wasn’t all your fault--” Atlanta stopped and massaged her temple with frustration.
“It’s my fault…” he muttered.
“It’s not your fucking fault!” she yelled at him. “Stop torturing yourself like this! It’s painful for me to see you like this, for Ashley and Jake -- for Josie. Jerry, you’re not to blame for all that happened to us.”
“You know, Atlanta, you just don’t know.” He back up to the glass door. “You just don’t know.” Jerry pulled the sliding door open and, striding quickly across the lawn, pushed himself through the gate and the metal sheet until he was standing in the alleyway between all of the houses, and the yards, and orange trees, and then he just ran -- and he sort of lost himself.
Jerry stood over a dead corpse and felt he should be contemplating something, anything; but he found that he was just staring at it. Rotting, there in the street, it looked pitiful. It seemed unrestful and -- while dead, completely dead -- it looked like it wasn’t ready for its untimely fate.
Maybe he was actually contemplating something. It didn’t feel like it to him. To him, he was just looking at a dead guy who died in a very undignified position that almost made him look like he was trying to replicate an Egyptian dance.
The sound of a vehicle moving shook him from the trance the corpse so strangely inflicted. He instinctively jumped over a short, picket fence and hunkered down with the overgrown plants. Jerry watched as a jeep of a dull color drove towards a peculiar location, before its driver parked and abandoned it with two other passengers.
At the distance he was watching, all of them looked oddly familiar. Two of them were short and female, and the third was a male teen. One of the women, who had skin the shade of chocolate, pulled down their muted orange hoodie to reveal very short dreadlocks and a scowl as she scanned their vicinity with her prying eyes.
“Huh.” He stole another look and watched as the group walked around the corner, in the general direction of the safe zone's northern gate. Jerry rolled onto his back and massaged his forehead again, lying in the grass. “Well.”
Ashley Baker
Bridge Two was cold, Josephine could attest to the fact that Bridge One was just as cold.
Upon Ashley’s arrival, she and the night guard switched places. She now wore a thick black jacket passed on to her out of pity and carried the slick, black M4A1 Carbine with a tactical flashlight attachment used by the bridge guards to scan the water. The walkers never got to either side of the bridge on any of the bridges. They occasionally killed the walkers that floated down the Rio Grande from about twenty feet away from the water, atop the bridge.
The cold nip at her bare fingers and she shoved them in the jacket’s pockets while letting the Carbine hang from her neck by a line that also passed under her shoulder.
A voice came in over the radio with a crackle that persisted throughout their speech. “There’s a body coming towards you. I missed it with the damn catch,” Josephine said from about a thousand feet up the river.
Ashley reluctantly removed her hands from her pockets and grabbed the walkie-talkie. She rushed towards the railing of the bridge while taking a more prominent grip on her carbine to keep it from bouncing freely. She leaned over and saw a clump of something that stood out in the gray-shaded water.
She pressed down a button. “I see it.”
Returning the walkie-talkie to its place on her belt, she sat the carbine by the railing and went to pick up the catch pole.
The catch pole laid on the pavement by the railing. It was reminiscent of what dog catchers used to snatch dogs. They shared the noose-like loop of rope and slender pole. The difference between them was the fact that the ones they used were incredibly long so they could reach the water far below. It was awkward to move, difficult to manage, but Ashley was able to set it in body’s path with relative ease.
She waited for a little under half a minute, adjusting the position of the pole when it became obvious that the body would pass by it, and it soon reached her. It was completely motionless until the loop went tight around its neck. Then what was revealed to be a walker struggled weakly against the pull of the water.
Ashley leaned further over the railing to get a look at the walker’s face as it was pushed under the bridge by the river. She got a good image of it, even with the water splashing over it. Its face was mutilated to the point that it look liked a pile of gore, almost unrecognizable as once human.
Ashley unwrapped the rope tied to her end of the catch pole to let the walker float downstream. It didn’t release as the rope loosened. Realizing the walker had been entangled, she struggled to grab the walkie-talkie. “Josie, it’s caught in the rope! I’m gonna need some help!”
The crackly voice of Josephine emanated: ”Oh, shit. I’m too far away. Radio the gate guard for some help.”
“Alright.” Ashley pushed a small switch and changed to a different frequency. “This is Ashley on Bridge Two. A walker is tangled in the rope and won’t get the fuck off.”
She waited a few prolonged seconds for an answer.
”This is Tommy, filling in for Jake’s shift,” the voice said. ”I’ve got a problem myself, and was actually about to radio either one of you for help—we’ve got three strangers approaching the gate.”
She cursed loudly, then returned the walkie-talkie to her lips. “If I don’t do something it’s going to take the whole pole. I’m cutting the rope.”
”Whatever,” Tommy said, sounding stressed. “Get over here quickly—they’re smiling at me and it’s making me uneasy.”
“I get it. I’ll be there soon.” She huffed a tired breath as she returned the walkie-talkie to her belt, replacing it with a knife and pulling the pole closer to her chest. She started sawing through the rope with the serrated edge of the blade. She braced herself as it snapped and watched dishearted as the walker resumed its course down the river with the rope following in its trail.
She switched the frequency to speak with Josephine. “It’s been taken care of,” Ashley informed. “Tommy’s apparently manning the gate in Jake’s absence. He said there were people approaching him. I’m going over to help.”
”’New people’?” she repeated. Her tone sounded concerned, but more so curious.
“Apparently. I’ll tell you all about when I get back. Over and out.” Ashley returned the walkie-talkie to her belt, awkwardly laid the pole on the bridge and held her carbine as she ran down the northern end of the bridge.
Her arrival at the northern gate was greeted by Tommy turning to look at her from the left platform. The platform was made of wood and raised about a meter off the ground, and it had a twin on the right side of the gate. He stood atop it with an M16 hanging from his shoulder, and a six shot revolver on one side of his belt and a machete on the other.
Tommy was Caucasian. He had a full beard of the same shade of dark brown as his short hair. He wore dark blue jeans and a loose-fitting, plaid button-up with the sleeves rolled up past his forearms. And he had brown eyes with he had dark circles beneath them.
“Ashley.” He tossed her a large duffle bag, which she caught, and inclined his head towards the gate. “Open it up and confiscate their weapons. I’ll keep an eye on them from up here.”
Ashley nodded nervously and shoved the empty duffle bag under her arm as she approached the center of the gate and began the process of drawing back the bolts. She let one hand rest on the carbine’s grip, mostly for comfort and used the other to gently push one of the gate side open.
Lo and behold: the group of three were milling around the entrance with little to do until the gate opened. One, an adult woman, was investigating the corpses that were moved to one side from a distance while two teenagers climbed to their feet from where they sat when Ashley stepped through. Their sudden movement would have normally startled her but the two were recognizable, and that distracted her.
“Ashley!” the girl shouted. Remembering the armed guard atop the gate before running to embrace her, she froze and allowed the boy to stand next to her. “It’s us, Ashley—Lindsay and Keith.”
It took a second to register; there was some kind of disbelief in Ashley’s eyes. She took in their new appearance: Lindsay had the same blond, curly hair as before, only now it looked very dirty. Likewise, her blue jeans, gray jacket and the blue t-shirt she wore underneath were worse for wear. She and Keith shared a tired demeanor. Keith wore jeans and a black jacket that was zipped up. His short brown hair was parted hastily to one side.
“Holy shit,” Ashley murmured. She immediately grabbed the walkie-talkie from her belt, letting the duffle bag fall to the ground by accident, and held the button to speak with Josephine. “You’re not going to believe this.”
The woman who was idling on the sidelines crossed her arms and approached the reunion, and asked, “Is there a man named Jerry Stewart with you? My name is Sasha. I've been looking for him... for a very long time.”
He sat back up and let out a sigh mixed with a small chuckle. “Well, I already mentioned that I was an asshole. Not a self-preserving asshole like I was early on; just an asshole-asshole.” He found himself smiling, but felt embarrassed admitting it. “I was a womanizer.”
“Seriously?” She laughed and shook her head with disbelief.
“What?” Jerry sat up straighter. “I was.”
“Yeah, right.” She sighed, still smiling. “How many women did you sleep with, then?”
“I was an asshole. I didn’t keep count like some dickwad.” He laughed. Stopping suddenly, he realized it felt strange to laugh.
“But you never met someone you liked?” Atlanta went on “Like, actually fancy someone. I mean, Mrs. Stewart material.”
He shrugged, taking on a much more mellow demeanor. “There were a few. Never worked out in the end.”
I was kind of happy at this, and thinking back I knew why he didn't mention Sasha.
At the distance he was watching, all of them looked oddly familiar. Two of them were short and female, and the third was a male teen. One of the women, who had skin the shade of chocolate, pulled down their muted orange hoodie to reveal very short dreadlocks and a scowl as she scanned their vicinity with her prying eyes.
“Huh.” He stole another look and watched as the group walked around the corner, in the general direction of the safe zone's northern gate. Jerry rolled onto his back and massaged his forehead again, lying in the grass. “Well.”
My God once I saw shade of chocolate I flipped out. The only way I think I can describe how Jerry and I were is this gif:
The woman who was idling on the sidelines crossed her arms and approached the reunion, and asked, “Is there a man named Jerry Stewart with you? My name is Sasha. I've been looking for him... for a very long time.”
Jerry, such bad timing. Such bad timing. Such, such, bad timing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 6)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart
He managed a nod. “He needs to know. I can’t put it off any longer. I can’… moret keep it from him any longer in good conscience.” Jerry looked at the flight of stairs in the corner of the room and grimaced. “I’m going to tell him the truth.”
Atlanta frowned, following his stare to the stairs, and shook her head. “He’s going to be mad, Jerry. Really confused, angry at you. Do you really want that?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he repeated sterner this time.
She sighed. “At least wait for him to wake up on his own.”
“Of course.” Jerry hesitantly found a seat on the couch and crossed his legs. Atlanta then sat next to him.
He rubbed his temple for a brief second before he found the scar and caressed it. “Sometimes I wake up, I feel like I’ve just been shot in the head again, I breathe heavily for a few seconds, groping at this little shit”- he jabbed at his head wi… [view original content]
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 6)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart
He managed a nod. “He needs to know. I can’t put it off any longer. I can’… moret keep it from him any longer in good conscience.” Jerry looked at the flight of stairs in the corner of the room and grimaced. “I’m going to tell him the truth.”
Atlanta frowned, following his stare to the stairs, and shook her head. “He’s going to be mad, Jerry. Really confused, angry at you. Do you really want that?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he repeated sterner this time.
She sighed. “At least wait for him to wake up on his own.”
“Of course.” Jerry hesitantly found a seat on the couch and crossed his legs. Atlanta then sat next to him.
He rubbed his temple for a brief second before he found the scar and caressed it. “Sometimes I wake up, I feel like I’ve just been shot in the head again, I breathe heavily for a few seconds, groping at this little shit”- he jabbed at his head wi… [view original content]
“Is there a man named Jerry Stewart with you? My name is Sasha. I've been looking for him... for a very long time.”
I am not sure if this is good for Jerry or if he is completely fucked now... If Sasha is like I expect her to be, then it's probably a mixture of both. For some reason I am already pretty hyped for her, but I am also worried for Jerry's health. It was also great to see Lindsay and Keith again, I'm interested to see how they will react to the developments, after all that happened. I guess Keith's reaction to Zafir's death and Lindsay's reaction to Trevor's death will also be interesting. In any way, I am super excited for the next chapter
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 6)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart
He managed a nod. “He needs to know. I can’t put it off any longer. I can’… moret keep it from him any longer in good conscience.” Jerry looked at the flight of stairs in the corner of the room and grimaced. “I’m going to tell him the truth.”
Atlanta frowned, following his stare to the stairs, and shook her head. “He’s going to be mad, Jerry. Really confused, angry at you. Do you really want that?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he repeated sterner this time.
She sighed. “At least wait for him to wake up on his own.”
“Of course.” Jerry hesitantly found a seat on the couch and crossed his legs. Atlanta then sat next to him.
He rubbed his temple for a brief second before he found the scar and caressed it. “Sometimes I wake up, I feel like I’ve just been shot in the head again, I breathe heavily for a few seconds, groping at this little shit”- he jabbed at his head wi… [view original content]
I said I would share a picture of the armor after Halloween, and I will, but the image hosting website I use (which is Imgur) is currently acting up and won't load. I'll try again in a little while. For now, I'd just like to say I'm working on the new part for chapter twelve and am figuring out what is going to happen on the fly (I plan pretty vaguely most of the time). Hopefully my writing will pick up pace soon. Anyway, have a good day!
Updates:
I said I would share a picture of the armor after Halloween, and I will, but the image hosting website I use (which is Imgur) is… more currently acting up and won't load. I'll try again in a little while. For now, I'd just like to say I'm working on the new part for chapter twelve and am figuring out what is going to happen on the fly (I plan pretty vaguely most of the time). Hopefully my writing will pick up pace soon. Anyway, have a good day!
Updates:
I said I would share a picture of the armor after Halloween, and I will, but the image hosting website I use (which is Imgur) is… more currently acting up and won't load. I'll try again in a little while. For now, I'd just like to say I'm working on the new part for chapter twelve and am figuring out what is going to happen on the fly (I plan pretty vaguely most of the time). Hopefully my writing will pick up pace soon. Anyway, have a good day!
Chapter Twelve: Blissful Among the Scary Things (Part 1)
“Twenty-two cans of pineapple… about 280 calories per can… 6160 total.” The man turned the can to look at the bright, colorful picture on the label and he sighed distastefully while he returned it to the shelf to sit with its fellow cans of pineapple. He wrote what he had just said down on a clipboard and moved onto adding everything in the room up.
The total amount of calories in storage was about 2784210. With fifty-eight people in the community, rounding the amount of calories needed daily per person to 1000, the storeroom would be empty in sooner than forty-eight days. The scavengers were bringing in whatever they could find, and over the course of a week they found about a few days worth of food collectively -- the majority of which being inedible -- that now gave them about an extra week. The gardens in the southern hub brought roughly 70 pounds of food in pre week for the previous few weeks, and that wouldn’t sustain a group of fifty-eight for long on its own.
The man chewed the end of his pencil and muttered to himself while he shook his head, “In about two months… we’ll be fucked. We’ll be starving well before winter is over.”
He began reading their log from the last inspection again for what seemed like the fourth time. The records didn’t indicate any inconsistency and it was starting to make the man’s head hurt. His numbers were right. The revelation was hitting him. He took a seat at a nearby desk and massaged his temples. “We’re fucked.”
Jerry Stewart
Jerry sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the four graves. One belonged to Jordan, one to Clarice, and one to Zafir. The fourth was his own, but residing within it was the corpse of a someone else entirely. He saw all three of the legitimate graves as his enemies at one point or another; it was all faded now, though, like it didn’t matter anymore. They were now just a memory, like so many others.
The thought of lying deep in the cool earth seemed pleasant. Not dead, just asleep; just a deep sleep where even the nightmares wouldn’t be able to bother him. In that instant, he envied his counterpart.
“We should probably go back,” Stephen said. He stood at the corner of the farmhouse with his arms crossed. “They know you’re missing, you realize that, right? Probably looking for you this very second—”
“I know,” Jerry managed in a low tone. He stood up from the ground and didn’t bother dusting off the dirt his jeans had attracted. “Sasha… she’s here now. It changes things.”
“I doubt that’s your only reason for running away.” Stephen tilted his head and looked at Jerry as if he was staring through his soul. “You’re afraid of something else.”
“Let’s just go somewhere else, okay?” Jerry walked past Stephen and scanned the horizon of dark storm clouds, shaking his head. “Like resurrection could somehow make things right.”
“You really think they’d keep the fact that you’re alive from her?”
“I don’t know.” Jerry looked at his feet, feeling ashamed. “In a way, I hope so.”
“Why would you say that?” he questioned.
Jerry chuckled. “I’m fucking murderer, for starter’s. But her arrival didn’t change things -- it’s making me think, I guess, would she really know me anymore? Would I know her, even?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“But what if I’m right?” Jerry looked at Stephen for guidance. “What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me after she finds out what I’ve done? Or I find out she’s got a secret that would… make me look at her differently?”
“Only one way to find out,” Stephen repeated.
Jerry sighed, nodded in reluctant agreement, and repeated: “Only one way to find out.”
There was a sound that echoed from far behind Jerry. He turned to look at it and saw a walker stumbling forward, in the field behind the farmhouse. The noise it made were hard to hear from across the distance. It was unmistakable, though, as the grunt-like gargling of the corpse.
Some clicked inside Jerry, and he completely stood still, watching as it inched closer. He wasn’t scared. More so, he was curious. As the walker neared, Jerry stayed his ground and watched Stephen from the corner of his eye. Stephen didn’t seem nervous.
The walker was several meters away and it had a noticeable stench of rotting flesh from even that distance. The smell itself triggered a gagging reflex and, while he covered his mouth and nose with his forearm, Jerry decided it was time to leave. He brought the barrel of his pistol to the forehead of the walker as it reached him after its pointless trek across the field, and he applied gentle pressure to the trigger. It collapsed into the dirt, accompanied by the gunshot, its dark blood peppering the ground behind it.
“We’re in hell,” Jerry mumbled under his breath as he holstered his pistol and walked around the corner of the farmhouse. Stephen followed behind him, frowning. “How long do you think it’ll be until it’s just them? A few years? Maybe decade to get the stubborn ones?”
“I think you’re underestimating humanity,” Stephen said although he sounded just as hopeless.
They walked down the long, gravel driveway. Jerry watched his own feet as they continued. “I bet we’ll all be dead in a decade. There’s one consolation...”
Stephen looked at him. “And what’s that?”
“They’ll rot slowly.” Jerry looked down the road as they reached the end of the driveway. He breathed in deeply with his eyes closed and exhaled, looking at the horizons. “I won’t rot. I’ll burn. I need to make a will or something, so they know to cremate me. Gotta say how I want to be dealt with, too, since I don’t want Sasha to put my urn on a shelve.”
Stephen chuckled softly. “Where would you want your ashes to be spread?”
“I don’t know.” Jerry found that he was smiling slightly and sighed, erasing his smile completely. “Somewhere pleasant.”
“So…” Stephen had his hands in his pockets as they started back towards Laredo. “Are you going to talk to her?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
There was a sudden clap of thunder and the two looked skywards. Immediately, rain started pouring down and the wind began to pick up speed.
“We should get back before we get soaked,” Stephen advised.
Jerry shook his head. “It’s about a ten miles away. It’ll take us an hour at the very least. We’ll be soaked to the bone. We can hang out in the farmhouse until it passes.”
“Jake, Josephine and the others: they could very well be out looking for you.” Stephen gave him a serious look and once again, it felt like he was looking through Jerry’s soul. “They could get hurt in this weather.”
[Make the long, ten-or-so mile run back to Laredo.]
[Make the long, ten-or-so mile run back to Laredo.] No one should be out, so that shouldn't be an issue. Jerry is afraid Sasha won't accept him? That's....interesting.
Chapter Twelve: Blissful Among the Scary Things (Part 1)
“Twenty-two cans of pineapple… about 280 calories per can… 6160 total.” The man … moreturned the can to look at the bright, colorful picture on the label and he sighed distastefully while he returned it to the shelf to sit with its fellow cans of pineapple. He wrote what he had just said down on a clipboard and moved onto adding everything in the room up.
The total amount of calories in storage was about 2784210. With fifty-eight people in the community, rounding the amount of calories needed daily per person to 1000, the storeroom would be empty in sooner than forty-eight days. The scavengers were bringing in whatever they could find, and over the course of a week they found about a few days worth of food collectively -- the majority of which being inedible -- that now gave them about an extra week. The gardens in the southern hub brought roughly 70 pounds of food in pre week for the p… [view original content]
Chapter Twelve: Blissful Among the Scary Things (Part 1)
“Twenty-two cans of pineapple… about 280 calories per can… 6160 total.” The man … moreturned the can to look at the bright, colorful picture on the label and he sighed distastefully while he returned it to the shelf to sit with its fellow cans of pineapple. He wrote what he had just said down on a clipboard and moved onto adding everything in the room up.
The total amount of calories in storage was about 2784210. With fifty-eight people in the community, rounding the amount of calories needed daily per person to 1000, the storeroom would be empty in sooner than forty-eight days. The scavengers were bringing in whatever they could find, and over the course of a week they found about a few days worth of food collectively -- the majority of which being inedible -- that now gave them about an extra week. The gardens in the southern hub brought roughly 70 pounds of food in pre week for the p… [view original content]
Comments
[Tell him about the nightmares] I wouldn't be too particularly worried about Calvin and Stephen's relationship at this moment.
[Tell him about the nightmares.] Probably best to say something now, before it gets worse. Something I've learned over time.
[Thank him and send him on his way.]
[Tell him about the nightmares.]
Jerry seems to be in a lot better condition than I have expected and that's awesome! Of course, nightmares and stuff have been almost guaranteed, but I am positively amazed at the way he has healed. Anyway, Calvin is his doctor and after what he has been through, he should be completely honest about any problems bothering him.
Also, Josie met an interesting person. I'm not too sure what to make of Jefferson, but for now I kinda like him, he seemed to be honest enough with his advice. Hopefully this kid who apparently peeped on her really just wanted to see her half-naked. As much as that's not okay, it would be at least a lot better than the kid being some sort of psychopathic stalker, because that's the last thing Josie needs at the moment. But a preteen peeping tom is something she can undoubtly deal with. From what Jefferson revealed, I guess she is quite important in this new community, being part of some sort of council, which I assume is responsible for leading the community. So far, I have assumed that Jake would be the communities sole leader, but a council is definitely a better idea and I like the though of Josie being part of it. I wonder who else is part of this council. And I also wonder now who big the community is, if she has never even spoken to Jefferson before.
[Ask if he has something against Stephen.]
[Tell him about the nightmares.]
Awesome that Jefferson is introduced! I liked the scene with him and Josephine
And I am very happy about Jerry, he seems to be alright.
Voting is closed
(!) Jerry will tell Calvin about the nightmares
Sorry for the inactivity! I'm going to try to get this story back on track, and although I recently gave the long-neglected Silicon a few parts, I've mostly been procrastinating. Hopefully I can get a new part out for this soon, but I'm not sure how soon it will be. Thank you for your already exceptional patience!
Gosh darn it! i missed it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 4)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart—Gilbert Hotel—Laredo, Texas
Jerry looked Calvin in the eyes and saw the doctor grimace with worry as he returned his briefcase to the countertop and took a seat. Jerry found it hard to say it right away; after keeping the nightmares a secret for so long, it was difficult to spit out. “I have nightmares,” he managed in a low whisper while fidgeting his hands, his eyes fixated on them.
Calvin’s frown strengthened.“How long have you had them?” the doctor questioned with a serious tone.
“Since…” Jerry stopped, looked up to Calvin then returned to his hands. With a quaking voice, he said, “Since a boy died in our group. After that, the day just got worse… and I’m responsible for the boy’s death. Everyone’s death.” He looked up at Calvin for a second then returned to his hands. “I was a distraction, I caused problems, and because of that we weren’t prepared for the horde getting in our home. It was all my fault.” Jerry’s expression grew distant, and he repeated, “My fault.”
“That’s when the nightmares started?” Calvin said while he leaned closer. “How long have you’ve been living with this-- this guilt?”
“Since the beginning, when I put a bullet into my first dead one,” he said somberly. “Since I failed to act, to help; since I hurt Josie while I was in denial; since I got that boy, Santiago, killed…” He stopped abruptly and licked his lips, he went on, his voice cracking: “Since I got Anthony killed.” He paused and added, to better Calvin’s understanding, “He was Josephine’s brother.”
“Jesus,” Calvin mumbled as he ran a hand through his graying hair, allowing his shocked, wide-eyed gaze to fall to the lobby floor for a moment. “Jerry, I--” Calvin bit his lip, causing it to turn white. “Josephine, have you talked to her about this? About your guilt?”
“I haven’t,” he quietly answered.
Calvin frowned, giving him an urgent look. “You really should.”
“It’s not just her I should talk to,” Jerry said reluctantly. “Santiago - Stan, we called him - his younger brother is Dan. I got his brother killed. No more than twelve years old, he was. And I got him killed. I have nightmares about him the most.”
“You can make up for it, you can right your wrongs,” Calvin assured. ”And you already have. You’ve been protecting them, from all I’ve heard, for a very long time.”
Jerry looked Calvin in the eye with a cold, dead-set state. “I killed two brothers and have done so much more. I haven’t begun to repay them for what I did. And even then, I’m going to hell.” He eyed the glass door of the hotel, focusing on the gray skies and decayed landscape behind it. “Fuck,” he added, “maybe I’m already there.”
“Jerry, I have someone in the infirmary that I need to take care of. An appointment, if you will.” Calvin grimaced painfully. “But I can’t leave you like this. We concluded you were independent, I know, but I’m going to see if I can get someone to stay with you for the time being.”
He forced a bitter smile. “I have all the company I need.”
“Nonsense,” Calvin shot back while he clapped Jerry on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll drop you off at Atlanta’s place discreetly—are you okay with that?”
He didn’t answer right away. Jerry had looked off over Calvin’s shoulder at the glass door again. Calvin turned to follow his eye of slight, looking at a walker as it shambled closer to the window. Dried blood and rotting, pungent flesh covered its mouth and clothes.
“Jerry?” Calvin murmured to catch his attention.
“Huh?” he mumbled, looking back at him and blinking suddenly. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Then should I take care of it, or would you?” Calvin asked, now standing from his seat with his case in hand, reaching in his pocket to draw a clean knife.
Jerry stood as well and straightened his shirt. “I need to do something in my room, so if you don’t mind…” he glanced at the walking corpse and grimaced, “I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, Calvin watched Jerry retreat up a stairwell before he reluctantly approached the lobby entrance with a grim determination in his walk.
Upstairs, Jerry pushed open the room he lived in and looked around for Stephen. From the hallway, the man stepped into the room behind him and the two looked at each other. “I was looking for you,” he mumbled to Stephen. “Calvin and I are going out for a while. I’m not sure when we’ll be back.”
“Hmph,” Stephen huffed while he stepped past Jerry and into the room, arms crossed as he surveyed it. “Well, alright. But aren’t you forgetting something?”
Stephen inclined his head towards the nightstand drawer. “You’re right,” Jerry said. He walked towards the nightstand and pulled it open, retrieving a 9-millimeter pistol that he looked at in his hand for a second. “Full magazine,” he murmured, “10 bullets.”
He tucked it into a leather holster strapped to his belt and checked under the fold of his shirt for the knife on his opposite side. Stopping at the mirror, he studied his appearance once more; scoffing at the spot of pale flesh on his temple, he brushed his hair to cover it.
“Why do you want to hide your battle scars?” Stephen questioned from outside the bathroom.
“I don’t know,” he replied in a low whisper. “They’re not mine.” He turned to Stephen and walked past him to grab a black jacket with a fake, white-fur interior lining. “I’ll see you later,” Jerry said on his way out.
“I’ll be here, then,” Stephen replied glumly.
As Jerry reached the lobby, he saw Calvin standing over a toppled corpse with a bloodied knife. He looked disappointed and his eyes carried a sadness. Jerry opened the first door and stepped into the entrance, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head as he passed through the threshold of the final glass door. Greeting Calvin with the foggy vapor his breath produced in the cold air, they walked side by side until reaching the vehicle. Once they entered, Jerry rested his arm on the door and sat his head in his hand, watching through the side mirror as the hotel retreated.
There was a glowing silhouette of a young boy standing on the wall. It turned to Jerry, and when it opened its mouth to speak, bees flowed freely from it and swarmed into a hollowing black cloud that spiraled closer to Jerry at a daunting speed. Words finally left the boy’s lips: “Why did you let me die? Why didn’t you tell Daniel what happened?”
Jerry’s eyes fluttered open slowly, and with no surprise in his expression. Instead, he looked unsettled. He regained his sense of direction and looked at the place the doctor and him were currently at. It was a small, alley road between rows of houses that let them get right up close to the wall of the safe-zone.
They drove by a tall wooden privacy fence and stopped in front of it. It had been retrofitted, like the rest of the outer wall, with sheets of scrap metal for reinforcement that hid most of the wood from view. Secretly, underneath a loose panel, one piece of metal pivoted upon a single axle (AKA, a big screw) that allowed discreet entry to the backyard with little chance of a walker getting through, since it required leverage that a rotting corpse cannot replicate.
Each day a glorified wall-checker would do a patrol on a bicycle. They usually had significant practice with a long blade, typically a machete, which they used to dispatch very small groups of the dead. Their duty was to find weak points in the walls and places the dead were gathering. Although the patrols are instructed to leave larger groups of walkers alone, to report their last seen location to higher-ups so an armed guard could be assigned to take them out. Since the safe-zone is separated in two by the Rio Grande, each side has their own patrol. In the event the sides are cut off from each other, the council decided that having both sides mirrored would be a good fail-safe, that way they could operate independently if need be.
Climbing from the car, Jerry received a halfhearted smile and wave from Calvin before he drove off. He did not reply; he just continued towards the panel and awkwardly rotated it upwards, then he unlatched a small wooden gate behind it. Allowing the panel to fall behind him, Jerry passed through the gate and heard a small click as it closed.
The backyard was kept clean and trimmed, likely as a hobby. Flowers dotted it and there were a few tomato plants tucked away in one corner of the rectangular yard. It would have looked pleasant, if not for the depressing grayness that accompanied the atmosphere. Even so, it was calm, and Jerry appreciated calmness.
Onward to the porch, Jerry stepped up dark-chocolate stairs to the raised deck of the same color. A glass sliding door stood in his way. The dull light made it easy to see through the door. Jerry peered through to look inside and was greeted by seeing Atlanta and Ashley passionately kissing on the couch. A small, proud smirk found its way onto his face. He immediately knocked on the glass to avoid creating an awkward situation, and the two inside were startled by the sound, looking over to him.
“Sorry,” he apologized, stepping inside. “It’s not really possible to call ahead.”
“It’s alright.” Atlanta laughed as she gave Jerry a hug that he was not expecting.
Ashley approached as well. Hands in her jean pockets, she looked slightly embarrassed, though it was neutralized by her kind, welcoming smile. “What brings you here?” she asked.
“Visiting,” he replied quickly. He attempted to change the subject.“Where’s Daniel?”
“He’s asleep upstairs,” Ashley answered. Suddenly, a quiet beep echoed from Ashley’s wrist and she looked at her digital watch to cut off the noise. “I have to go to the bridge for my guard duty now. I’ll see you all later.”
On her way out, she gave Atlanta and Jerry a quick hug and started walking towards. “Say hi to Josie for me,” Jerry said. She smiled at him in reply and closed the front door behind her.
The door’s latch clicked and the two were left alone. Jerry ran a hand through his brown hair and turned to face Atlanta. He tilted his head and scratched his neck. “Do you…” He stopped, ending all movements. “Do blame me? For what happened back at Harvest Hills?”
Atlanta was surprised for a second. But she quickly replied without hesitation: “No. Of course not. You were coping with it, same as us all.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “If you’re feeling guilty about it, just remember who drew the X on the gate.”
“Who did draw the big red X?” Jerry questioned.
“Trevor,” Atlanta said quietly, and with subtle but burning resentment.
“Yeah,” he muttered with an even greater level of spite. “Did he ever confess to that?”
She shrugged. “Not explicitly; but does it matter?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “it doesn’t matter. It’s just one of the things that makes me think, makes me wonder.” Jerry sighed and turned to the sliding glass door as he crossed his arms. “If I wasn’t being such a… such an ass back at Harvest Hills, do you think it could have ended differently? I mean… imagine if I didn’t cause all the trouble that I did. Maybe Anthony could have lived…”
Atlanta got closer to Jerry and put a comforting hand on his back. “It’s not your fault, Jerry. Don’t think like that. Don’t live in the past.”
He looked at her with a grim appreciation then turned back to the glass door, staring at the backyard. “It’s nice, the backyard. You and Ashley have taken good care of it.” For some reason, he chuckled. “You know, I was always a dick. I guess, this fuckery, it made me a sociopath.”
“C’mon, I can believe that you were a dick, but you’re not a sociopath,” she said with confidence that did little to reassure Jerry.
“Then I’m…. I’m definitely something,” he mumbled. Arms crossed, he turned to her. “I want to tell Daniel the whole truth about Santiago’s death. I want him to have someone to blame if he wants to. I can’t rob him of that.”
“What good will that do?” Atlanta questioned.
He shrugged. “No good at all. It’ll just rekindle pain.” His eyes suddenly flashed some kind of emotion that was hard to place, and he admitted, “Maybe for it’s me. Maybe I can’t live with this kind of guilt. But for whatever reason, I want to tell him the truth.”
“Are you sure about that, Jerry? He’ll--” She sniffled slightly and stopped. “He will hate you for that, for a while. And I don't want him to hate you.”
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
[Don't tell Daniel the truth.]
[Lead Atlanta to believe you won’t, but tell Daniel anyway.]
What's the point in telling a kid the truth but lying to the kid's guardian?
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
[Tell Daniel the truth.] Come on, the kid deserves some form of restitution for what happened.
Anyways, great part! Atlanta and Ashley are so cute.
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
Obviously, telling Daniel the truth is something Jerry deeply wants and judging by his hallucinations, it greatly troubles his mind. I fail to see any reason for lying to Atlanta about this. She and Jerry are friends and as the woman who takes care of Daniel, perhaps she can make this easier for both of them. By the way, speaking of Jerry's hallucinations, it looks like I was wrong with my earlier statement that he is alright. This looks really bad and I am concerned for Jerry now. On top of that is his guilt. I have never thought that I would one day say that he is too hard on himself when looking back on his earlier behaviour. Yes, he has been a complete asshole and he caused a lot of trouble, but he is too hard on himself here and blames himself for too much. Everything up to and including the death of Stan has been his fault, but everything that happened afterwards was out of his control. The fall of Harvest Hills and the death of Anthony is solely the fault of Trevor. Of course, Jerry should talk to Dan and he should also talk to Josie, if it makes him feel better, but at least in Josie's case I doubt she will have a grudge on him for this. Dan is something else though, as he is a kid and I don't know how he will react. But in the end, I hope that this will be for the best of both of them.
I wouldn't go as far to call them hallucinations. They're nightmares, and if anything, they're occasionally daydreams.
And given the situation Jerry was in with Anthony, the fact that Anthony made him leave is probably what makes him feel so guilty about death, no matter how unplaced that guilt is.
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
I saw Children of the Corn earlier today and man PTSD is not good. Gotta to get rid of that stuff, you know? But....
What if Daniel isn't like Walter, and when Jerry needs help Daniel doesn't give it?
That does not sound much better. I mean, nightmares and daydreams, whatever it is, it is pretty heavy. That stuff with Stan and the bees... I'm concerned for Jerry, I really am. Worst part is, I am not entirely sure how much of this is actually caused by his guilt over Stan's and Anthony's deaths and how much of it is a result of his brain trauma.
I can definitely understand why he feels guilty. I mean, the situation that caused Anthony's death partially came up because he tried to save Jerry's ass. Of course, it was still Trevor's fault, but considering Jerry's current emotional state, I am not even surprised that he feels guilty for Anthony's death as well. I already noticed in the earlier chapters of Act 2 that his behaviour around Josie was heavily driven by guilt about Anthony's death. This and his guilt over Stan's death, paired with whatever damage the bullet did, that can't be good for him in any way. I really hope he can get over that guilt. At least a talk with Josie should ease his conscience. It's highly unlikely that she will hold a grudge against him. It's Dan I am worried about, as I have no idea how he is going to react.
By the way, I just remembered the part where Jerry put down the zombified Anthony. You wrote that there was a silhouette looking down on him, from the window of the house Dean and Josie were hiding. Does that mean that Josie actually watched him crushing Anthony's skull?
I had to go back and look. The answer is no: Anthony and Jerry were wandering up north on the west side of the wall, far out of view of the house Josephine and Dean took refuge in, which would have been on the east side and at the very bottom. However, I don't think it was explicitly stated.
Announcing a break:
So, since my Halloween costume remains unfinished, I need to take a break. I'm going to enter a contest with it and it needs to be my only focus if I want to have a chance at completing it. The break is going to last from now to the end of October (which is when the contest ends), but it may end sooner or later than expected. Thank you for your understanding!
This is what I'm making:
I have most of the pieces built and all that remains is hotgluing a frame on the inside of each piece (and that's taking forever
<), sealing it so I can move on to painting it, then I have to attach buckles and probably other stuff so I can wear it.
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
There is no point in dragging the guilt around with him for much longer. I hope Dan wont hate him forever.
[Tell Daniel the truth.]
Voting is closed!
(!) Jerry will strive to tell Daniel the truth
I have finished my Halloween costume so my attention can finally return to writing! I've written a few pages in my absence, but it needs some refinement. Nevertheless, there should be a new part soon
Welcome back!
Cool. How'd the costume turn out?
It looks good if you ask me. I might consider posting a picture after Halloween.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 5)
Eight Months Later
Jake Morrison
Maria approached the gate after Jake had waited about ten minutes. She donned a pixie cut after having a close encounter in which a walker latched hold of her hair. Her autumn clothing consisted of a light jacket and blue jeans, accompanied by a pair of flexible sneakers.
Danny smiled at her grimly and the three grouped-up a dozen yards away from the gate. Jake flashed a welcoming grin and gave Maria a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” he said, beaming. “How did things at Alpha?”
Alpha -- Botines, Texas: a tiny speck of a town situated a little over five miles north of Laredo on Interstate 35 (which led straight to San Antonio after another 150 miles). Since scavengers had been having to go further and further away from the safe-zone to find untouched places to gather items, outposts were set up so the runners could drop their supplies off without having to travel the extra five miles, so everything gathered could be dropped off in a bundle. Botines was the first of these outposts; now referred to as Alpha.
“Someone was bitten, but Dom went into a cold-and-calculating mode and cut the guy’s leg off. If you see someone limping around the infirmary, that’d be his handiwork. But since no one died, I consider it a success,” Maria replied. “Anyway, I got back yesterday ahead of everyone else with the bite victim. Overslept. Sorry.”
Jake nodded and directed the two towards the gate. “We’ll be ready to leave, then, as soon as we’ve taken care of the dead that are gathering outside.” Maria walked past them and stood on her toes to peer over the gate. Jake spoke up again, “There’s seven.”
“Eight now,” Maria corrected. She frowned bitterly when they noticed her presence and launched a volley of gargling-like noises and growls; slowly, she backed away disgusted. “What’s are A-game?”
“Well, ‘protocol’ is to have a third person opening the gate and handling the runoff, which is what we had in mind for you,” Jake answered.
“The closer, the… worse-r,” Maria mumbled, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “The walk here woke me up completely, so I’m game if need be.”
“Sounds good,” Danny murmured hesitantly as he drew a large knife and did his best to prepare himself. He made a brief, joking face towards Maria that did more to confuse her than anything else, and he waited a few feet from the gate.
Jake scratched his head of brown hair that was made sticky in the high humidity and took the position on the opposite side of Danny, and Maria soon stood between the two. Pressing their bodies against the gate while Maria unlocked two cane bolts on the bottom of the gate that pierced the pavement, a sliding bolt from the top, and then finally a sliding bolt at the center of the gate.
The weight of the dead suddenly made the gate cave inwards slightly and the three were forced to compensate, holding their ground with difficulty. As they waited for Jake to draw his combat knife, they counted down from three; the trio then pushed with a force unforeseen by the dead, causing the rotten corpses to stumble backward, and allowing a three-foot-wide window for Jake and Danny to slip through.
On the other side, the two quickly caught the attention of the walkers that remained standing and roused the ones that tumbled back onto the pavement. Striding forward to the first in his path, Jake kicked the knee of the corpse and drove his blade through its bottom jaw at an angle, separating the brainstem.
“Ew, ew, ew,” Danny mumbled as he replicated the act and inflicted a particularly bloody wound on what must have been a fresher walker, resulting in the same toppled corpse as Jake’s, but with his hand getting covered in nasty-smelling blood.
Maria’s expression grew concerned when one of the six remaining walkers (two of which were still crawling, unable to climb to their feet) got too close to Danny for her own comfort. She left her post at the gate to impel the back of the walker’s head, causing Danny to look at her with brief surprise before he shot a small, appreciative nod.
Dispatching the other five walkers was easy, all considering, between the three of them. It was difficult to keep a hold on the grip of their knives when the corpses fell, but even that was hardly a hindrance. The trio of Jake, Maria and Danny were stood among the bodies, breathing heavy, but didn’t even have the time to break a sweat.
The Zombies played in the red pickup truck to distract from the deathly silence. Fortunately, windows up, the sound didn’t leave the cabin.
The backroad they drove on caused the truck to bounce, and the constant sound of crunching gravel emanated from the below chassis. Jake steered with a frown on his face, feeling a sense of disquiet as they neared their destination. Maria stared out the passenger’s side window at Lake Casa Blanca. And Danny sat on the on the center console (since it was a two-seater) and held tightly to the armrests, trying to not hit his head on the roof when the vehicle bounced.
“Jesus!” Danny exclaimed suddenly when they unexpected rock, launching him half an inch into the air. “I don’t remember it being this goddamn bumpy.”
“The heavy rainfall from last spring must’ve done a number on the road,” Jake concluded. He shook his head disappointedly. “These gray clouds could mean more flooding. They’ve been on the horizon for a day and we woke to them overhead. I’m surprised we haven’t had some rain.”
“Same,” Maria agreed. “How high do you think the Rio Grande will get this time? Danny and I, we put a marker there last time.”
“It’s already started to swell, according to Josie,” Jake said.
“Anyway.” Danny licked his lips nervously. “So, what are going to say to him, this guy?”
Jake shrugged. “We’ve left them alone for a while. It’s time we say something.”
“But what will that be?” Danny persisted. “I don’t like the fact that we’re going in without a game plan. At the very least a topic.”
“Are you afraid of small talk?” Maria said, smiling.
“No,” he replied a little too quickly. “I’m just not comfort going to the house of a guy who has a sniper rifle that could kill any of us from a quarter mile away.”
Jake shrugged once more. “The guy saved my life, Danny. Besides, you said it yourself, he has a nice dog.”
“After hearing about how he shot Zafir from a really long distance, I’ve decided that probably isn’t the best judge of character,” Danny replied.
Maria frowned. “He saved Jake.”
“Think about it, though, the guy could have done the same to Jake if he was holding Zafir at gunpoint.” Jake looked at him for a second, found the point Danny was trying to make, but quickly returned to the road. “Just-- Let’s just not go in trusting whoever this person is. They could be ever dangerous.”
Jake nodded. “Of course.”
Maria let out a sigh. “Let’s just hope the dog’s attitude is a good example of the master’s.”
The red pickup truck grinded the gravel beneath the tires as it came to a full stop in front of the red house. It was two-story, shrouded by trees, vines climbed the chain link fence. The line of six houses was hidden from all angles, even from the waterfront.
As the three left the vehicle, Jake turned the volume of the stereo almost all the way down, until it was just a small whisper. He looked towards the house, at the barred windows, and felt a sense of foreboding worry. What Danny said didn’t just have a grain of truth; it had a handful.
“Let’s get on with this,” Jake said, not letting his fear get the best of him, or even allow it to show on up on his expression. He had a good poker face. While approaching the porch, his perception felt heightened to the point that the yellow and orange leaves quivering in the wind made him suspicious. Like they were watching him walk down the concrete path.
A thought graced his mind, causing him to feel the sense of dread. What did he last say to Josie? It took a few seconds of concentration, in which he ignored his surroundings while he kept inching forward. ‘Bye, Josie,’ he remembered. That was it. His last words to her.
Not very poetic, he thought. Eh, it was simplistic at the very least.
The duo arrived at the porch and Maria passed Danny on her way to the front door, touching his arm to reassure herself and him. Jake gave permission with a nod and she knocked three times on the mahogany door while he let his hand hover near his holster.
After a few moments of uninterrupted silence, Maria knocked another few times. She finally pressed her ear to the door, sparking disapproving, but more so worried expressions from Jake and Danny. Maria listened carefully to sounds that pierced the trick door, hearing the house creaking subtly in the wind.
Three more times, she knocked. She listened again and, at last, heard the sound of an animal stirring while what appeared to be a human followed it. “The dog and its master are coming,” she murmured while backing a few steps away from the door.
The door’s lock clicked and there was a sliding sound as the person inside pulled a bolt. Slowly, it fell open enough to allow a dog to force its way outside. While Jake kept his eyes on the door, Maria knelt to pet the dog.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s a pussy,” a man muttered as he looked out, not passing the threshold of the doorway. He appeared to be in his very early twenties, had short black hair and patchy stubble. He wore a tight black t-shirt that showcased his defined muscles, cargo pants, a belt with a large sheath attached to it from which the hilt of a machete protruded, and a pair of combat boots.
The man surveyed them with his eyes for a few prolonged seconds before Jake finally spoke up. “Hello,” he said, eying the stranger with a great level of a suspicion. “You’re the sniper who killed the man on the bridge eight months ago, right?”
“Yeaaah,” he replied slowly. “Who’s asking?”
“Jake, Danny, Maria,” Jake introduced, inclining his head towards his two companions respectively.
The man suddenly seemed to be caught off guard. “Maria?” he repeated. “Maria... Espinosa?”
Maria froze and locked eyes with the stranger who knew her name. “Yes,” she said, rising from the overzealous canine. “Who-- Who are you? Do I know you?”
“It’s Ash, remember?” He frowned. “Don’t you remember me?”
Maria’s eyes widened and she began to crack a smile. “Asher Lombardi.” She stabbed him with a finger in a friendly way. “You motherfucker. Where have you been?”
“All over the place,” he replied. “My dad was in the military, you know. I was sort of following in his footsteps when, BOOM, shit happened. I came back here since it was the only place I knew well, had friends -- and speaking of, where’s Christian? Is he okay?”
“Christian…” Jake mumbled while rubbing his face disappointedly. “He died on our way here. He was bitten… fading in and out of consciousness...” At that moment, Jake felt the sting of guilt. “He’s dead now.”
“Shit,” Asher muttered, clearly upset with the revelation. “But you’re okay, right?” he questioned, directing his attention towards Maria again. “You’re alright, right?”
She managed a nod. “I’m fine. Better than ever, really.” She turned back and looked in the general direction of the safe-zone. “It’s a fucking blessing to have a stable community.” Maria jumped back towards Asher. “You’ve gotta join us. That’s why we’re here. We’re extending an invitation of sorts.”
Asher licked his lips and looked over the three, letting his vision fall on Danny. “What about you? What do you have to say about your community?”
“It’s the only remnant of civilization for miles upon miles,” he answered. “I’d say that’s something.”
“Yeah.” Asher nodded. He flashed a smile towards Maria and his expression became serious when turning to Jake. “Consider me an honorary member, then. I watched both the safe-zones rise and fall, so I’m not too comfortable with it right now. I also like it here, and would rather stay here.”
“That’s fine,” Jake replied. “In fact, it’s ideal.”
Asher narrowed his eyes. “How so?”
“How do you feel about company, Ash?” Jake asked.
“The same way I feel about being called ‘Ash’.” He tilted his head. “It depends on the person.”
To be continued...
The gosh darn fantastic dog is back!
Cool, I'd like to see.
Awesome chapter! I loved it!
Great chapter!! Great its back!
That was a great chapter
I already suspected the sniper to be Christian's old friend Asher from that flashback a while ago, so I'm glad to see that I was right here and that he is apparently a good guy. Now all that is left is giving the fantastic dog a name. I think they will be good additions to the community. I also really like the dynamic between Maria and Danny, looks like they became quite good friends during this timeskip. Also, even in parts where they have no scenes together, the relationship between Josie and Jake still continues to be just adorable. Even when he is in potentially lethal danger, he still has to think of her and how crappy his last words to her had been. I am not ready for the heartbreaking feels that will come out of this sooner or later.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (Part 6)
Eight Months Later
Jerry Stewart
He managed a nod. “He needs to know. I can’t put it off any longer. I can’t keep it from him any longer in good conscience.” Jerry looked at the flight of stairs in the corner of the room and grimaced. “I’m going to tell him the truth.”
Atlanta frowned, following his stare to the stairs, and shook her head. “He’s going to be mad, Jerry. Really confused, angry at you. Do you really want that?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he repeated sterner this time.
She sighed. “At least wait for him to wake up on his own.”
“Of course.” Jerry hesitantly found a seat on the couch and crossed his legs. Atlanta then sat next to him.
He rubbed his temple for a brief second before he found the scar and caressed it. “Sometimes I wake up, I feel like I’ve just been shot in the head again, I breathe heavily for a few seconds, groping at this little shit”- he jabbed at his head with an annoyed finger -”until I realize I’m in my bed, fine. It happens every once and awhile. It fucks with me.”
“I’m sorry. That must seriously suck,” Atlanta said. “Ashley dealt with the same thing for a while. Still happens. Almost at random, it seems.” She let out a long sigh and brought her leg up on the couch. “Sometimes it’s hard to sleep. All of us here, we don’t sleep like we used to. Honestly, though, I’m afraid of settling in after what happened at Harvest Hills. Just some voice, I guess, in the back of my head that tells me not to get comfortable.”
Jerry nodded. “I have that voice, too.”
“I think we all do,” Atlanta said.
He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I just want it to shut the fuck up and let me live like I used to.”
“What were you before, anyway?” she questioned. “I don’t think we’ve ever sat down and talked about this kind of stuff before. ‘What we were before’.”
He sat back up and let out a sigh mixed with a small chuckle. “Well, I already mentioned that I was an asshole. Not a self-preserving asshole like I was early on; just an asshole-asshole.” He found himself smiling, but felt embarrassed admitting it. “I was a womanizer.”
“Seriously?” She laughed and shook her head with disbelief.
“What?” Jerry sat up straighter. “I was.”
“Yeah, right.” She sighed, still smiling. “How many women did you sleep with, then?”
“I was an asshole. I didn’t keep count like some dickwad.” He laughed. Stopping suddenly, he realized it felt strange to laugh.
“But you never met someone you liked?” Atlanta went on “Like, actually fancy someone. I mean, Mrs. Stewart material.”
He shrugged, taking on a much more mellow demeanor. “There were a few. Never worked out in the end.”
“What about your family?” she asked.
“I don’t like thinking about them, honestly.” He sighed deeply. “I mean, they’re all the way up in Virginia. And there’s, what, 300 billion people in America? The likelihood they survived is next to nil-- No—lower than nil, even.”
“Yeah.” She frowned. “I’m sorry for bringing that up.”
“Hey, hey, don’t sweat it.” Jerry chuckled again. “You know something? I used to hunt game. I’m an expert with a rifle. I want to start contributing again, too. I could hunt. I could--” he stopped, lowering his eyes. “I could teach--”
Atlanta noticed his face suddenly darken. “What’s wrong?”
“Did I ever tell you, or anyone for that matter, what Santiago was wanting from me so badly?” He realized his hands were forming fists and quickly tried to relax, to no avail. “He just wanted me to show how to use a rifle. Of course, I said no. And that lead him to his death.”
“Jerry don’t--” Atlanta began, but was cut off.
“My. Fucking. Fault.” He rose abruptly. “I don’t deserve this -- some moment of calmness -- I don’t deserve it. I don’t know why I thought I did...” Jerry started walking towards the sliding door before he stopped. Atlanta was next to him when he repeated once more: “I’m going to tell him the truth... soon.”
“Jerry don’t be so fucking hard on yourself. It wasn’t all your fault--” Atlanta stopped and massaged her temple with frustration.
“It’s my fault…” he muttered.
“It’s not your fucking fault!” she yelled at him. “Stop torturing yourself like this! It’s painful for me to see you like this, for Ashley and Jake -- for Josie. Jerry, you’re not to blame for all that happened to us.”
“You know, Atlanta, you just don’t know.” He back up to the glass door. “You just don’t know.” Jerry pulled the sliding door open and, striding quickly across the lawn, pushed himself through the gate and the metal sheet until he was standing in the alleyway between all of the houses, and the yards, and orange trees, and then he just ran -- and he sort of lost himself.
Jerry stood over a dead corpse and felt he should be contemplating something, anything; but he found that he was just staring at it. Rotting, there in the street, it looked pitiful. It seemed unrestful and -- while dead, completely dead -- it looked like it wasn’t ready for its untimely fate.
Maybe he was actually contemplating something. It didn’t feel like it to him. To him, he was just looking at a dead guy who died in a very undignified position that almost made him look like he was trying to replicate an Egyptian dance.
The sound of a vehicle moving shook him from the trance the corpse so strangely inflicted. He instinctively jumped over a short, picket fence and hunkered down with the overgrown plants. Jerry watched as a jeep of a dull color drove towards a peculiar location, before its driver parked and abandoned it with two other passengers.
At the distance he was watching, all of them looked oddly familiar. Two of them were short and female, and the third was a male teen. One of the women, who had skin the shade of chocolate, pulled down their muted orange hoodie to reveal very short dreadlocks and a scowl as she scanned their vicinity with her prying eyes.
“Huh.” He stole another look and watched as the group walked around the corner, in the general direction of the safe zone's northern gate. Jerry rolled onto his back and massaged his forehead again, lying in the grass. “Well.”
Ashley Baker
Bridge Two was cold, Josephine could attest to the fact that Bridge One was just as cold.
Upon Ashley’s arrival, she and the night guard switched places. She now wore a thick black jacket passed on to her out of pity and carried the slick, black M4A1 Carbine with a tactical flashlight attachment used by the bridge guards to scan the water. The walkers never got to either side of the bridge on any of the bridges. They occasionally killed the walkers that floated down the Rio Grande from about twenty feet away from the water, atop the bridge.
The cold nip at her bare fingers and she shoved them in the jacket’s pockets while letting the Carbine hang from her neck by a line that also passed under her shoulder.
A voice came in over the radio with a crackle that persisted throughout their speech. “There’s a body coming towards you. I missed it with the damn catch,” Josephine said from about a thousand feet up the river.
Ashley reluctantly removed her hands from her pockets and grabbed the walkie-talkie. She rushed towards the railing of the bridge while taking a more prominent grip on her carbine to keep it from bouncing freely. She leaned over and saw a clump of something that stood out in the gray-shaded water.
She pressed down a button. “I see it.”
Returning the walkie-talkie to its place on her belt, she sat the carbine by the railing and went to pick up the catch pole.
The catch pole laid on the pavement by the railing. It was reminiscent of what dog catchers used to snatch dogs. They shared the noose-like loop of rope and slender pole. The difference between them was the fact that the ones they used were incredibly long so they could reach the water far below. It was awkward to move, difficult to manage, but Ashley was able to set it in body’s path with relative ease.
She waited for a little under half a minute, adjusting the position of the pole when it became obvious that the body would pass by it, and it soon reached her. It was completely motionless until the loop went tight around its neck. Then what was revealed to be a walker struggled weakly against the pull of the water.
Ashley leaned further over the railing to get a look at the walker’s face as it was pushed under the bridge by the river. She got a good image of it, even with the water splashing over it. Its face was mutilated to the point that it look liked a pile of gore, almost unrecognizable as once human.
Ashley unwrapped the rope tied to her end of the catch pole to let the walker float downstream. It didn’t release as the rope loosened. Realizing the walker had been entangled, she struggled to grab the walkie-talkie. “Josie, it’s caught in the rope! I’m gonna need some help!”
The crackly voice of Josephine emanated: ”Oh, shit. I’m too far away. Radio the gate guard for some help.”
“Alright.” Ashley pushed a small switch and changed to a different frequency. “This is Ashley on Bridge Two. A walker is tangled in the rope and won’t get the fuck off.”
She waited a few prolonged seconds for an answer.
”This is Tommy, filling in for Jake’s shift,” the voice said. ”I’ve got a problem myself, and was actually about to radio either one of you for help—we’ve got three strangers approaching the gate.”
She cursed loudly, then returned the walkie-talkie to her lips. “If I don’t do something it’s going to take the whole pole. I’m cutting the rope.”
”Whatever,” Tommy said, sounding stressed. “Get over here quickly—they’re smiling at me and it’s making me uneasy.”
“I get it. I’ll be there soon.” She huffed a tired breath as she returned the walkie-talkie to her belt, replacing it with a knife and pulling the pole closer to her chest. She started sawing through the rope with the serrated edge of the blade. She braced herself as it snapped and watched dishearted as the walker resumed its course down the river with the rope following in its trail.
She switched the frequency to speak with Josephine. “It’s been taken care of,” Ashley informed. “Tommy’s apparently manning the gate in Jake’s absence. He said there were people approaching him. I’m going over to help.”
”’New people’?” she repeated. Her tone sounded concerned, but more so curious.
“Apparently. I’ll tell you all about when I get back. Over and out.” Ashley returned the walkie-talkie to her belt, awkwardly laid the pole on the bridge and held her carbine as she ran down the northern end of the bridge.
Her arrival at the northern gate was greeted by Tommy turning to look at her from the left platform. The platform was made of wood and raised about a meter off the ground, and it had a twin on the right side of the gate. He stood atop it with an M16 hanging from his shoulder, and a six shot revolver on one side of his belt and a machete on the other.
Tommy was Caucasian. He had a full beard of the same shade of dark brown as his short hair. He wore dark blue jeans and a loose-fitting, plaid button-up with the sleeves rolled up past his forearms. And he had brown eyes with he had dark circles beneath them.
“Ashley.” He tossed her a large duffle bag, which she caught, and inclined his head towards the gate. “Open it up and confiscate their weapons. I’ll keep an eye on them from up here.”
Ashley nodded nervously and shoved the empty duffle bag under her arm as she approached the center of the gate and began the process of drawing back the bolts. She let one hand rest on the carbine’s grip, mostly for comfort and used the other to gently push one of the gate side open.
Lo and behold: the group of three were milling around the entrance with little to do until the gate opened. One, an adult woman, was investigating the corpses that were moved to one side from a distance while two teenagers climbed to their feet from where they sat when Ashley stepped through. Their sudden movement would have normally startled her but the two were recognizable, and that distracted her.
“Ashley!” the girl shouted. Remembering the armed guard atop the gate before running to embrace her, she froze and allowed the boy to stand next to her. “It’s us, Ashley—Lindsay and Keith.”
It took a second to register; there was some kind of disbelief in Ashley’s eyes. She took in their new appearance: Lindsay had the same blond, curly hair as before, only now it looked very dirty. Likewise, her blue jeans, gray jacket and the blue t-shirt she wore underneath were worse for wear. She and Keith shared a tired demeanor. Keith wore jeans and a black jacket that was zipped up. His short brown hair was parted hastily to one side.
“Holy shit,” Ashley murmured. She immediately grabbed the walkie-talkie from her belt, letting the duffle bag fall to the ground by accident, and held the button to speak with Josephine. “You’re not going to believe this.”
The woman who was idling on the sidelines crossed her arms and approached the reunion, and asked, “Is there a man named Jerry Stewart with you? My name is Sasha. I've been looking for him... for a very long time.”
End of Chapter Eleven
Anadel - Young Fools
Oh dear God.
So I was smiling when I saw this:
I was kind of happy at this, and thinking back I knew why he didn't mention Sasha.
My God once I saw shade of chocolate I flipped out. The only way I think I can describe how Jerry and I were is this gif:
Jerry, such bad timing. Such bad timing. Such, such, bad timing.
Haha! Lindsay and Keith are back! And so is Sasha! Jerry seems a little worse for wear though.
I am not sure if this is good for Jerry or if he is completely fucked now... If Sasha is like I expect her to be, then it's probably a mixture of both. For some reason I am already pretty hyped for her, but I am also worried for Jerry's health. It was also great to see Lindsay and Keith again, I'm interested to see how they will react to the developments, after all that happened. I guess Keith's reaction to Zafir's death and Lindsay's reaction to Trevor's death will also be interesting. In any way, I am super excited for the next chapter
Updates:
I said I would share a picture of the armor after Halloween, and I will, but the image hosting website I use (which is Imgur) is currently acting up and won't load. I'll try again in a little while. For now, I'd just like to say I'm working on the new part for chapter twelve and am figuring out what is going to happen on the fly (I plan pretty vaguely most of the time). Hopefully my writing will pick up pace soon. Anyway, have a good day!
Thanks you two bro
.
Alright, it finally loaded!
For those curious, this is the Mark V armor from Halo 4, and it was made using Pepakura.
Chapter Twelve: Blissful Among the Scary Things (Part 1)
“Twenty-two cans of pineapple… about 280 calories per can… 6160 total.” The man turned the can to look at the bright, colorful picture on the label and he sighed distastefully while he returned it to the shelf to sit with its fellow cans of pineapple. He wrote what he had just said down on a clipboard and moved onto adding everything in the room up.
The total amount of calories in storage was about 2784210. With fifty-eight people in the community, rounding the amount of calories needed daily per person to 1000, the storeroom would be empty in sooner than forty-eight days. The scavengers were bringing in whatever they could find, and over the course of a week they found about a few days worth of food collectively -- the majority of which being inedible -- that now gave them about an extra week. The gardens in the southern hub brought roughly 70 pounds of food in pre week for the previous few weeks, and that wouldn’t sustain a group of fifty-eight for long on its own.
The man chewed the end of his pencil and muttered to himself while he shook his head, “In about two months… we’ll be fucked. We’ll be starving well before winter is over.”
He began reading their log from the last inspection again for what seemed like the fourth time. The records didn’t indicate any inconsistency and it was starting to make the man’s head hurt. His numbers were right. The revelation was hitting him. He took a seat at a nearby desk and massaged his temples. “We’re fucked.”
Jerry Stewart
Jerry sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the four graves. One belonged to Jordan, one to Clarice, and one to Zafir. The fourth was his own, but residing within it was the corpse of a someone else entirely. He saw all three of the legitimate graves as his enemies at one point or another; it was all faded now, though, like it didn’t matter anymore. They were now just a memory, like so many others.
The thought of lying deep in the cool earth seemed pleasant. Not dead, just asleep; just a deep sleep where even the nightmares wouldn’t be able to bother him. In that instant, he envied his counterpart.
“We should probably go back,” Stephen said. He stood at the corner of the farmhouse with his arms crossed. “They know you’re missing, you realize that, right? Probably looking for you this very second—”
“I know,” Jerry managed in a low tone. He stood up from the ground and didn’t bother dusting off the dirt his jeans had attracted. “Sasha… she’s here now. It changes things.”
“I doubt that’s your only reason for running away.” Stephen tilted his head and looked at Jerry as if he was staring through his soul. “You’re afraid of something else.”
“Let’s just go somewhere else, okay?” Jerry walked past Stephen and scanned the horizon of dark storm clouds, shaking his head. “Like resurrection could somehow make things right.”
“You really think they’d keep the fact that you’re alive from her?”
“I don’t know.” Jerry looked at his feet, feeling ashamed. “In a way, I hope so.”
“Why would you say that?” he questioned.
Jerry chuckled. “I’m fucking murderer, for starter’s. But her arrival didn’t change things -- it’s making me think, I guess, would she really know me anymore? Would I know her, even?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“But what if I’m right?” Jerry looked at Stephen for guidance. “What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me after she finds out what I’ve done? Or I find out she’s got a secret that would… make me look at her differently?”
“Only one way to find out,” Stephen repeated.
Jerry sighed, nodded in reluctant agreement, and repeated: “Only one way to find out.”
There was a sound that echoed from far behind Jerry. He turned to look at it and saw a walker stumbling forward, in the field behind the farmhouse. The noise it made were hard to hear from across the distance. It was unmistakable, though, as the grunt-like gargling of the corpse.
Some clicked inside Jerry, and he completely stood still, watching as it inched closer. He wasn’t scared. More so, he was curious. As the walker neared, Jerry stayed his ground and watched Stephen from the corner of his eye. Stephen didn’t seem nervous.
The walker was several meters away and it had a noticeable stench of rotting flesh from even that distance. The smell itself triggered a gagging reflex and, while he covered his mouth and nose with his forearm, Jerry decided it was time to leave. He brought the barrel of his pistol to the forehead of the walker as it reached him after its pointless trek across the field, and he applied gentle pressure to the trigger. It collapsed into the dirt, accompanied by the gunshot, its dark blood peppering the ground behind it.
“We’re in hell,” Jerry mumbled under his breath as he holstered his pistol and walked around the corner of the farmhouse. Stephen followed behind him, frowning. “How long do you think it’ll be until it’s just them? A few years? Maybe decade to get the stubborn ones?”
“I think you’re underestimating humanity,” Stephen said although he sounded just as hopeless.
They walked down the long, gravel driveway. Jerry watched his own feet as they continued. “I bet we’ll all be dead in a decade. There’s one consolation...”
Stephen looked at him. “And what’s that?”
“They’ll rot slowly.” Jerry looked down the road as they reached the end of the driveway. He breathed in deeply with his eyes closed and exhaled, looking at the horizons. “I won’t rot. I’ll burn. I need to make a will or something, so they know to cremate me. Gotta say how I want to be dealt with, too, since I don’t want Sasha to put my urn on a shelve.”
Stephen chuckled softly. “Where would you want your ashes to be spread?”
“I don’t know.” Jerry found that he was smiling slightly and sighed, erasing his smile completely. “Somewhere pleasant.”
“So…” Stephen had his hands in his pockets as they started back towards Laredo. “Are you going to talk to her?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
There was a sudden clap of thunder and the two looked skywards. Immediately, rain started pouring down and the wind began to pick up speed.
“We should get back before we get soaked,” Stephen advised.
Jerry shook his head. “It’s about a ten miles away. It’ll take us an hour at the very least. We’ll be soaked to the bone. We can hang out in the farmhouse until it passes.”
“Jake, Josephine and the others: they could very well be out looking for you.” Stephen gave him a serious look and once again, it felt like he was looking through Jerry’s soul. “They could get hurt in this weather.”
[Make the long, ten-or-so mile run back to Laredo.]
[Take shelter in the farmhouse.]
[Make the long, ten-or-so mile run back to Laredo.] No one should be out, so that shouldn't be an issue. Jerry is afraid Sasha won't accept him? That's....interesting.
no wait I'm not. Liquid and quality had some good points. [Make the long, ten-or-so mile run back to Laredo.]
Dude, that is awesome.