S5Ep5 “Self-help” – S5Ep7 “Crossed"
Tags: s5 of twd, language, trauma, references to sadism?, violence
Summary: Eugene tells the truth about not having shit of a clue about a possible cure. Shit hits the fan.
A/N: casually finished this at 2am. Worked on it a couple of days ago in between breaks of preparing material for on of my ESL groups.
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During our little bus trip, I stay with Tara, not wanting to third-wheel either of the lovey-dovey couples we’re travelling with. We chat, she tells me stories about girls she liked and a couple of girlfriends, and I tell her some of my non-straight friends’ stories.
“So anyway, he had already come out to three of us, but Kim was missing so we came up with a plan for him to come out at her.” I chuckle at the memory; Kim could be so thick at times. “We called her over and got him to get in the closet then, when she came in the room where the rest of us were waiting, we told her Johnny had something important to tell her.” I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing at how long it took her to understand. “So me and Cassie call out for Johnnie, right? He comes out of the closet with one of those Hawaiian flowery necklaces – because it was the most colorful thing we could found at the moment – and all four of us are staring at her to see if she got the memo.”
Tara looks at me with a smile on her face, “Did she?”
I shake my head ‘no’ while laughing, “She didn’t! She looked at him and asked, ‘So, what is it? What did you want to tell me?’ Johnny was looking at her, deadpanned while Lilly, Cassie, and me looked at each other, not believing how she didn’t get it. I face-palmed, Cass was slapping a pillow against her face to keep from snapping at her and Lilly was gathering all the patience she lacked to explain to her what the deal was.”
Tara chuckled. “Did she get it after?”
I groan with a smile covering my face, “If only… We had him do it two more times, coming out that is, and we explained her little by little. Like: “Look, he’s inside the closet, right?” and “Now he’s OUT of the closet. Do you get it?” And she would shake her head and ask what the hell we were going on about.”
“That’s…” Tara stopped to look for the right word, not wanting to offend MacKenzie´s (deceased) friend.
“Yeah?” I urge her with a smirk.
Tara huffs. “I’d probably had yelled at her that he was gay”, she says defeated.
I burst out laughing, picturing her snapping at Kimmy. I wouldn’t blame her; I felt the same when it happened back when we were 16.
“We gave up after that. Figured she wouldn’t get it, so we decided to hang and watch movies for the rest of the day”, I continue with the story. “It was funny, we laughed about if for several years after it happened. She figured it out, sort of, the next day. She asked Cassie and me during lunch if John was gay. We just looked at her with a bored-out expression and said ‘yes’.”
“She sounds like a fun person to be around. Did you remain friends for long?”
I look through the light towards Tara and give her a wide grin. “Yeah… Not to the level as in high school but yeah. My high school friends were my life friends. It was like a weird, multi-cultural family”, I say chuckling. “We remained friends after it all ended and kept in contact. We’d meet up every now and then if college wasn’t keeping us with our nose stuck in a book. Job, special someone, house, all that grownup crap. We’d talk about it and catch up with what was going on in the others life.”
“Lucky you” she scoffs, “All ‘friends’ I had weren’t that keen in keeping in touch.”
I nudge her side and give her a goofy grin. “That’s cool.” I swing my arm around her shoulder and shake her softly, “Cause now you got us. I don’t know about you, but I think being a part of this weird fucking family is better than most so called friends most had before.”
She smiles at me and chuckles softly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She leans against my side, and I lean against hers’, side-hugging her.
I nudge her softly and lean towards her ear, “By the way, I think someone has a little crush on you.”
She pulls away and looks at me with inquisitive eyes.
I nod my head, grinning to myself.
She shakes her head, smiling, “No. There’s no way…”
“Oh please!” I say laughing. I lean in closer and whisper, “He’s been looking at you for so long now that if I saw him doing it in the streets, I would’ve had called the cops on ‘im.”
Tara pushes me away playfully, chuckling. I grin and chuckle next to her.
I feel…lighter. It’s been a while since I talked about my friends. I don’t like remembering because it hurts, but I don’t want to forget. Forgetting them also means forgetting me and-and I liked who I was. Who I used to be. Talking about the past, about the good times, it feels right. Nice, even.
“It’s getting a little messy for you.”
Our attention is diverted to the front where Rosita is playing with Abraham’s hair.
“Getting ready for retirement. It lightens the grooming standards. I’m thinking ‘bout becoming a plumber or a shepherd or something.”
“You ain’t no shepherd right now, Abraham. Eyes on the prize.”
“Damn right. That’s my girl.”
It’s almost disgustingly sweet how easy they flirt with each other. Kinda cute when you forget the world we live in.
“Maybe I’ll let ya shave me down all over. Dolphin smooth.”
Tara chuckles at my reaction before turning to Eugene, teasing him about joining the redhead in getting a haircut. He makes some references to the bible, the guy with Delilah, I think – whatever his name was. But his face is serious almost-
Tara is sweet. She looks after the others in the group, seems to have a soft spot for kids and from what I’ve heard, she’s loyal to the Rhee’s after Glenn saved her life. She’s a nice person and she’s quite open about it. It’s odd to see that after everything’s that happened.
“Nope… Yes, that and tomorrow. And I’m thinking about that preacher. What he did.”
“Ya mean screwing all those people over,” I scoff.
Tara looks at me like I’ve offended her while Maggie and Glenn look over at me. Maggie shakes her head softly.
Okay, maybe it was out of line, but it didn’t make it any less true.
My walls go up in an instant. I dismiss her worry with an amused scoff, “Me?”
She nods. “That was a little rude man. You know he’s scared.”
“Everyone’s scared”, I snap back immediately. “It just so happens that we don’t make it about ourselves.”
A frown tugs her dark eyebrows, her beady eyes glistening with kindness and concern.
We both turn our attention to Maggie. She’s turned in her seat to question ‘the man who will save humanity’.
“After you get in that terminal and you do what you have to do?”
There’s a moment silence, then, “Depends on a number of factors including density of the infected around target sites worldwide.”
I frown at the implication that whatever cure this guy has in mind, can apparently be launched in a missile and work. Is he talking about a cure used like some Hollywood bioweapon?
“Target sites. We’re talking missiles?”
The big man freezes. “That’s classified.”
I give him a raised eyebrow for that pathetic excuse.
“We’re driving to a military base or whatever for you to reveal secrets concerning worldwide security on some infection no one knows how it started and you think there’s such a thing as ‘classified?” I deadpan.
Glenn nods, “I thought we were past that.”
“Then the cure works and there’s no need to keep it secret.”
“Will secrets matter then?”
“They might”, he answers Glenn. Then turns to me and Tara, “Anyway, the speed with which things normalize depend on a number of factors including worldwide weather patterns which were modeled without the assumption that cars, planes, boats and trains wouldn’t borne hydrocarbons into the atmosphere for this long.”
His eyes are back on the Rhees, “Changes the game quite a bit when it comes to air transmissible pathogens.”
The couple blinks at the man.
A laugh escapes me at the sudden and ridiculous change of subject.
“And no one is taking scissor or clipper to it anytime soon. You hear me, Ms. Espinoza?”
Rosita laughs from in front of us, “Yes, loud and clear.”
Everyone is laughing, joking about Eugene’s seriousness over his ridiculous haircut while I’m left wondering about the damn weather patterns, missile launching a cure worldwide, and how much hydrocarbons must’ve been in out atmosphere before in contrast to the present.
“The smartest man I ever met happened to love my hair. My old boss, T. Brook Ellis, the director of the human genome.”
I’m actually impressed by that statement.
“He said my hair made me look like, and I quote, ‘a fun guy’. Which I am”
“Sure buddy”, I mutter under my breath. Which earns me an elbow on my side thanks to Tara.
Sansón! That was the guy from the bible’s name!
All of a sudden, we’re zigzagging. We can’t see shit cuz there’s smoke coming out the front of the bus and then we’re flying.
My head is pounding. The familiar tugging behind the back of my head tells me that I’m dizzy. This can’t be good.
I blink, a bunch of spots clouding my vision.
“Hey, hey.” Tara tugs my shoulders, facing her, “Are you okay?”
Her eyes grow wide for a second. “Shit. Guys, she’s bleeding.”
I lazily swat her hand away while struggling to get up. “ ‘m fine. I’m fine.”
Her hand is immediately on my back, supporting.
I place a hand on the wall..? The fuck? Oh. Ok, so it’s the floor apparently. The bus turned.
Yeah, that explains the concussion and the body ache.
“The engine’s on -ire. We gotta… out of -ere.”
I frown at the echoey sound. Something is definitely off. Everything feels odd. Like 6 hours of drinking straight odd.
Someone, Gleen by the looks of his short dark hair, is saying something. I can’t understand what he’s saying, but Abraham seems to follow his command. All of a sudden Abraham is hanging like- like some godamned orangutan from god knows what and kicking the door at the back of the bus open. Glenn follows, with Rosita and Maggie in tow.
“Go!” Tara pushes me forward.
I stumble a little, careful not to lose my footing on one of the 90-degree seats. When I step outside, I’m instantly blinded by the bright sun. The moment I flinch backwards; my whole body is following suit.
“Shit. Mac, you okay?”, Maggie calls out from where she’s fighting a walker.
I wave her off, shaking my head to focus. Bad idea. A wave of nausea hits me. I swallow the gag down and push forward.
A walker is coming at me, arms raised. I step to the side and grab his arm, pulling him and myself closer, where I stab him on the back of his head.
It’s like the goddamn ground is calling for me, the way I feel myself go to the side. The next walker I take out, I stab on the forehead. His limbs tangle with mine and I fall forward with him. The breath of its rotting corpse has me gagging again.
I kick him off and drag myself to the side of the road.
A hand grazes my back as I try not to heave. My arm immediately goes out, knife in hand.
“Woah, woah. Easy there,” Glenn dodges before coming to join me again. “Hey. How you feeling?”
He flinches. “Shit. Maggie look for some bandages!”, he calls over his shoulder then turns back to help me stand up. “You got a nasty cut on your forehead. Hopefully, it’s not too deep.”
“First aid kit is in the bus. I see what we got,” Maggie calls back.
I flash him a grin, “Think I can audition for Harry Potter?”
He chuckles at my sorry attempt at humour. “I don’t know how good’s your English accent?”
The smell of oil and gasoline tell me what’s happening before I feel the heat from the flames. The godamned bus is on fire. Fantastic.
Everyone is looking at each other, wondering ‘what now?’
“We’re not stopping,” commands our soulless leader. “We’re rolling on. We find another vehicle down the road… Mission hasn’t changed.”
I groan and stand to my full (short) height.
“Devil’s advocate, nothing more, but we smashed through a soft par. We spend a lot of time rolling things out of the road… Church’s just 15 miles back that wa-“
“No. We don’t stop! We don’t go back! We’re at war and retreat means we lose.”
I’d frown but it hurts when I move my face muscles.
“The road fights back, planes get jacked. You all know that! Now we will get through this because we have to! Every direction is a question.”
Maggie joins us as Abraham finishes his little speech.
Before he can walk off and leave us all behind Glenn rushed over to the big man. “Hey, hey hey. You okay?”
“I’m fit as a damn fiddle!”
Glenn nods. “We are going with you,” he explains calmly. “You are calling this thing. I just need to know if you’re good.”
“Your husband’s a damn saint,” I mutter.
Maggie smiles softly, proudly, at the statement.
Abraham nods before looking at Glenn, “This is how things stop. I can’t afford that right now. The world can’t afford it.”
I hum at how he rushes the last part. Call it projecting, if you like but that, to me, sounds like he’s talking more about himself. And who could blame him!
“Listen, I took a pretty big shot in the sack at that crash. I am stressed and depressed to see that ride die, but if you say that we’re rolling on…I’m good.”
“Alright. Let’s keep on rolling baby!”
Maggie gives me a look, “You sure? You took a big hit on the head. Don’t you want to rest up a little bit an-“
“Maggie, I appreciate your concern but we ain’t doing squat out here with our thumb up our asses.”
Glenn looks them over, all of them before nodding. “We’re rolling on.”
Abraham smiles, grateful for his support. “We’ll rub some dirt on it and walk it off.”
Rosita nods, “We’ll find what we need down the road. Just like we always have. We’ll get a first aid kit and bandage up for you.”
I give her a nod as ‘thank you’.
“I’m not rubbing dirt on anything,” Maggie pipes in with a smile. “And neither are you. Don’t want you getting an infection,” she points an accusatory finger at me.
Hands raised in surrender, I shrug.
“Maybe we can find some bikes,” Tara provides, “Bikes don’t burn.”
The walk took some time, but we made it into some ghost town by nightfall. I had the team Rhee trio constantly asking if I was okay, but after the fifth or seventh ‘I’m fine’ I think they bought it.
We follow Abraham into what seems like an abandoned library, at least judging by the myriad of shelves it looks like one. Everyone goes there own way to check the place, scout for supplies and block the entrances with the aforementioned shelves.
Maggie is on book duty. Tearing pages apart and giving them to Tara for the fire, while also taking out the thread from old books so that Rosita can patch up Abraham and me with it.
“Shit hurts. You try laying still while getting a needle through the temple and a thread on your eye.”
Rosita gives me a look to which I shrug with an awkward smile.
“I can’t imagine the way you must’ve hit the wall to get this cut.”
“Magic of metal buses, I guess. A piece might’ve been loose or somethin’. Raised or angles in a way that just so happened to meet my face when we crashed.”
She huffs, “That’s some luck you got. Nobody else was as hurt as you.”
“Well, not everyone can fight off walkers while dizzy.”
I flinch again at the feeling of the needle piercing my skin and Rosita pinches the skin together to hold it in position. The way the thread feels while slipping through the skin makes a shiver run down my spine. It’s an odd feeling. Reminds me of when I got my wisdom teeth taken out and I could feel the crunch of them getting ripped from my gums.
“I get vertigo if I stand on a chair. Dizziness is part of my everyday life.”
“Careful with that. Don’t want another stupid scar on the same day,” I warn when I see her knife so close to my eye.
She laughs softly before raising it again, “Promise not to cut your face off.”
Next thing I know she’s pulling away and my face feels tight with every slight shift of my brows.
“Why thank you nurse. We done here?”
With a nod she hands me back my knives. “Try not to pull your stitches. Doubt you want to sit through this again.”
I nod, “Not on my list. No.”
Knives back in their rightful places, I stand up. “I’ll call Abraham over.”
10 minutes later MacKenzie was cuddled up against a far end corner of the store, tucked between some shelves and a couple of chairs.
In that same space, in the middle of the room were the Rhees. Maggie was laying on her back, staring at the ceiling with thoughts of their family left at the church swarming her mind. Her husband was laying beside her on his stomach with his arm wrapped around her middle.
“You thinking about them?”, he questioned tiredly.
Glenn gave his wife a gentle squeeze, earning her attention. “Hey.”
When she turned to look at him, he leaned on his forearms to hover over hair and look her in the eye.
“When do we get to have little vacations on bookstore floors?”, he smiled.
She reciprocated before thinking back on their messy little family. “We’re not back there anymore. We’re living for something else, and they don’t get to right now. Even Mac”, she muttered the last part, “She’s different.”
“Well, we did almost die today. And we don’t have a car aaand we’re drinking toilet water,” he reasoned lightheartedly. “Can you blame her?”
The two of them chuckled softly. Eyes connected with one another, the same way they had since they met all those months ago back at the farm.
“It just feels really good having this. Because it’s not about what it was, not last night, it’s all about what’s gonna be.”
“Well, don’t feel guilty about that.”
They exchanged some kisses, comforting one another.
“Besides,” he leaned back down, cuddling against her neck. “You see her talking with Tara?”
Glenn nodded softly against his wife’s neck. “She was smiling. Maybe this is what we need. Something new. A fresh start.”
With a thoughtful hum, Maggie nodded. Looking over her husband’s silky hair, she smiled. He was gentle and patient, so full of understanding and hope. Whatever she did to have met him, she wouldn’t change it for the world. Meeting Gleen Rhee was the ultimate blessing. Her one and only, she knew it. And there wasn’t a single thing that she would change. She could never regret having met – and married – this amazing man.
Glenn flinched slightly at the way MacKenzie jumped when he touched her shoulder to awoken hair. Groggy eyes wide and scanning around as the last remnants of sleep clung to her eyelids.
She hummed, yawning and stretching her limbs to get the blood pumping. Blinking rapidly, she stared at the man in front of her, then their surroundings.
He nodded her over, “How’s your head?”
She grimaced, pushing a chair aside to stand up from the little cove she’d arranged for herself. “Stings like a bitch.”
A slight chuckle escaped the Korean’s lips, amused at her colorful language. He figured it was good that in spite of her change in mood after everything that happened, some things remained the same.
Hand extended forward, he waited for her.
With a once over and huff, she took his hand and pulled herself up. Dusting her pants and brushing her arms of whatever that could’ve been gathering in the old carpet. She gave him a small nod as thanks, then extended her arm forward.
Glenn walked back to the entrance where everyone was gathered with MacKenzie in tow.
“This town isn’t in bad shape.” Maggie pipes in, taking a seat on one of the armchairs by the entrance. “This store wasn’t even touched. Could make a good base here.”
She had to nod at that. There were utterly fucked after what happened yesterday with the bus. They, at least, needed to restock on basic supplies before heading down where the road would take them.
“Spend a last day looking for supplies?”, she proposed.
Rosita shot the idea down. No doubt, by her body language and tone, more in compliance with her lover than with her actual beliefs. Whatever.
Tara then pointed out that they needed water. Whatever they were doing, they’d have to check the nearest river before finding a new vehicle, that was if Abraham cared about getting there alive and well.
The big man himself seemed unconcerned with such matters. He stood up and walked over to the entrance, lifting a piece of cardboard to peek outside.
“Got a vehicle… and it just so happens, it has 500 gallons of water on it.”
MacKenzie stood in the middle of the road, watching through squinted eyes as the others messed around with the truck, checking it out.
The sun was painfully bright. Her head ached, her corneas burned, and her stitched itched. She had no idea what the hell she was doing there. Though, to be fair, she had no idea what she was doing in general. Why was she still here? What was the point of everything? She didn’t know anymore.
Seeing the others do shit and be useful, she pondered. It all felt odd, surreal even. She was here because Abraham asked. Because she had nothing better to do. Because what the hell else were they supposed to do! Everything was done automatically. She felt like some sort of robot, no thoughts, just following commands.
The roar of the engine caught her attention. Then, an amused look at the sound of the burly man laughing in joy.
Not that it lasted long. The motor – or whatever mechanical piece of junk – drowned or something cuz all of the sudden the vehicle stopped.
Groans had her ears perking. First there were the dead coming from out of the fire station, then out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a small group of walkers coming from around the corner.
She took her knife out and charged. Dodge an arm here. Kick a knee there. Stab, stab. And down they went.
Walkers started dropping. Slipping through water and moist cardboard as someone – Eugene, according to her head count – aimed the hose left and right to all the walkers coming at them. Pieces of rotting flesh slipped apart from the aging bone. Bits of muscle and hair flying off at the sheer power of the water aimed at them.
MacKenzie grimaced, stomach churning at the disgusting sight.
“I’ve been to 8 county fairs and 1 goat rodeo, and I’ve never seen anything like that.”
MacKenzie nodded. It was something, alright.
Glenn turns to the redhead, “There’s a goodwill over by the bookstore. It’s pretty blown up but there might be some supplies.” He calls out to the others, “Some dry clothes, maybe?”
MacKenzie was already jogging there before Abraham could finish talking.
Back on the road, nothing could stand in the way of a godamned firetruck.
That was nothing except for the damn truck itself. Much like the morale of certain group members, the truck seemed to have an issue with carrying on and keep on fighting.
Rosita exchanged a glance with Tara who in response exchanged a glance with Glenn at the front of the truck. All of them with a giant question mark on their faces at… whatever the hell MacKenzie was doing laying on the road like Jesus on the cross.
Maggie was talking to Eugene at the back of the truck. Abraham was up fighting with the radiator something and whatnot.
MacKenzie clears her throat as a weird feeling starts sitting at the back of her throat. She attempts to sniff, trying to clear her nose off what she’s feeling. Terrible mistake.
“Woah what the hell is that!”
As soon as Maggie calls out ‘what?’ there’s feel bile rising up Mac’s throat.
“Whatever’s making up that stench, it can’t be nice.”
She sits up. Not wanting to yak all over herself if it comes to that. And by the acrid stench filling her lungs, she just might.
Tara looks around before focusing back on Abraham, “Uh, we’re stopped.”
Rosita glances over at the woman seated on the road, “Hey, you good? Looking a little green.”
MacKenzie nods, trying to dial down the gagging.
Walking about 250m down the road, MacKenzie ends up gagging by the side of the road. Miles upon miles of dead rotting corpses. Walkers and cattle. The stench is- jesus, it’s fucking unbearable. Her eyes sting and stomach hurt at the force with which her whole body heaved forward.
Her surroundings mess into a bug mess of blah blah about Abraham losing his shit over somehow making it through that shitshow of a herd while the others are denying left and right with logical arguments his insane ideas.
She’s the first to start walking back.
The others follow closely, still arguing. Until it shifts from a verbal discussion to a physical one.
“You do not touch! You do not touch this!”
Everyone stands around, completely still, staring at the mullet man.
All of a sudden, through the tension, the shock of Eugene’s confession, laughter can be heard.
Glenn frowns, flashbacks to that time in the woods where she cried to some asshole looters. He hoped to God she was acting. After what she did in the church, after whatever she did in Terminus… He knew. Oh, Glenn fucking knew that MacKenzie was not one to fuck with. He could only hope she wasn’t losing it right now.
“I don’t know how to stop it… I’m not a scientist.”
“Wow.” She says in between laughs. Face flushed from lack of oxygen, “That’s ha! Oh my god, that’s- that’s just fucking precious!”
“Mac”, Glenn scolds quietly.
Rosita shakes her head, “You are a scientist. I’ve seen the things that you can do.”
“I just know things,” he explains.
Glenn looks at him dumbfounded, “You just… know things?”
“I know I’m smarter than most people. I know I’m a very good liar and I know I needed to get to DC.”
MacKenzie can’t help but nod her head in approval. Lying is one hell of a talent. Lest her be a hypocrite for pretending it wasn’t useful, much less necessary more often than not.
“Why?” Maggie asks the million-dollar question.
“Because I do believe that little town holds the strongest possibility for survival. And I do wish to survive. If I could cheat some people into taking me there, well… I just reasoned, then I’d be doing them a solid too. Considering the perilous state of the city of Houston…the state of everything…”
MacKenzie sighs, finally calming down and starts shaking her head.
Rosita’s voice broke, “People died trying to get you here.”
“I’m aware of that.” Eugene affirms. “Stephanie, Warren, Pam, Rex, Roger. Josiah, Dirk and Josephine.”
He sniffs, tears in his eyes, “And Bob.”
“You see, I lost my nerve as we grew closer. For I’m a coward.”
‘Yeah, no shit’, MacKenzie thought.
“And the reality of getting to our destination and disclosing the truth of the matter became some truly frightening shit. So, I took upon myself to slow our roll. I wanted time to finesse things so that when we got there… But at this moment I fully realize that at the moment there are no longer any agreeable options. I was screwed either way.”
The confession sits heavy in everyone’s heart and morale.
“I also lied about T.Brook Ellis liking my hair. I do not know T. Brook Ellis. But I did read one of his books and he seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t blink twice at a Tennesse top hat.”
He sniffs, “Again, I am smarter than you. Now you may wanna leave me here bu-“
And just like that Abraham is on the guy. He hits him once, sending him against the truck’s bumper. Then twice. Tara and Glenn are immediately pulling at him to let go of the dumb smartass. With the third hit, Eugene bounces off the truck and plops like a sack of potatoes unto the road, face first.
A darkness tugs at the corner of MacKenzie’s lips at the violence, morphing her face into something that resembles enjoyment.
Rosita comes in between the big brute and the brains, and hand on her pistol if needed. Abraham walks off and the women tend to the guy’s injuries.
When Glenn comes back from checking that the herd is yet to approach, he finds everyone in different places. His wife is checking on the unconscious genius, Tara is standing by the middle of the truck, and Rosita is at the back, from what he can see. Abraham doesn’t seem to have moved since he kneeled over after knocking Eugene down.
He frowns for a moment. The headcount is off.
Then he sees boot soles wiggling. Hand hovering over his knife he approaches. A heavy sigh leaves his lips when he sees the swaying feet belong to MacKenzie, who’s laying on the grass under the shade of the trees by the side of the road.
Glenn shakes off the feeling he gets at the sight. Her behaviour has been all over the place since they got back together. A part of him can’t help but wonder, what the hell was going on inside her head. He just can’t seem to get a grasp on her, even after all this time of her being with them.
Images of flesh being ripped apart play behind her eyelids. The raw muscle of Pete’s face. The chunks of flesh in Kimmy’s house. The hole in Merle’s wife-beater and the shards impregnated across his chest and in between his organs. The growling head of Hershel staring back at her. The piercing screams, full of agony of those pieces of shit at Terminus.
A smile tugs at the edge of her lips, curving upwards, full of pleasure.
With a shake of his head Glenn walks over the rest, doing his rounds on them all.
Time passes. No clue how long.
MacKenzie is shaken awake by some sort of metallic rattling sound. The remnants of her dream disperse. Images of yellow teeth and void eyes still present, still making her hair stand and eyes search for movement.
Maggie casts her a brief glance. The way she’s seated on the ground, arms hanging over her knees, eyes void. She continues her construction project.
“Sun fever’s bad. We’re already low on water. Don’t want Eugene to-“
“Ya still care ‘bout him?”
Pit in her stomach or not, she turns towards her friend. “You don’t think he deserves it?”
“So have you. We all have. He was scared.”
Unaware of it, MacKenzie grins. “So this doesn’t affect you? Ya don’t care there’s no cure?”
Maggie huffs, shaking her head before looking up at the sky and sighing. Having calmed down, she turns, glaring at her friend.
“Fine. What the hell is wrong with you?”
MacKenzie lifts an amused eyebrow at her tone of voice.
“What the hell happened out there? Tyreese, Carol, You… You’re all quiet. Tyreese can’t stand to see blood. Carol… And You- Just what the hell happened to you?”
All amusement is wiped from the blonde’s face, melting off like the paint of a clown’s face. Eyelids low, mouth pressed, and nose almost snarling, she glares emptily at the brunette.
Maggie’s brow twitches at the sudden change.
Her voice is low, monotone.
The farmer frowns, taken back by the drastic 180. She thinks back on the last time she saw her. The day her world fell apart. The slight glistening of Michonne’s sword against the sun as the Governor raised it moments before decapitating her father. She had been there. Next to him. Then she was at Terminus, clothes tainted red, hands dripping with blood, and crimson splattered across her face.
Maggie sighed. Turning back to her little project, she grabbed the ladder and continued to pull it into position. When the ladder started to slide down while she tried to hang a blanket over it, suddenly a hand grabbed it
The same empty brown eyes were directed on the silver metal, pulling at it without so much as a glance towards the woman in front of her.
Nodding slightly in appreciation, Maggie continued to tug at the blanket. It kept sliding down and falling to the side. Then a hair clip was offered to her. It was flowery shaped and a little small, she noticed. The hand holding it out for her shook slightly, just enough to be noticeable if you’re paying close attention.
“Thanks”, she muttered but received no answer.
MacKenzie just tucked her head and continued to tug at the blanket on her side of the ladder, tugging it in between some of the steps to try and keep it in place.
Maggie used the hair clip to hold the blanket at the top, pressing it to hold together the textile and the metal into position. Now, Eugene would be covered from the sun. All that was left was waiting for him to wake up. Hopefully, alive.
About an hour later Rosita, Tara, and Glenn came marching down the road. Bottles filled with water, food cooked, a new bag and some new equipment in hand, they marched down victoriously. They gave out the water – a bottle each – then divided the fish they cooked, so that everyone could eat a little.
“So, what now?” Tara asked.
Glenn stared at Abraham, who had since left his kneeling position and sipped at the water bottle in his hand with eyes staring ahead, then he looked over at Eugene, who was now in an uptight position, still under the contrapment his wife had come up with and hydrating himself.
With a sigh he looked over to his wife, who immediately offered him her hand.
