Chapter Text
1.
It was going to happen eventually, but it came as a shock nonetheless. The old metal truck had been sputtering pathetically for the past quarter mile, and presently it gave in with a rude jerk, startling Arvo out of an uneasy sleep.
“Dammit”, Mike swore.
“Oh, shit.” Bonnie leaned forward, gripping the dash as she peered out the frosted windows nervously. “Is there any gas in the back?”
“If there was, I’d be surprised,” Mike sighed. “Checked the whole thing out before we left. If there had been any, Kenny would have taken taken it out and put it with the rest of the supplies.”
“Which we took,” Bonnie sat back in her seat, her breath letting out in a single, troubled huff. It hung in the air for a moment, before the pale mist dispersed into the frigid air of the truck’s interior. “I don’t know…I can’t help thinking that we didn’t do the right thing. We could have left some supplies for the others…”
“We had no choice,” Mike slid his hands from the useless steering wheel and into his lap, rubbing them together for a brief flash of warmth.
“But AJ…and Clementine…oh, God, Clem…”
Unable to ignore his own shame any longer, Mike looked away.
“Is…very cold,” Arvo muttered uncertainly. Although he thought he could trust Mike, he feared that the rest of the group— the ones they left behind--- would pursue them. He may not speak much English, or be very brave, but he knew enough to know that Mike and Bonnie were runners, not fighters. If Kenny came after them, there would be nothing to protect Arvo from being literally beaten to death by Kenny.
“That it is,” Mike agreed quietly. He seemed unwilling to say anymore.
“We could hunker down here for the night,” Bonnie suggested. “Just ‘til it’s light. We can think of a plan then.”
“Maybe not,” Arvo said in a small voice. He was still not sure about his standing in the group. “Should…more distance from others…?” He struggled to speak English, as cold as he was. I should have paid better attention in English class, he reflected regretfully.
“Look, Arvo, I understand that you want to get as far away from Kenny as possible, but there’s nowhere that we can go right now.” Mike made sure to articulate every word carefully. There was no telling how much he actually understood what they were saying. “And with your leg…man, it’s just better we stay put.”
“…yes.” Arvo disagreed, but couldn’t think of the words to express his concern that they were too exposed on the side of the open highway.
“The two of you rest. I’ll take first watch.” Bonnie managed to smile thinly, despite the dismal situation.
“You sure?”
“I can handle it, Mike,” she replied kindly. “I think I’ll sit in the bed of the truck, so I have a full view. Can’t be too much colder out there than in here. I’ll wake you when I’m tired.”
“Be safe.”
The heavy truck rocked slightly as Bonnie climbed into the back, shotgun in hand. Arvo thought that her absence left too much empty space in the truck, and a want of warmth. He watched Mike from cracked glasses as his tired ally rested his head against his arm and quickly fell asleep.
Arvo turned his head to look through the window at the back of the truck. Bonnie sat upright and alert, cradling the shotgun against her arm. He only saw the back of her head, but could imagine her furrowed brow as she scanned the vicinity for the walking dead. The image made hime feel somewhat safer. He turned away from the window, and resigned himself to reliving the horrors of the past few days.
I wonder how that little girl is doing, he thought. She should live…I shot her in the shoulder. And as small as she is, it probably went clean through…Nevertheless, his stomach squirmed at the remembrance of her tiny body falling onto the hard, frozen ground, blood pooling beneath her. She killed my sister…but…oh, why can’t I control my impulses? He hadn’t wanted to shoot her. Not really. But the girl herself had been armed—- and as she had slowly advanced towards them, gun twitching from Mike, to Arvo, to Mike again, his hand had suddenly compressed the trigger without warning, surprising everyone present—- including Arvo. Natasha was right, he reflected miserably. She told me once that I’m like a deer caught in headlights when I’m scared. I freeze, but then my body acts as if of its own accord. My brain only jolts into action just in time to suffer over whatever I’ve done…He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh. He didn’t want to think about Natasha. And Natasha wasn’t an excuse for what he had done. The little girl had shown loyalty to Kenny—-(he unconsciously squeezed his hands into fists at this turn of thought, as though wringing the neck of a small, helpless animal)—- but…as a little girl, how could she be anything but loyal to those who seemed to keep her safe? And anyway, she had stuck up for him every chance she got. And I repay her with a bullet through the shoulder.
“Hey.”
Arvo turned to the sound of Mike’s voice. “What,” He asked tiredly.
“It’s just…your leg. What’s the story about that?”
Arvo followed his gaze to the black metal brace affixed to his right leg. “Broken,” he muttered.
“I kind of figured,” Mike replied patiently. “How long ago did you break it?”
Arvo blinked a few times. Dir’mo, I must seem like an unintelligent moron! Arvo could already tell that this language barrier was going to be a problem. Arvo, you Durak neshtiasnyI, what have you gotten yourself into?
From his hesitation to answer, Mike came to the false conclusion that Arvo was unwilling to talk about it. “Look, man, it’s okay. I just wanted to get an idea about how far along you are in the healing process.”
“It…argh…eight months,” Arvo managed. “I fell out of tree. I was…I keep watch.” He tried, at least. “I was lucky. My sister…fix,” he trailed off, ill- equipped to finish the sentence. He knew enough about this stuff from his sister, who had been studying to be a doctor. If fixed correctly to his leg, the brace should have allowed for a better recovery. The fracture itself hadn’t been that bad—- but the tendons in his knee had strained. Natasha had suggested days earlier that it would soon be time to take a look at the injury. The healing process, he knew, was nearly, if not completely, over. Although he definitely hadn’t been resting the leg enough to foster proper healing, so it could take longer. Arvo, Ti Durak! You can’t even speak English, you moron! He wished he could simply will Mike to understand all of this.
“Eight months? I don’t know anything about this stuff, but isn’t that near long enough? My brother broke his arm when he was a kid, but I guess that’s different.” Mike rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to wipe away the stress of the situation.
“I know. My sister…was a doctor.”
“She was? So how much longer do you think you need?”
“Very soon, I check. Tomorrow, if safe.”
Mike nodded. “Alright. How’s your lip?” He gestured to his own, to clarify his meaning.
Arvo reached up to touch his sore lip. Niegadzai Sooksin…that good for nothing son of a bitch. His face was badly bruised, as was much of his torso. His unbroken leg had a bad bruise on the thigh from when Kenny had knelt on him at one point while he was beating him up. It still hurt like hell. “I’m not so very well.”
“I’m glad we left when we did. That man was a train derailed,” Mike set his head back on his hand. “Apparently he wasn’t always like that. Clem—“ he winced in guilt “—-Clementine said that he had lost his wife and son. Was never the same after that.”
Arvo didn’t want to feel sympathy for Kenny. He looked away and glared out his window. The very mention of that man made his mouth taste of bile.
“Well, I guess everyone changed for the worse after this whole walker business began. But Kenny…he just completely lost it. Had we stuck around, there’s no telling what he would have done. He…he was a danger to all of us.”
“You did not change,” Arvo found himself saying. “You…helped me.”
Mike managed a slight smile. “Yeah…I guess I did.” He yawned and turned to look out the back window. Bonnie must have sensed his gaze, because she turned around and offered a smile at both of them before turning back to watch the tree- lined road.
“We’d better get some sleep,” Mike said at last. “It’s a long day tomorrow, and we’re gonna have to walk.”
***
Snow.
At least a foot of it had fallen in the night. The road, once a clear marker running South to North, had become in the space of a single night totally obscured, leaving the only indicator of its existence the sudden baldness in the shrubbery that extended as a thick line through the forest. Arvo’s heart plummeted as he realized that they were going to have to walk through all that. If my leg isn’t healed by now, I’m doomed, he thought. There was no way that Mike and Bonnie would hang behind with him for long. His head spun around, searching for Bonnie, but he found the truck empty. No, no, no, no… His eyes fell on the duffel bags of supplies in the back seat, and he closed his eyes, releasing a shuddering, relieved breath. They would not have left the supplies behind.
Familiar voices gradually grew into Arvo’s awareness, and he craned his neck forward from his seat in time to see two figures emerge from the trees. Mike and Bonnie seemed to be in a heated discussion. They approached the truck at a leisurely pace, and Arvo relaxed slightly. They’re not running, that’s good, he said, to reassure himself. If they aren’t running, they aren’t being chased. Now get out of the car and go see what they’re saying, you coward. After all, they could be talking about him. He forced himself to wrench open the passenger side door, and eased himself into the snow. Arvo instantly recoiled from the idea of walking a mere several yards to the others. Might as well get used to it now. This is going to be how it is until we find shelter.
The trio met in the middle of the road, and stood close together for warmth. Their breath created a bubble of hot air around their faces.
“How’d you sleep?” Mike crossed his arms across his torso. His jacket was zipped all the way up, and he had pulled tight the strings of his hoodie to protect his closely shaved head from the bitter winter air.
“Must have slept well enough, to have missed the blizzard,” Bonnie muttered into her bare hands.
“Yeah. I’m not looking forward to walking through this…but why don’t we discuss this in the truck? it’ll be warmer in there after a while.” Mike led the other two through the path Arvo had plowed through the snow, and back to the truck.
Breakfast was a single can of beans split between the three of them. Bonnie had the insight to scoop a bucket of fresh fallen snow and leave it to melt in a bucket in the truck, so that they could conserve the bottled water. She had found the bucket in the back. A thin crack in its plastic bottom was easily mended with a few well- sealed layers of duct tape across its length. Their hunger quieted for the time being, the three sat shivering together in the truck’s interior. They were silent for a time, and with each second that passed their breath and bodies warmed the air somewhat, making it easier to concentrate on the problem at hand.
“We should head up to Wellington,” Bonnie suggested. “There’s survivors there. They’ll have food, and people in charge. That’s probably one of the first places that will recover.”
“I don’t know. Everyone we meet seems to know about Wellington. They’re probably overcrowded by now, and running short on supplies.”
“Maybe,” Bonnie conceded. “But I don’t know of any other options.”
“What about Carver’s camp?”
“That place is probably overrun with walkers by now.”
“I don’t know…it was a pretty fortified place. And there’s probably some supplies left. We could fix the place up. Make it our own.”
“But could we defend it? I know at least a handful of people who know exactly where Carver’s place is at…”
An uncomfortable silence followed, and Arvo felt the need to look away. He felt increasingly more like an outsider among the other two. Wellington… the others knew about that. He recalled a whispered exchange between Vitali and Buricko a mere two weeks ago…if only he’d been able to hear the entire conversation. The information could have proved useful.
Mike’s eyes fell on Arvo. “I guess now is as good a time as any to check that leg. Anything I can help with?”
Arvo was shaken out of his thoughts. “No, I can do it.”
“Well…then I’m going to divide up the supplies. Just in case we get separated.”
“Good idea. I’ll help,” Bonnie chimed in. “Um, Arvo…if there’s anything you need, just holler, okay?”
Arvo nodded, and the other two pulled the supply bags into the bed of the truck to give him space.
***
“I hope this will work out,” Bonnie said, as she unzipped one of the duffel bags and began to rummage around inside, mentally taking inventory of its contents.
“It’ll be fine. There’s a spare bag in here. Not as big as the duffel bags, but it’ll do.”
Bonnie sighed. “No, I mean Arvo. If his leg isn’t healed enough to walk on, this is going to be very difficult.”
Mike transferred a few cans to the spare bag. “You saying we should ditch him?”
“No—- God forbid, no—- I just really, really want this to work out. I want this time to be…different.” She handed a couple cans of fruit to Mike.
Mike stored the cans into his duffel bag, thought a moment, and then transferred one of them to the spare. “ I know what you mean.”
They took a few more minutes to reassemble the supplies into three packs, and sat side by side once they were finished. They had enough supplies for at least a few weeks, if they rationed carefully.
Bonnie stared at the packs for a moment. “How long do you think the others could have lasted on all that?”
Mike knit his brow. “I don’t know…a couple weeks, tops? Same as us.”
“It’s just…I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself. We chose our lives over theirs.”
Mike shifted uncomfortably. “Can I tell you something?”
Bonnie nodded.
“As soon as we were driving away, I regretted it.”
Bonnie nodded in agreement. “We should have left some supplies for the others.”
“We should have brought Clementine.”
They were interrupted by the closing of one of the truck’s doors. A moment later, Arvo had made his way around the truck, and he stood in front of them, his leg freed of the brace. He looked down at his feet, and shifted from foot to foot, arms hugging around his chest to keep warm.
“It’s off,” Mike exclaimed. “Nice.”
Bonnie sighed. “That’s a relief. So it’s okay to walk on?”
Arvo nodded once.
“Here.” Mike tossed the spare bag to him. Arvo caught it in both hands, and looked up at him. “We split the supplies evenly. Just as a precaution.” He watched as Arvo slung the pack on his back.
“So…what now?” Bonnie had joined Arvo on the ground so that all three of them were facing each other.
Mike left the truck to stand beside the other two. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking, and Carver’s place just doesn’t sound safe to me.”
“I’m with you there,” said Bonnie. She turned hesitantly to Arvo. “What do you think, Arvo? Any ideas?”
Arvo looked up, startled. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Bonnie shifted her weight to her hip and stuffed her cold hands deep into her pockets. “You’re with us, you know.”
“Right,” Mike agreed. “You weren’t the only one who messed up back there, kid. Bonnie and I…we left behind some good people. We had to do it, but…” He trailed off painfully.
“What Mike means, is we can start over now. So…are you with us?”
Arvo looked from Mike to Bonnie. “Yes,” he said finally. “I am with you.”
Mike grinned. Three seemed to him to be much better than two. It was still a scant amount of people, but maybe that was for the best. “Then what’s your vote, Arvo?”
“North.”
“You sure,” Bonnie asked. “It’ll only get colder up in Ohio. Wellington’s near enough the Lakes that we’ll be in for a world of hurt trying to survive up there.”
“Cold is good. Not so for walkers,” Arvo said firmly. “There could be news at Wellington.”
“That’s a good point,” Mike said. “The people up there may have figured out a way to defend against walkers, too.”
“They could have scientists there,” Bonnie added. “Or—- someone who may know how to fix this.”
“I don’t think so,” Arvo said. “But…food would be good. And guns.”
Mike looked between the two. “Well, then it’s settled. North it is.
***
“Stop talking, Arvo, you’re giving me a headache!”
“Natasha—- Natasha! Look!”
“What is it, Arvo? What do you see now?”
“On the building! At the top! It’s—- a man!”
“What?”
“What is that idiot doing?”
“Arvo, please, come here now.”
“But don’t you see him?”
“Arvo—-“
“He’s—-Natasha, he’s jumping off!”
“Arvo, get away from there!”
“Why is he doing that?”
“Arvo! ARVO!”
“You okay back there?”
Arvo was startled out of his thoughts by Mike’s voice. He wished he would keep it down. The walkers were attracted to noise, and every small sound seemed oddly magnified on the snowy plain. They had left the forest behind hours ago, and continued to trek along the highway until it reached wide, rolling hills. The pale gray sky was silently crying icy flakes onto the already heaping layers of snow that caked the hills around them.
Still haunted by his sudden relapse into the past, Arvo couldn’t help but search through the haze around them. Scanning the colorless landscape, he could almost make out the silhouettes of skyscrapers, and a tiny dot of a man poised on top of one, ready to jump. The man seemed to take a deep, steadying breath before hurtling himself into the air, surrendering his twisted body to the asphalt- lined city streets below.
“ Arvo, I said get away from there!”
“Arvo?”
“Yes…”
“We can rest for a moment, if you need to sit,” Bonnie turned to look back at him as she walked.
“There’s nowhere to sit,” Arvo said dryly. “We walk.”
“Okay,” Bonnie shrugged.
His thoughts seemed to always return to Natasha, no matter how far away the road took them. But there was something comforting about the exhaustion of the seemingly endless trek before them; something in the rhythm of each step that after miles of non-event became a hypnotizing hum, similar to the single-tone whistling of a car streaking desperately down an empty freeway. It was deathly cold, Arvo was hungry, and he missed his sister more with each haggard breath. The cold was raw against his throat. Each inhalation was the sharp edge of a knife, and every exhalation a hellish burning that offered just enough relief to make the next breath more painful, but not enough to allow a moment of recovery. It felt like he was choking on razor blades. He feared, too, that his leg had not completely recovered. His knee was still weak, and the longer they walked, the more it shook from the strain of holding the weight of his pack. There was no way he would be able to run on it. The terror of being left with a permanent limp plagued his thoughts. Please, please, let it be okay…
How had things turned out this way? It was only a few days ago that he had last spoken to Natasha. I never thought that a few days ago would ever seem ordinary to me, he thought. I guess even with the walkers, that life before now had became the new normal. It was ironic, too. Arvo hadn’t thought things could have gotten any worse.
“Alright,” Bonnie huffed. “Russian machine boy may not need to stop, but I could sure use a break.
She allowed her duffle bag to slide off of her shoulder and onto the ground, and then sat on it carefully, making sure not to crush the contents.
“It’s mostly cans, anyway. And boxes. Don’t want to sit in the snow.”
“You would literally freeze your ass off,” Mike said, before mimicking her trick with the duffel bag. The slick surface would prevent any moisture from touching the interior. Arvo joined them, voicelessly thankful for the short stop.
“How long do you think we’ve been walking?” Bonnie sipped sparing amounts from a water bottle.
Mike took a slow, deep, breath and let it hiss out slowly between his teeth. He closed his eyes for a moment before replying. “Four, maybe five hours? We’ve covered some major ground.”
“We should find a safe place to stay the night. It’s dangerous out here in the open,” Arvo muttered. He wrapped his arms around himself as he tried to keep warm, and peered nervously up at the other two from behind frosted glasses.
Mike and Bonnie exchanged a baffled look.
“Why don’t you understand?! I can’t believe this…what have I gotten myself into?” Arvo stood up abruptly, and paced back and forth in frustration. “I’m such a fucking idiot…” he sat down again, resting his head in his hands. I’m an idiot for thinking this would work, he thought. He gritted his teeth, and then at last raised his head again to face Mike. I have to try. “We…we find shelter. Very soon dark. Is very… open… in this place.”
Mike said nothing, only looking at him sympathetically. Arvo flushed in embarrassment and looked out across the desolate plain. White, white, and more white. Is there any color left in the world?
“A sign a ways back mentioned a rest stop up ahead. You know…the kind where truckers would stop for a night to refuel? There’s a chance there could be supplies there. At the very least it would be strong enough to last a night.”
“Do you remember how far it said it was?” Mike stood up and lifted his duffel bag over his shoulder, allowing it to hang cross- body style, situating the heaviest part behind him so that it wouldn’t limit his movement.
“I think five miles. But it’ll be closer now.”
Arvo felt a surge of panic. “Five miles? How could you not have mentioned this before? That’s hours away!” Although they couldn’t understand him, Arvo was sure that Bonnie and Mike caught the accusation and urgency in his tone.
“I—- I’m sorry. I know it’s far, I just…” Bonnie trailed off when she noticed the look of horror that had suddenly flashed across Mike’s face.
“Mike..?” She turned around, following his gaze across the hills. “Oh, God—-“
“Walkers!” Arvo’s eyebrows shot up in fear, and he glanced down at his right leg. I can’t run…you govniuk, Arvo, you’re going to die.
“They’re still a half mile off. I remember when we crossed that hill. And they’re slow.” Mike had began to walk briskly along the road. “We can make it. The cold’ll slow them down.”
“They haven’t seen us. We’ll be okay.” Bonnie glanced a few times over her shoulder as she followed after Mike. “Come on, Arvo. Hang in there.”
“How could we have been so stupid? Why didn’t we just keep going?” He didn’t expect a reply, and he didn’t get one. Arvo hurried behind them, straining his vision as he looked ahead for any sign of a protective structure. He was painfully aware that the cloudy sky was darker than it had been an hour ago.
By short degrees, the snow drifts became easier to pass through. Packed ice gave way to dead, frozen weeds and cracked asphalt. It was the first time since the night before that they had actually seen the road they were trying to follow. It was now fully dark, the landscape reduced to a jumble of deceptive silhouettes and illusive shadows.
“There!,” Bonnie gasped. She held a stitch in her side as she thrust out her arm to point at the rest stop, just visible ahead. It was several yards after the peak of a particularly steep hill, on an artificially flat space of land that had been leveled to better accommodate shipping vehicles.
“Thank fucking God.” Mike threw a look over his shoulder to briefly asses the mob of walkers that was alarmingly close—- less than half a football field away. Worse, they were no longer fooled into thinking that the trio was just an outlying group of walkers.
“There’s so…many of them,” Bonnie said. “We…we have to hurry. If we can just make it up this hill…”
Arvo sputtered a short distance behind them. The fact that his leg had not fully healed was obvious. He leaned heavily onto his left leg, and bent forward slightly in an attempt to hurry his pace. Faster! You must keep up, he pled with himself. He hobbled hysterically after Bonnie and Mike, fighting the urge to check the walkers’ progress behind him. Walk, Arvo, Ja pycckij pidaras. It’s simple, you niegadzai koshei bessmertni. Just don’t. Look. Back.
“Arvo, you have to keep up, man!” Mike halted his pace to look back at the struggling kid.
“I. Am. TRYING,” he hissed. In his frustration, he abandoned his previous resolve to not look behind him.
They were snarling, seething, oozing, nearly twenty of them, fanned out across the road behind them. Their bodies moved contrary any sense of logical anatomy, their heads slumped against their chests, or lolling over one shoulder, hanging by bundles of exposed nerves and torn skin. Their arms were reaching, grasping, stumps, the claw-like fingers uselessly blackened or snapped off from the cold, leaving jagged knuckle bones pointing at the fleeing survivors. They stumbled over crooked legs and shattered ankle bones, struggled against the constraints of snapped spines, trying with all their hungry might to force themselves straight enough to pursue Arvo and his allies. One of them walked on only one foot, the other having been pulverized into a glob of bone and flesh. The foot’s fetid remains dragged after a makeshift stump that had once been the ankle of a slim young woman. Another looked as if it were hunched in on itself. A closer inspection revealed that its head had been punctured by its spinal cord. Its face gurgled up into the sky, affixed in a permanent position of open- mouthed awe, as if it were being fed succulent entrails by a twisted pair of dark angels, and praising them for it.
“ENGH—-!” Arvo’s face, still sore from being attacked by Kenny a day before, smacked onto the shockingly frigid asphalt, his one good foot having failed him on a patch of ice. “Nyet! Nyet! Help——!”
“Arvo!” Mike called out to him in alarm. “God—-shit—-just—- hold on!” He shoved his duffel bag at Bonnie,
“Mike, what—-“
“Go! Get to the rest stop! I’ll meet you there!” He sprinted back to Arvo, who was trying over and over again to heave himself to his feet, only to have his waning strength fail him. He collapsed to the ground again as Mike approached him, his countless pathetic attempts at saving himself forcing his breath into short, spastic, huffs.
“Don’t—-don’t panic.” Mike had reached him at last, and pulled Arvo to his feet. “Come on, buddy we’re nearly there, it’s almost over.”
“Chto vy delaete?”
“I’m trying to save your ass. Just work with me here.”
“I—- can’t do—-“
“Just lean on me, and walk as fast as you can.”
“Eto daleko?”
“We are literally one slip away from death, and I still don’t speak a damn word of Russian.”
The brief stop had allowed ample time for the walkers to gain significant ground, despite the bitter cold. Arvo leaned heavily against Mike, and together they managed to accomplish a steady pace just fast enough to stay a couple yards ahead of the ravenous mob behind them. Refusing to make the mistake of looking back again, Arvo focused on trying not to stumble—- one misstep could send both of them to the ground, and to their consequent ends. Eventually, they reached the base of the hill. Strained for precious time, and already exhausted from a full day’s journey, it seemed to stretch miles into the sky, dwarfing them with its ridiculous and intimidating upward slant.
“Stop—-stop! I can’t—-!” Arvo’s voice was cut off as he slipped again, this time falling to his hands and knees. Sputtering, he struggled to catch his breath.
“Get up! We don’t have time!” Mike knelt down to help Arvo to his feet.
“Nyet!”
“Arvo! They’re coming!”
I can smell them. They’re almost on us. We’re going to die. You pathetic idiot, you are going to die. Get up, get up GET UP!
“…Go!” Arvo swatted his hand at Mike, as if trying to bat away smoke. I—-can’t…Go!”
Mike stood up, recoiling from his flailing arm. “Kid…” He reached down to him again, offering a helping hand.
“NYET! Stoj…stoj.” He could hear their groaning, the scratching of exposed joints; he could smell their stench. Natasha, I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry…I tried. There’s no reason to do this anymore. If I die now, it’s over. If I live, it’s just more running and being cold and being hungry all the time…being scared all the fucking time…I’m sorry, sister, I’m so, so, sorry.
“Oh, no. I don’t fucking think so!”
“Argh!” Arvo was literally lifted from despair by a pair of strong arms. Mike.
“Now listen to me. I did not come this far for nothing. I did not leave behind Clementine after she was shot just to lose another friend! So you are going to stand the fuck up, and you are going to drag your sorry hide up that hill, or I will make you wish that you had gotten your face torn up by walkers. Now come on!”
Arvo was yanked roughly to his feet, and forced up the hill. Mike threw his arm around his torso and half carried, half dragged a spent Arvo determinedly upwards, throwing his body weight into the dramatic incline of the terrain. The walkers were a mere yard behind them. Their outstretched arms grappled with the black nighttime air as Mike fought Arvo and his own failing strength to reach the top of the hill. Arvo ground his teeth together as his jittering right knee strained to keep himself upright. He was half delirious with terror and pain. The world had become suddenly too fast paced, the night too bright, and his breath too loud. It was all too baffling to his jumbled senses. His vision was magnified to the point of nonsense. There, a rotting arm. There, a pinprick of light. There, a solitary tree, left to blacken and die from infection years ago on the side of the road. Everything was a puzzle piece magnified beyond recognition, all laid out side by side, lacking any common pattern or logic. His head bobbed up and down with the jarring movement of their uphill struggle. Sometimes, he caught a flash of sky. More lights. He watched as they seemed to smear and bleed as his head jerked down again. Suddenly, he was falling forward. The stars were turning, forming a streaked circle as the tree on the side of the road grew larger and spun like a pinwheel. The hot screams of the walkers scalded the back of his neck. There was a fumbling, before the screams faded and receded from his senses, tumbling backwards like marbles being tossed across the blacktop at his elementary school playground. But I’m falling, Arvo remembered. Reality untangled itself suddenly, expanding and fanning out as it shouted, “aha!”, and Arvo’s cheek slammed into a solid gray mass.
Disoriented, he laid with his cheek on the road as he tried to become accustomed to the sudden silence of the night. He squinted as his eyes were burned by a sickly white light, and an indistinguishable figure emerged from the lit beam and ran towards him.
“Oh, my God,” it said. “Oh, my God—- Mike!”
Mike, Arvo thought. He had saved him—- again! Where was he? Where am I? Groaning weakly, he peeled his cheek off of the freezing ground, and pushed himself up to his hands and knees, sucking in a painful breath as he squeezed shut his eyes and waited for the world to stop spinning. Once he felt more stable, Arvo allowed himself to sit back on his legs. He gingerly felt his freshly re-bruised left cheek as he looked around for his savior and—- dare he say it—- friend.
They were at the top of the hill. The rest stop was glowing like a beacon cutting through the wintry darkness, and Arvo felt a crashing wave of relief at the realization that they had made it. They were safe…for now.
“I’m here!”
Arvo spun around in time to see Bonnie dashing towards the beginning of the slope of the hill, where Mike presently staggered up to his feet, clutching a bloodied axe in his hand.
“Oh my God, Mike. Your’e alive!” She stopped breathless in front of him, about two arms lengths away from where Arvo sat.
“Did you think I wouldn’t make it?”
“For a moment there…yeah.”
Arvo struggled to his feet. “What—-what—“
“What happened?” Mike looked at him. “You…blacked out. The walkers caught up to us, and I was able to knock a few over…sent them all tumbling down the hill like dominoes. They’re gonna stay down there, too. Look.” He gesture for the others to look down the side of the hill.
Sure enough, their rotting foes were unable to scramble up the steep incline of the glorious hill. Once or twice, one made it a third of the way up, only to lose their balance and skid back down, hitting a few of its own and dragging down a handful of others with it.
“But…I don’t get it.” Bonnie brought arms close to her chest bent her head to blow a gust of hot breath across her white knuckles. “I thought you said your leg was okay, Arvo.”
“It…it much worse from walking.” Arvo hopped slightly as he shifted his weight off of his injured knee. “It was good at first, but…such long journey makes it not so good.”
“I was afraid of this,” Mike sighed. He turned to Bonnie. “Please…tell me you have some good news about the rest stop.
“Well, the place looks picked clean. There’s a broken window that’s been boarded up, so I think somebody must have been here a while ago. The roof must have solar panels, because the lights still work.”
“We should turn those off,” Mike suggested. “Arvo.”
He hates me. I nearly got him killed, and now he hates me. “…yes,” he asked timidly.
“You were far too eager to give up back there. You can’t…you can’t just lay down and let them take you. It’s just the three of us now, and we need to be able to rely on each other. You have to promise me something.”
Arvo nervously rubbed his hands together. “I am not…not so good. I used to be good at running away, but now—-it’s not so good now.”
“Okay. Okay,” Mike clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “I get it. But just…promise me that from now on, you’ll fight. No matter what.”
“Okay,” he replied uncertainly. Desperate for a few hours of rest, they followed Bonnie into the rest stop, too tired to speak any longer.