Chapter Text
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead despite the cold wind biting at his cheeks and finger tips. They hadn’t been waking for too long, but his knees already felt like they were ready to give out. “How much farther is this so called ‘new safe point,’ Margret?” Grizzy said, he look about as tired as Pezzy felt but he had much more reason to be. All of their meager supplies had been stuffed into two duffel bags hanging from either of the man’s shoulders. The way he was hunched slightly and his speech sounded wispy were the only tells of his dwindling exhaustion.
It’d come as a shock when Margret had burst through the door not even five hours ago shouting about a new group, armed and hostile, roaming about the area and taking refuge in the hospital they had been frequenting. She had immediately began packing up whatever was of mild use to them, stuffing them into bags as the others flocked around her and asked frantic questions. Many of them being ‘what the fuck are you doing?
She had only paused once, turning to Mika when he had grabbed her forearm and dragged her attention away from the cans she had been stacking haphazardly into the bag, only to pick it up later and make them all topple.
“Margret!” He said, fingers digging into her tanned skin. Her muscles tensed, arm drawn halfway to her chest in an unsurprising show of strength. She was ex military after all. “What?” She hissed.
Mika released her, taking a step away and letting out a slow breath as he waited for her to lower her guard. She was obviously nervous, nerves frayed and hair on end like an alley cat ready to fight at a moments notice. “What are you doing? Why are you packing up all our stuff?” He started, losing off the rest of the less obvious questions in favor of lowering the tension made from the other tenants of their group still crowded around.
“They’re dangerous.” Was all she said.
Mika nodded, looking at the bag still held in a white knuckled grip at her side. “And why are you packing all of our things?”
“Because we’re leaving.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re dangerous!” She shouted this time, voice shrill with an undertone of trilling fear.
Mika nodded, he looked a little shaken. “Okay, do you know why they’re dangerous, or is it just because they showed hostility?” Margret was shaking her head, she looked mad now. “I know them. They’re not good people. We have to go.” Mika looked hesitant, but when Mason and Blarg stepped away from the group and began picking up a few fallen cans and placing them into her bag the question was basically decided. They were leaving, and it was happening now.
Droid was stumbling, side leaned heavily against Pezzys shoulder. Blarg had tried coming over a few minutes ago to help take some of the weight off the smaller man, growing tired of watching them struggle when he had saw him stumble for the third time in a few minutes, but Pezzy had shook his head. “It’s fine, I’ve got him. Jostling him too much now wouldn’t be good.” He said, a weary smile shakily making its way across his face.
Blarg had given him a look, hands still hovering around Droids exposed shoulder, but had eventually given in and walked back to his position at the back, a small pistol only loaded with two spare bullets in his hand.
Suddenly, there was a shout. Grizzy was stopped, bags slowly sliding from his arms as they had uncurled away from his chest. Pezzy couldn’t really see from where he stood behind him, so he nudged Droid gently, cringing when he heard the soft wheeze he let out, before they shuffled up next to Grizzy.
It took a second for him to realize what he was looking at, but once he saw it he sucked in a sharp breath, free hand cling up to cover his mouth.
On the ground, about twenty feet away from them, was a crawling Walker. Its back torso was mangled and bloody, left leg handing on by a few threads of tendon and dragging its rotting body across the pavement towards them. His face was slack jawed, eyes blurry and watery and a string of saliva dripped down his chin.
“Is that?-“ Pezzy started, only stopping when he felt his stomach roll. Grizzy just nodded solemnly, hands clenched into a handful of loose fabric from around his abdomen. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s him.” He whispered.
Yumi, bloody, fingernailless fingers and all, dragged himself towards them, all traces of the humanity and friendship they’d once known gone. A bloody bite mark was visible on an exposed part of what was left of his thigh, ripped skin and muscle flayed from what was likely grimy fingers and infected teeth.
“What’s the hold up?” Blarg called from the back. His view was similarly blocked by Mika and Luke, who were watching the exchange with baited breaths. They had no idea who this Walker was to their group mates, only that he was getting closer, and the two looked like they were ready to cry and throw up at the same time.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Grizzy shouted, making Pezzy flinch at the sudden noise. “Margret, give me your hatchet.” Pezzy blanched, free hand grabbing onto Grizzys sleeve. “You can’t be serious. You can’t kill him!” He said, voice high pitched in a way he always hated.
Grizzy yanked his arm out of Pezzys grip, snatching the hatchet from Margret’s outstretched hand. “And do what? Leave him to suffer like this? Be real, Pezzy. We can’t just let him go on like this. He was our friend, we have to help him.” Grizzy sounded unsure of himself as he spoke, but he said it with enough conviction Pezzy only looked away, pushing his face into Droids shoulder. The man was delirious with fever, so it’s not like he could do much more than devil his head against Pezzys anyways. Maybe that was for the better.
He could hear quiet murmuring from up ahead, no doubt Grizzy talking with their friend and the gurgling speech he received back. Then, a quiet schlech and a thump of a head hitting the hit pavement was all that was left.
Pezzy choked on his own breath, pitching his head as far away from Droid as he could to dispel whatever was left from his rations two days ago. There was little to nothing but stomach bile and a mystery white liquid that tasted like what he thought warm battery acid would taste like.
Blarg had come up to stand next to him, a shaking hand grasped tightly around his shoulder. It was meant to give him a little comfort, but it seemed more like Pezzy was holding together what little resolve Matt had left.
Grizzy was back over to them within the minute, thrusting the bloody hatchet at Margret who watched them with sad, squinted eyes. “He was important to you before?” She asked, cringing only after she realized how her question had sounded.
Grizzy merely nodded, keeping his eyes cast to the ground as he picked up the fallen bags, refusing to make eye contact with Pezzy who was now staring at him with wide, tormenting eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Was all he said.