Chapter Text
He jumps.
Water invades his lungs, and he feels like his brain is going to explode, but the pain tells him he is still alive. Pushing against the current, 10K reaches the surface and pulls his body onto the land. He tries to breathe in, but he chokes, coughing up the water stuck in his throat. Once its all out, he heaves and sucks in the air sharply.
10K grunts, rolling over onto his back to calm his breathing. He blinks, his blurry vision focusing at the sky. Propping himself up on his elbows, he tries to find Doc, or anyone, but only see's a piece of the boat sink into the river. 10K groans, and like a response, he hears a replication of the noise. He twists his body around quickly, and a Z nearly two feet away trudges towards him. His slow reaction doesn't help, but he scrambles to find the rifle missing from his back.
Ironically, it's just a few steps away, but the Z is almost towering over him. 10K pushes himself up with his hands and trips to get his weapon, the zombie growling, clutching his foot. He kicks it off, reaching for the gun's strap. He pulls it from the shallow water and set's it against his cheek. It's such close contact, that when he exhales and pulls the trigger, the gunshot rings in his water filled ears. 10K watches the Z fall over, and he knows it won't be long until more hear and find him. Despite his ringing ears, and his panting breaths, he still manages to choke out a few words:
"Three-thousand two hundred and fifty-six."
He reloads, picks a direction, and walks.
10K counts, like he always does, his kills. He also counts the days. It's been 12 days in total, his count increasing 47 more since the river. He's worried, but not about himself. He's worried that Doc thinks he's dead and the others told him to move on. He's worried that Murphy's spitting on his imaginary grave, and that he might starve to death. He's scared that if he dies he'll see Cassandra.
10K tries not to think too much, raising his rifle to kill two more Z's and muttering under his breath his count. He shrugs his bag off his back, opening it and taking out his bottle of water, emptying the last bit into his mouth and swallowing. He rubs the back of his mouth with his hand, and continues walking despite his sweating. He probably should've saved the water, but his throat was so dry he couldn't help himself. If Doc was here he would tell him to save it.
Stop it, he thinks. Keep moving.
It's like a maze, 10K thinks, because for the past two weeks he's seen in nothing but forest. He hasn't eaten in two days, and he's getting sick of the color green. But he keeps going, because that's all he can do. Move, kill Z's, and stay alive. He groans, pushing back a bush to move it out of his way, and if by some miracle, he notices a dirt road not that far away. Silently praying to whoever is listening, 10K picks up his pace to reach the road. When he does, he sighs contently, turning–
And is faced with two cocked guns, atop a wall at least a couple feet high, aimed straight at him. The people that arm them look the least bit friendly, their faces hard, predatory. On instinct, his hands move to grip his rifle, and the woman with the ball cap presses her gun forward.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she growls. 10K gulps, moving his hands back into the air in defense. The man next to her looks hesitant, but he speaks nonetheless.
"Put down your weapon."
He doesn't question it, sliding his rifle off his back and onto the ground, but he checks his back for any surprise Z attacks. When it's clear, he turns back around to face the wall, and probably his doom. The pair seems to relax a bit, but they don't lower the guns. He didn't expect them too. The man leans over and whispers something to the woman.
It's just a kid, is what he hears, and her brows furrow, ignoring him, turning back to 10K.
"What do you want?" She says, followed by, "why are you here?"
He knows he has the answers, but he feels hot and anxious despite himself. He swallows and calms down before responding, hoping he won't get shot right on the spot.
"I'm looking for my group," he says slowly, "I got lost trying to find them."
It seems like it works, because they share glances and the woman tells him, "Open the gates. Get Rick," and 10K has a feeling he probably should've gone in a different direction.
He goes to grab his rifle, but he's aimed at again, and he pulls away quickly. He feels a nervous lump in his throat, but he swallows it down. 10K's not one to get nervous, but with the threat of instant death, his mind betrays him with worse thoughts.
"Stay there, don't move." Snaps the woman, and he complies, hands unwavering in the air.
He's perfectly still when he hears the creaking of metal, and the pull open of the tall gate. It seems like forever, and 10K can finally see the inside of the camp, but when the gates open completely, he decides on the word community instead. His jaw falls in surprise, wondering how people survived with so much for so long. He closes his mouth when he realizes he's being stared at by hard suspicious faces. Everyone he see's has a hand on their weapons, and 10K figures they mean business.
He swallows when a man steps up to face him, gaze sharp. Rick, he guesses, the leader.
"So," starts the man, and 10K is already intimidated, "what's your name kid?"
He doesn't say anything, his eyes narrowing. "Ten thousand," he says.
Its like the malice in Rick's eyes is gone for a split second, filled with confusion. He glances at a dark skinned woman behind him, then back to 10K. His eyes are dangerous once again, gripping his handgun on his thigh.
"Your real name, kid."
"My name is ten thousand," he growls, wishing his rifle was in his arms. He adds quietly, "but my friends call me 10K."
The man is surprised once again, but he continues his list of inquiries. "You lost your group?"
10K nods slowly, eyeing the woman still aiming at him from above. He glances back down to Rick, and gestures up with his hands. "Do you mind?"
Rick is hesitant, but he holds his hand up, and the woman lowers her gun, glaring down at him. 10K lowers his hands to his sides, tempted to reach for his rifle again, but he keeps still.
He sighs and relaxes a bit. "We crashed a boat heading to Memphis."
Immediately, Rick is shocked. "Memphis? How long have you been traveling?"
"Twelve days."
"Twelve days?" He repeats, like he hasn't heard him right. "And you're still looking?"
"Why wouldn't I?" 10K asks, automatically offended. "We're a group." He glances down and adds, "family."
Rick's gaze softens, but he still asks a question that makes everyone tense. "Are you with Negan?"
10K shakes his head. "Who?"
"The Saviors ring any bells?"
"No."
Rick looks back at everyone, who is still suspicious of him, but before anyone can speak up, he interrupts.
"I can leave, I was just passing through."
The lady with the katana and Rick get into a discussion, and he can't hear much of it, but Rick turns back around.
"You can come in, but we still have to ask you a few questions."
He swallows nervously. "A few questions?"
Rick smiles, just a bit, but for some reason it still doesn't make him feel any better. "Just three."
10K contemplates for a moment, glancing around at the survivors in front of him. It's a bad idea, he has to get back to Doc and Warren, but these people look so tired and intimidating that it makes 10K think of himself. He nods in confirmation.
"Okay."
Rick motions him to come in, and he picks up his rifle hesitantly, slinging it over his shoulder. His goggles slip a bit, so he adjusts them. He wants to laugh at how ridiculous he probably looks, but his throat is dry and his stomach growls in protest. But food can wait, he decides, because he can feel the glares pierce into him hard, and right now isn't the time to eat.
They lead him through, and 10K feels his jaw hang, so he snaps it shut. Rick must've noticed, because he turns to him and says,
"Welcome to Alexandria."
10K feels his gut twist, and maybe it's just the hunger, but he has a feeling he just made a huge mistake.