Chapter Text
“Keep walking,” Javi had said as he walked away. “No one’s stopping you.”
And David had done what he always did. He obeyed orders.
There’d been some more words after that. Something about legacies, the kind he wanted to leave behind. David’s mind had been so fuzzy, so full of regrets and bitterness and everything that could’ve been different… it was hard to remember the details.
Even if someone had put a gun to his head and demanded David tell them how he got out of the city, he wouldn’t have been able to explain it.
He just… walked. Streets that just minutes ago had been swarming with walkers were empty.
David kept on walking. Until he’d traded the urban ruins for decaying suburban sprawl.
Night fell, and David found himself a house to hide away in for the night. A place to brood over all of it.
At one point he could’ve sworn that he heard horses thundering past out in the street, but David ignored it.
Maybe he was losing his mind. That would explain… some things.
…No. No. David had no one and nothing to blame but himself. He knew that much at least.
No one but himself to blame for Kate hating him. For nearly killing his brother, even after he’d made it clear there was no affair. For his own son being terrified of him, that his dad would get him killed. Even Mariana… that was David’s fault, too. If he’d kept a better handle on his soldiers…
David fell asleep that night curled on the hard, cold floor, playing back every single failure in his mind over and over until exhaustion caught up with him.
In the morning, David took a moment to think.
If Kate and the others had figured out a plan, New Richmond could’ve been saved by now.
Or they were all dead. The rest of David’s family swallowed up in the herd. Just another failure.
For just a second, David thought about turning back. About checking in, just long enough to see if they’d made it out alive.
‘Keep walking,’ his brother had said.
He’d never done a good job of listening to his family. That, at least, was something David could change. This one last opportunity to honor their wishes.
David kept walking, until he’d left Richmond and his family long behind.
He didn’t really have a plan after that. He just… walked.
David slept when he needed to sleep. Fought walkers when he needed to fight. Ate, when he needed to eat and there was actually food available.
From the change in temperature, David could guess that he was moving south. Aside from that, he was lost, and couldn’t really bring himself to care.
Some basic survival instincts remained. David avoided the cities. Kept to the outskirts of small towns. Stayed quiet as much as he could. Fought only when he needed to.
It wasn’t that David cared about staying alive. More that he was on autopilot. Muscle memory.
He did the minimum needed to survive. But when walkers closed in, or David went a little too long without food, he just couldn’t find it in himself to… to feel anything about it.
Empty. Hollowed out. Those were good words for it.
But eventually, even the small towns began to fade away, replaced by deep forests, brooks and rivers. All the trees had long been stripped bare of leaves as winter approached. Even as far south as he probably was now, David could feel the bite of the cold.
How long had it been? Weeks? A month? It was at least a month, probably more.
All the time just kinda blended together when you did the same things every day. Walk. Eat. Fight. Sleep.
As he moved deeper into the wilderness, David continued to scavenge where he could from rotting sheds and abandoned campsites. Barely anything was left, taken by animals or other survivors.
Hunting had never been in his skillset, even before the New Frontier had settled down in Richmond. He could shoot for sure but he’d ran out of ammo a long time ago. And tracking was just beyond him. Anything he managed to catch was caught more by luck than anything else. It was barely enough to keep him going.
Once, after spending the night in a cold shed with dirt for a floor, David managed to catch a raccoon that had snuck in for its own rest.
After he’d mangled the thing to pieces trying to skin and prepare the carcass, David roasted what was left on an open fire.
Half of it was charred and burnt. The other half was practically still raw.
David ate it all, barely even registering the taste.
That was the last meal David had for the next few days. He’d found a river to drink from on his hands and knees, but that was it.
He was more exhausted than usual, even with his constant travel. Probably the lack of food. Or maybe the raccoon had made him sick. Hard to tell.
His clothes were sticky, damp with old sweat and plastered with dried blood. David hadn’t changed his clothes since he’d left Richmond; never seen the point.
David’s legs had finally been ready to quit on him when he saw it.
A cabin. Nestled between a few hills, surrounded by trees on all sides with the overgrown remnants of a dirt road leading up to it. Two stories, sloped roof. Almost in pristine condition, which felt like a joke considering the state of the rest of the world.
David shuffled listlessly up a set of stairs onto a raised deck, and curled his hand around the handle of the front door.
Inside was a different story.
Not that the place was smashed, or torn apart or anything. But it was obvious no one had been here in years. Dust covered every surface; it was thick in the air.
Floorboards creaked under David’s worn boots as he checked the cabin room by room, more out of habit than anything else.
Dishes were still stacked in the kitchen sink, all traces of food long-since eaten by bugs.
A few cans had been left behind in the cabinets, enough to keep him going for another few days at least.
In the living room, an old flannel shirt was draped over one of the couches. There was a chess board on the coffee table, an unfinished game still sitting where it had been left off.
There were even more signs of old habitation in the bedrooms. Board games. A watch in one of the drawers. A small collection of books. A list of what looked like baby names.
People had lived here, maybe even after the world ended.
But they were long gone now.
David didn’t fully understand why, but he decided to stick around. Out there were only more trees and wilderness and the cold.
In here it was… still cold. But not as cold. There was some food. Blankets. Protection from the dead.
This was as good a place as any to hole up, at least for a while.
Good a place as any to die, too, if it came to that.
And so, David stayed in the cabin. The days grew colder and the nights grew longer, but still he remained right where he was.
Not living. Not dying. Just… persisting.
All the while, wondering why he even bothered. What the point of it all was.
Maybe there was no point. Just his own cowardice, keeping him from letting it all end. One last mistake in a long line of them.
Maybe one of these days, David would need to man up and let go. Accept what he deserved.
One of these days…