From a Whisper to a Scream

"Do you really think what they're saying on the news is true, or it's all just a big hoax?" My friend Fran asked us. I peered over to her as she side-eyed me from the driver's seat. She had one arm hanging out of the car window, the wind blowing her blonde hair out of her face as she drove.

"I'm not sure, I don't know why they would make something like that up though? But, then again they said the virus was spreading rapidly and I don't know a single person that has it," Nadia responded from the back seat.

"I try not to think about it," I answered, holding my head low at the thought of it. The whole idea of a worldwide virus would stress anyone out, but actually thinking about it only raised my anxiety to a point where I couldn't bring myself back down. Fran took notice of my discomfort about the topic, it was the only thing anyone could ever talk about anymore.

"Oh my God, I love this song!" Fran cooed as she turned up the radio. Olivia Rodrigo's latest hit 'Good 4 U' began to play, the only song that played on repeat in anyone's head at the moment.

A smile crept onto my face as we all began to belt out the lyrics, thankful that there was something to distract us from the previous topic. I rolled down my window, sticking my hand out and letting my fingers ride the waves of the wind as we sped down one of the dead back roads to my house. Nadia caught my attention as she leaned forward between the two front seats, holding an invisible microphone in her hand as she sang along.

'Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby

God, I wish that I could do that'

"Fran, look out!" Nadia screeched.

My eyes darted forward. A woman stood in the middle of the road, materializing out of nowhere. Fran jerked the wheel to the right, just missing the woman. Both my hands reached out to brace myself as her foot slammed on the breaks. One pressed against the passenger window and the other on the dashboard. Fran veered left, back onto the road as the car's tires skid across the gravel, finally coming to a halt.

"Did I hit her!?" Fran questioned, both of her hands glued to the wheel. She couldn't bring herself to look over to where the woman was. I could see the whites of her knuckles as they gripped the leather.

"No, you're good, she's still there," Nadia answered.

"Where the fuck did she come from?" I asked, not really expecting an answer. I looked to my left, out of the driver's side window, watching as the woman remained still in the centre of the road. I furrowed my brows as I examined her. Her arms drooped down to her side as her head hung low to the ground like she was having a difficult time holding it up.

"We should go check on her," Nadia suggested as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"What if she's crazy?" Fran said, her eyes finally looking over to the woman she almost hit.

"She's probably just lost. It's easy to get turned around on the trails through here," Nadia reasoned. I remained silent as I continued to study the woman. Something didn't feel right. "Come on," Nadia said, opening her door.

Regardless of the unexplainable feeling, I had in my gut I got out of the car as well, knowing that we had to check to make sure she was okay. I made my way around to the other side of the car, Fran reluctantly emerging from the doorway as I reached her side.

"Hey, I am so sorry. I didn't see you at all," Fran surprisingly called out first, apologizing. The woman remained silent, her eyes remained locked on the ground. She was probably in shock.

"Are you okay? Are you lost? We know these trails pretty well, we can help you get back to your car," I then said, hoping my suggestions would get her talking so we could figure out if she was okay.

We slowly made our way closer to the woman, but once we hit a certain point in the road it's like we all knew to keep our distance here. Finally, the woman's head shot up. I thought she was about to say something like the shock of the near accident was finally subsiding. Her head turned towards us, her face was hard through all of her hair, but when her eyes met mine I knew something wasn't right. Grey, glossed over orbs stared back at me like two marbles placed in the sockets. The skin on her face sunk in, clinging to the bone where it hadn't already blistered. Finally, she raised both of her arms in our direction, a deep, saliva-filled wail coming from deep within her throat.

Fran screamed and we instantly made a break for it back to her car. We couldn't explain what just happened, but we knew we had to get away. It was an instinct. Instead of helping the seemingly injured woman, instead of calling 911, we knew we had to get away as fast as possible. Without knowing it for sure, there was this gut feeling that there was no saving her.

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Waking up was bittersweet, that was the first time I had dreamt about my friends in quite a while. Although the memory wasn't something I wanted to hold onto, it was nice to see their faces again. I sat up from my spot on the couch, feeling well-rested for the first time in days. I could hear Daryl rustling around in the kitchen not trying to be particularly quiet.

"Rise and shine, Red," Daryl said, entering into the living room just as I was trying to slip my boot back onto my injured foot.

I looked up at him, a questioning expression on my face, "You're particularly cheerful this morning," I smiled.

"Found some pig's feet in the back of the cupboard. A white trash brunch," he responded. He then walked over to me, scooping me up from off the couch without warning. I laughed as he lifted me with ease to the kitchen. I threw my arm around the back of his neck as he lightly kicked open the kitchen door and maneuvered my body through. "There you go," he said, placing me down on one of the chairs. He had a spread set out, something for each of us. There were two jars of pigs' feet - I won't be eating that -, two bottles of coke, two cans of corn, and two jars of peanut butter. "Let's eat-"

Just then we could hear the string of cans that Daryl had tied up by the front door begin to clink, signalling that something was there. Daryl's cheerful face dropped as he sprung up and grabbed his crossbow. He turned to me before leaving when I got up with him, "Stay," he ordered, pointing his finger at me before disappearing into the hallway.

I couldn't help my curiosity to get the best of me, I needed to make sure he'd be okay. Just as I reached the doorway he called out, "It's just a damn dog." That immediately got my attention and I swung open the door to take a look. Just as I did Daryl was already shutting the front door again. "Hey, I thought I told you to stay back," he said, walking back to me.

"Yeah, but Daryl, you said there was a dog," I responded, a smile plastering across my face. He looked down at me, a grin creeping up on his face when seeing my excitement. I knew he wanted to stand his ground, but couldn't bring himself to.

"Maybe he'll come back around," he said before leading me back to our breakfast.

We dug into our food, a silence falling over us as we were content for the moment, our stomachs becoming full. My mind began to wander back to my dream, the thought of where my friends might be right now if they were still alive. Nadia had always been resourceful, she was my coworker at the shooting range. She was a lot like me, which made us bond almost instantly. I could see her and her boyfriend making it out of the city in the early stages of the outbreak, being smart about where to go to be at least risk. Francesca, I wasn't too sure about though. We met in elementary school. Our friendship was based on us being opposites, what one lacked the other made up for. She wasn't athletic, let alone even cared about sports, nor was she handy in any sense of the word. But, she was likeable, the most trusting person I've ever met, she got along with everyone. For that reason, I could see her using that to her benefit. Finding a group that couldn't help but want to keep her around for her loyalties alone.

"What are you thinking about?" Daryl asked. I hadn't realized how long I zoned out for.

"You ever think about the people you knew before all of this? Where they might be now?"

Daryl furrowed his brows like the question I had asked was a waste of time, but then he actually thought about it. "No, I haven't."

"Really, you haven't?" I asked, not entirely believing him.

"No." His eyes dropped down from mine, becoming focused on spooning the peanut butter from the jar in his hand. I watched as his whole demeanour changed.

"What?" I questioned, wanting to know what he was thinking about now. He glanced back up at me, his eyes boring into me like he was trying to tell me without actually wanting to say what was on his mind. He shrugged his shoulders. "What?" I asked again.

"I only care about the people I have here with me now," he answered, his eyes not breaking from mine.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat, a question sitting on the edge of my tongue that I couldn't help but ask. "What if I didn't make it out of the prison with you? What if I had stayed with Michonne or my brother? Would I just become another one of those people you don't think about?" I had a hard time keeping eye contact when asking that question, the thought of his answer suffocating.

"No," he flat-out answered, placing his jar of peanut butter down on the table. His eyes didn't stray from my face. There was a long pause. Was a 'no' all that I was getting? Would I just have to make do with knowing that a solid 'no' would keep me from being someone he once knew? "I would be out there looking for you until I found you."

I finally looked back up at him, his expression was firm, sincere. Then the sounds of cans clinking and the dog barking caught our attention. The stray was back again. Daryl's focus broke from mine as he reached for the pig's feet.

"I'm gonna give that mutt one more chance." He unscrewed the lid and threw it on the table before getting up and making his way to the front door. I remained seated, our conversation still weighing heavy on my mind. I wanted to see the dog for myself, but I continued to say his words over and over in my head trying to believe them myself. "Scar!" Daryl's frightened shout caught me off guard, making my heart sink. "Scar!"

I shot up from my chair, grabbing Daryl's crossbow from the counter and limped out to the hallway. I turned the corner to see Daryl's back pressed against the front door, his feet slipping on the hardwood as the walker's arms stuck out at every angle from the crack in the frame. I tossed his crossbow to him before he waved his hand at me. "Run! Run!" he shouted, allowing me to hobble down the hall before he released his weight from the door. I heard two of his arrows being shot before the sound was drowned out by the groans of the walkers. "Scar, pry open a window. Get your shit!"

"I'm not gonna leave you!" I yelled back as I grabbed my knife from the living room. I could hear him leading them further down the hall, weaving in and out of rooms as he took one out as soon as it got too close.

"Go out! Go up the road! I'll meet you there!"

A stray walker stumbled into the living room, cutting me off from following behind the herd of walkers to help Daryl. I tripped backwards, catching myself on one of the chairs as the walker reached from me. It hissed as bloodied spit bubbles hit the right side of my face. I tightened my grip on the knife, regaining my balance before lodging the blade into its left temple. The walker's knees buckled and dropped to the floor, staining the spotless white carpet with its diseased blood. I stepped over the body, making my way back to the hallway, but Daryl was already gone.

I internally fought with myself. I wanted so badly to go help Daryl, but I knew I'd be putting him in more danger of getting out alive if I ended up in a situation where he'd have to rescue me too. Reluctantly, I did what he asked and went outside to the front. There were walkers everywhere. A small herd passed through and those fifteen were the first to make it to the mausoleum, following the stray dog straight to our doorstep.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't wait too long without being detected by another walker, but I also couldn't leave Daryl. I spun in circles, looking for somewhere to hide for cover, somewhere that would give me enough time to stay alive while I waited for him to come out. My heart was in my throat as my head swung back and forth, but all I saw were trees. Just then a sharp pain came down on the back of my head. Within an instant my eyes became heavy and I lost consciousness. I didn't even see them coming.