Chapter Text
The rising sun cast an auburn glaze over the rolling hills of rural Georgia, its orange glow lighting up the fluffy wisps of white clouds in the sky. On any other day, Kix would take the clouds as a welcome sign of rain and fresh water later on in the day, but as his daddy loaded his rifle, readying himself for the embark into the city, Kix couldn’t help but feel endlessly lost.
“Do ya have to go, Daddy?” Kix pouted as he leant against a large oak tree.
The five-year-old wrapped his arms around his torso, shivering as a cold breeze graced his body. In the branches above, the birds chirped a gleeful melody that carried through the crisp morning air, a jeering mockery of Kix’s worries. He frowned.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll be back by the afternoon.” Merle half-heartedly reassured him, more focused on closing the breech of the rifle. Even after hearing the satisfying click as it closed, he didn’t look up from his work.
Instead, Merle straightened his back, slinging the rifle strap over his shoulder and adjusting it. As he began striding down to the main camp where all the other adults were, Kix felt a surge of anxiety rush in his chest, and before he knew it, he was scambling urgently to his feet and running after his daddy. Once he caught up to him, which took a while for his much smaller legs, he grabbed onto his father’s hand, whining insistently.
The boy’s tiny fingers wrapped around his father’s, Merle stopped for a moment and gave him a glance. His son’s shiny blue eyes were brimmed with tears, desperate in his fruitless attempts to sway him into staying. It was a look he’d seen before, on Daryl’s face many years ago when Merle left to join the military, leaving Daryl alone with their father at just eleven years old. Back then, he didn’t know the danger he was putting his brother in, and he worried for whatever kind of dangers he might be putting his son in now by leaving him behind. But his concerns were put to rest by his confidence in his brother to take care of Kix and keep him safe for the few hours he’d be gone. A day at the most.
Still, Merle’s chest momentarily panged with guilt. A little reassurance wouldn’t hurt, right?
Grunting with the effort, he leant down and picked his son up, continuing down the dirt trail through the woods, toward where the other residents of the camp were gathering before the run. Personally, Merle wasn’t too happy that the mission was being led by the chinaman, but he was willing to swallow his pride if it meant an easy way into the city.
“Y’aint got nothin’ to worry about. Just a quick run, in and out, tha’s all.” Merle reassured his son as they entered the clearing that made up the centre of the camp. Heads turned as the last members of the group arrived.
“Promise you’ll be safe?” Kix asked, resting his head on his dad’s shoulder when he saw they were drawing nearer to the group.
“Sure. Now quit yer whining.” Merle said more harshly than he’d intended, stopping in front of the group of half a dozen other of the camp’s residents that were also making the trip into the city.
Among them was Glenn Rhee - the asian guy who had made the trip a dozen times before and knew the place like the back of his hand, Morales - a mexican guy who seemed to know his way around a gun, Andrea and Jacqui - two of the women in the camp, and T-Dog - the black guy who always seemed to be getting on Merle’s nerves. No prizes to whoever could guess why that was.
“All ready to go?” Glenn asked the group, his voice strained with anxiety.
As murmurs of agreement chorused throughout the group, Kix glanced around with wide eyes, his grip tightening around his father’s neck.
“Please don’t go.” He mumbled, shaking his head rapidly, “You said the city wasn’t safe!”
“I said it wasn’t safe for a kid. Now, what’d I say, huh? Quit yer whining.” Merle’s tone wasn’t nearly as cruel as the words sounded, and he tried to soothe the troubled boy by rubbing circles in his back, “You’re turnin’ six - what - tomorrow? Ya gotta learn that you can’t always get yer own way.”
Fighting to hold back his tears, Kix’s mind wouldn’t let him rest, replaying all the images he’d seen of the infected and the stories he’d heard from the living on repeat in his head. He whined as his dad set him down on the ground, pushing him off in the direction of his uncle Daryl. The hardened expression on his daddy’s face quelled any protests within him in an instant, and he knew there was no use trying to change his daddy’s mind. It wasn’t like he could try any way, as Daryl’s hands on his shoulder pulled him closer toward him, leaving the boy to helplessly watch his daddy board the truck.
Judging by the other worried and fretful faces that were also watching their friends and family leave for the city, Kix saw that he wasn’t alone.
“Be careful.” Amy said to Andrea, the two sisters sharing a warm embrace before she too climbed into the truck.
The two Morales children clutched onto their mother, Louis biting his nails anxiously and his older sister Eliza furrowing her brows with worry. Everyone was saying goodbye for now, suppressing the fear that it was forever.
It was a big mission, taking so many people on a run into Atlanta, and one that had been in the works for days now, but no amount of meticulous planning could alleviate the weight on Kix’s chest at the sound of the truck’s ignition kicking in. The spin of the tires kicked up clouds of dust in the dirt, sure to leave a thin film of grime on the truck’s rear end by the end of its journey. The vehicle kicked into motion, spluttering forward and beginning to embark down the earthy lane that led out of the Atlanta Base Camp.
Down the winding lane it weaved, further and further, smaller and smaller. For a few moments, everything was still. Nobody said anything. Everyone wondered if they’d made the right call by letting them go.
“Alright, come on. Can’t stand around all day.” Dale said, picking up his oil-stained rag from a tree stump and heading back over to his RV.
The remaining residents began to start their days too, one which couldn’t afford to have people standing around doing nothing. Firewood needed to be collected. Laundry needed to be washed, hung and dried. The RV had repairs that needed doing. Water needed to be purified and distributed. That was how the Atlanta Base Camp stayed afloat - everybody did their bit and they all managed to get by, albeit day to day. As the only ones competent enough in the camp, the Dixons’ roles in the camp were to hunt the deer, possums and squirrel that occupied the surrounding woods. Luckily for Kix, they had some time before they had to go.
“Go play, I’ll call ya when its time ta go.” Daryl said, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder.
Kix nodded solemnly, kicking the dirt and huffing dramatically. It just wasn’t fair!
“Why’d Daddy have ta leave? Why couldn’t he stay here?” Kix asked, unable to rationalise as to why anyone would want to put themselves in danger like that.
For a moment, Daryl stopped what he was doing, deliberating on what to tell him. Of course, Daryl had asked Merle the same thing, knowing it wasn’t like his brother to want to do something for the greater good of the camp. After Merle had explained his reasoning though, Daryl had agreed that it was best Kix didn’t know.
“He’ll tell ya himself when he gets back.” Daryl shrugged. Kix furrowed his brows at the cryptic response, about to enquire further when he heard his name being called.
“Kix! You wanna come play?” Louis Morales and Carl Grimes came running over, Carl looking far brighter than Louis on account of the fact that Mr Morales had also taken the trip into the city, leaving Louis just as fretful as Kix was about his own father.
But beside him, Carl was grinning from ear-to-ear, practically bouncing on his heels when Kix agreed to come and play. Despite being almost twice his age, Carl had become close friends with the Dixon boy in the past two months. Even though he was admittedly scared of Kix’s dad and uncle, having seen how quick Merle’s temper was and how abrasive Daryl could be, Kix himself wasn’t too bad, so long as you didn’t get on his bad side, or make fun of him for being the youngest - The quick fuses and abrasive attitude seemed to run in the family. Carl had learnt that the hard way after, in the first week of knowing Kix, he’d poked fun at him for still being in kindergarten, and hours later found himself being pushed into the quarry when he least expected it. Thankfully, Kix wasn’t strong enough to make him fall in, and was only strong enough to make him stumble and fall into the shallower rocky end and not the freezing depths of water.
They’d moved past that though. Mostly.
“Race you!” Louis declared. He didn’t need to say where they were going - All of them already knew. It was the same place they always went to play, in their own little magical world beyond the trees.
The three boys raced down the dirt path into the centre of the camp, ignoring Lori’s warnings to slow down, and past the RV. They leapt over a fallen tree at the edge of camp and ran past the treeline, into the hundreds of miles of forest that swallowed the comparably miniscule Atlanta Base Camp. Up ahead was a pine-dusted hill, far too steep for them to walk up.
“I won!” Carl declared proudly, coming to a halt before the hill and taking a moment to catch his breath.
“No way! I did!” Louis argued, walking up to where the hill began to steepen and tugging on the roots to find the sturdiest.
“No you both didn’t! I did!” Kix insisted.
“Whatever. Hold this for me.” Louis handed his red triceratops toy to Kix, who stood back with Carl and watched the boy grab onto a tree root sticking out the side of the hill. Admittedly, the hill was only six feet at most, but to the three boys, it felt like climbing Mount Everest.
Once Louis had successfully scaled a good portion of the hill, Kix began to follow after him, watching where Louis had gone before him and following his route, unwilling to take any risks of entrusting a brittle branch or slippery stone. It didn’t take the year-older boy long to be able to place his hands on the a thick tree root that was planted firmly in the top of the hill, hoisting his arms up and then haphazardly lugging the rest of his body up. The ascent took a little bit longer for Kix, who had only just found sturdy footing for his feet.
“Here, grab onto my hand!” Louis offered, leaning down and sticking out one hand.
Kix grabbed onto it, his breath hitching when he felt his weight being pulled up. They’d made the climb a dozen times before, but it never got less scary for the height-fearing five-year-old. What if the soil came loose and he fell? What if he broke his leg and Louis had to run to get help and leave him all alone in the vast, empty forest? What if he wasn’t left so alone at all, and a dead man found him and ate him? In the time that Kix had spent worrying, Louis had helped hoist him up high enough that he could do the rest himself, wriggling the rest of the way until he found himself lying flat on the top of the hill.
The forest floor was soft beneath his cheek, tiny twigs tingling and poking at his face. He rolled over, taking a moment to catch his breath. From here, he felt like a giant compared to the tiny ants that scurried under the kindling, gently tracing his fingers along the sprigs that they cowered beneath. Back in the camp, he was always the smallest out of everyone, but out here, he was a titan. He didn’t even notice that Carl had found his way up too until he felt his foot nudge him in the side.
“Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Carl announced, snapping Kix from his trance. The soon-to-be six-year-old leapt to his feet, brushing the dirt from his jeans.
What the game was actually about, none of them really knew. It was a peculiar concoction made up of pirates and spaceships and aliens and dinosaurs and a whole lot of childish boredom that there seemed to be no end of in this world. Time flew by as they ran through the forest, giggling and shouting, stumbling over roots and winding round the trees until their throats were hoarse and their lungs were spent.
A large oak cast its cool shade over a small clearing, welcoming the boys who they slunk down against it, Kix’s head falling back against the bark as he wondered how much time had passed since they started playing, and if they should start heading back yet. Still his eyes fluttered sleepily, lazily wandering over the cracks of sunlight creeping through the canopy above, golden rays illuminating the smudges of dirt on his hands. The tic-tic of the robins was soothing and melodic, and he let out a heavy exhale, relishing in the soft grass that cushioned his hand that fell to his side, the other one resting on the chilled metal pistol that sat in his gun holster, albeit unloaded. A tiny tingle brought his withering attention to a beetle scurrying across the skin, hurriedly making its journey across before disappearing back into the dirt.
None of them said a word.
“We should probably head back.” Louis pointed out after an unknown amount of time sitting there. Time seemed to slip away out in the woods.
“Yeah. Probably.” Carl said, still not moving.
Kix, however, was already jostling to his feet, gesturing for the older boys to join him.
“I gotta get back to Daryl. We’re s’posed to go huntin’ and I don’t wanna keep him waiting.” Kix said, not looking back at his friends as he started making his way back toward camp, “And by the way, I totally won the race!”