A Walker's Lullaby

A suffocating cloud of dust rushed over my head as my stomach collided with the grass, covering me from any debris that went flying as the clock tower smashed against the pavement, taking a part of the wall down with it. The sound of the dead's groans instantly echoed across the town, now being inside, their gurgles bounced off the panels as the remaining walls trapped them in with us. I wanted to scream, but not from fear, from anger. Our home was being destroyed by the second. These things had no regard for anything, they marched right on through like we had put down a welcoming mat for them. They stared straight ahead, waiting for their eyes to catch a glimpse, or their nose to catch a scent of the living, destroying anything that stood in their way. I shuffled backwards on my butt, stunned by the sheer velocity of walkers that had already filtered in through the one gap. They began to disperse and if I didn't get up and run quickly, I'd be the first one they'd go for.

"Everyone, get back!" I could hear Rick yell from the other side of the road. He, Tobin, Morgan, and Spencer had been closest to the tower. "Get into your houses, go!"

I finally snapped myself out of my thoughts. I was done processing this unfathomable situation and actually start acting. I got to my feet, yanking my Glock from my holster. The walkers began to crowd, shuffling around me. But I ran and they walked. I sprinted down the street, going towards my own house, hoping that's where our people would be. I don't know how, but walkers already seemed to get to that point faster than me, they were everywhere. My feet hit the pavement with a thud, jogging down the main street to our house when walkers began to filter out down the sides of houses, seeping onto their lawns and on the road with me. I slid on my heel, quickly realizing that I wouldn't be able to make it back to my own house, I just had to make it into any house at this point.

I turned to my right, where fewer walkers had crowded. I spotted the house I was going for, all I had to do was get across the street and over one lawn. I was home free, running off towards the front door when a shout came from behind me. I whipped my head around, seeing that Spencer had tripped and hit the sidewalk hard. Fucking Spencer. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to stray from that door to safety, but knowing I had to. I turned and ran back for him. I watched as he flipped over onto his back, shuffling his body away from the walkers that closed in around him. I was only a couple of feet away when I began firing, wasting away the only bullets I had. I hit the target every time, killing the closest walkers to Spencer.

I knelt down, grabbing at his arm to get up, "Come on, this way!" I shouted at him. With my last two bullets, I shot down the walkers that clawed at our backs and dragged him off to the house with me. He hobbled from twisting his ankle but managed to keep up. I flew up the porch stairs, the dead continuing to follow us closely. I reached for the front doorknob, twisting it and diving inside. Spencer fell into the house after me as I slammed the door shut on the dead, pressing my back against the door and trying to regain my breath. We were safe, but I was stuck in a house with the most reckless person here.

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Spencer and I sat in silence, I was at one side of the dining room table while he was on the other side way down at the end. The walkers continued to bang their hands and ricochet their bodies off of the doors and windows. I shut my eyes tight, growing frustrated. I knew we had to wait this situation out, but so many things could go wrong in the process of waiting. What left me most concerned was the fact that if something did go wrong all I have is Spencer to cover my back. As my eyes lay shut I could hear Spencer drop his glass down on the table again.

"Do you really think that's the brightest idea?" I snapped, looking over at him.

"We very well might die today," he scoffed as he picked up the glass of whiskey and took another sip, "I'm trying to enjoy myself while I can."

"If those walkers come barreling through that door, you want to be of sound mind to fight back," I fought, pointing towards the shadow of walkers still pounding against the front of the house.

"You honestly think that if those walkers get through, you and I would be able to fight them off? We're trapped in here with nowhere to go but upstairs, and then after that we are trapped again. So excuse me, but I'm going to have one drink for the time being," he snarled.

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. I was mad, but he was right, "Well, pass it down then," I ordered, keeping my face straight. He smirked before sliding the bottle down the table. I caught it with my hand, taking one swig of it to steady my nerves. "Whose house is this anyway?" I asked, placing the bottle back down on the table. One shot was all I'd be having, the brown liquid making the anxiety subside and a rush of adrenaline taking its place.

"Aaron and Eric's," Spencer answered, bored. I pushed back my chair, placing my crowbar and machete down on the table before I began rummaging through the house. I was in a rush, opening up every drawer I could find and pushing aside its continents as I searched for what I needed. "What are you doing?" Spencer asked.

"Aaron's a recruiter, he's constantly on the outside," I explained as I continued to search, "He follows the rules, he's friendly, welcoming, and warm. He's not the type of person you'd think twice about, but he also knows what it is like out there." Aaron was very much like the male version of Carol, hiding in the shadows.

"You're not making any sense," I could hear Spencer respond as I made my way over to the kitchen, sliding open drawers and cupboards.

"He's the type of person to have some tricks up his sleeves. He'd have a backup, a stash to keep him safe just in case because he's the type of person no one would think to have it," I said. I opened another cupboard, lifting up the lid to a cooking pot and finally finding it. I pulled out the pot and placed it on the countertop, immediately drawing my gun from my holster. A whole pot full of bullets stared up at me. I reloaded my weapon with a full magazine, clicking it back into place. I picked up another pack, turning to throw it over to Spencer when I realized he stood right behind me.

"You are clever," he said, a smirk sliding across his face as he placed his hands on either side of me. He leant his palms on the edge of the countertop, trapping me in. "I wanna know what the hell Daryl did to deserve you?" He spoke slowly, staring down at me. I gulped hard, not entirely sure what he was trying to get at. Other than that night at his mother's party, Spencer and I haven't even looked twice at each other. Although, when you felt like your world was coming to an end, you often act irrationally. And like I said, Spencer was a reckless person.

"He sure as hell doesn't put himself in situations he needs saving from," I snapped back, referring to both instances today where I had to save Spencer's ass. Now I was beginning to wish I didn't.

Spencer laughed, amused by my response, "No one asked you to help me," he responded, leaning his body in closer.

"Next time I won't then," I was cold with my tone, angered.

"Daryl is never going to be enough for you. He's never going to give you what you want." I looked up at him, keeping any emotion I had hidden from my face. "I heard you ask him that night if he loved you. He couldn't even give you that," he confessed.

"What are you getting at Spencer? You think you could?" I asked, my tone harsh.

"I know I could," he smirked down at me.

"I've known you two months and I've known Daryl two years and--"

He leaned in even closer, cutting off my sentence, "And if you had met me first, things could have been so different."

My eyes remained wide open, seeing what he was about to do. His body hovered just inches over mine as he attempted to lean over and kiss me. I was furious. I caught him off guard, placing the barrel of my gun under his chin and clicking off the safety. His eyes shot open, his head being raised back upwards as he quivered away from the cold metal attached to the bottom of his jaw. I pushed him backwards, "It wouldn't matter if I met you two decades before Daryl, I'd still be him. You're a coward Spencer. Waiting until we are locked in a house together while you think we're going to die. I don't go for cowards," I spat as he was now backed up and pressed against the edge of the island. I dropped my gun from his chin, walking away from him.

Just as I recollected my weapons on the dining room table, my head whipped to the right. My heart lept into my throat upon hearing the back door slam open against the wall and shut closed again. I ran down the hallway, holding my machete tight in my hand as Spencer followed behind me. A sigh of relief came over me when halfway down the hall I was met with Aaron. He was out of breath and his face scrunched up with worry.

"Is Eric here?" he asked through pants of breath.

I shook my head, "No, it's just us," I answered, not daring to look back at Spencer. How relieved I was to have someone else here with us.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Eric head for the infirmary when the wall came down," Spencer said.

Aaron pushed passed me, two-stepping his way up the staircase. I turned on my heel, following him up. "Where are you going?" I asked, trying to keep up with his pace.

"The roof," he answered, "We can see most of the town from up there."

We follow him into one of the bedrooms that overlooked the front of the house. He pulled up the window that sat just above the roof of the porch. The lull of the herd's moans penetrated our eardrums.

"Is this safe?" Spencer asked, watching as Aaron already began to squeeze through the small opening.

"From the roof of the porch we can get up onto the top roof," Aaron nodded, "Eric and I come out here almost every night."

I squeezed out after Aaron, steadying myself on the slanted roof before Aaron reached out his hand to help me up further. We crawled up the shingles of the roof slowly, carefully placing our hands and feet with each step before we reached the flatter part at the very top connecting to the other side. My legs wobbled from how high up we were, using my hands for support as I straightened my kneels and stood up carefully once we hit the top. I was never a fan of heights.

My heart sank as I stared down at the scene below us. It felt like a punch in the gut, all the wind being knocked out of my lungs. My mind immediately rushed back to standing on that rooftop with Ben, overlooking the streets of Atlanta riddled with walkers. We couldn't make it out of that situation, so how the hell was I supposed to make it out of this one?

"I need to get to Eric," Aaron said. I looked over at him, watching as his chest rose and fell with each fearful breath. "I need to get to the infirmary."

"That's all the way down the road," I said, shaking my head, "How the hell are we going to get down there?"

"Not we, just me," Aaron shook his head, looking over at me.

"There is no way you can make it there on your own," I objected, "That's a death sentence."

"Are you guys seeing this?" Spencer then asked, drawing our attention back down to the street.

I followed his line of sight, trying to spot what he was staring at. My eyes widened when I saw them. The seven of them filter out through the front door of the house just down and across from us. Rick, Michonne, Carl, Gabriel, Jesse, Sam, and Ron, all held hands as they weaved through the herd of walkers slowly. They had been draped in bedsheets, walker guts and blood coating the white linen and masking their scents from the dead they walked amongst.

I breathed out a shaky breath, "That's how we get you to the infirmary."