Chapter One
Zoey's not dumb.
She sees how Mom suddenly started pulling away after dad died. Less hugs, less smiles. Eventually, less affection, less attention and then… eventually nothing at all. Zoey lost her dad and her Mom in the same accident… it just took her a while to realize. That doesn’t make her dumb.
Dad always wanted her to succeed in life, so Zoey took school seriously. That didn’t change even after, so Zoey didn’t watch much TV. Her friends slowly drifted away, so she didn’t have anyone to talk to. The only time she accessed the internet was to look up a question, so she didn’t read news reports. She’s smart in the way of books, not in life.
How was I supposed to know..?
She woke up this morning expecting it to be the same day as usual; taking a shower, wrestling with her hair unhappily before giving up, getting dressed and then heading downstairs for breakfast.
Only…
She munches on her granola bar, no cereal or oatmeal left. Mom hasn't gone shopping yet. She's watching the neighbors hurriedly pack their car, yelling back and forth and looking every which way. Something about that… so out of nowhere, it’s odd. So much so she feels her heart start pounding.
Something is wrong.
Mom comes barreling down the stairs, startling Zoey so badly she nearly chokes on the granola. She notices how Mom doesn't even look at her as she hauls everything she's carrying out the door.
"Mom?" Zoey ventures as she follows Mom out the door. "Mom?"
Mom throws her vacation bags into the back seat, swearing up a storm. She pauses to look at Zoey - man, if felt so long since Mom looked at her! - and then continues, faster than before.
"Mom?" Zoey asks again, heart thudding hard. "What are you doing?"
Mom doesn't answer. She throws the last bag in and slams the door shut. Zoey goes to approach but Mom hops into the drivers seat and peels out of the driveway.
"No! Mom!" Zoey screams, dropping her granola and running after the rapidly disappearing car. She comes to a stop on the street, arm thrown out, sobbing. "Mom! Come back! Mom! Mom!"
Zoey feels really dumb right now.
—
Zoey opens her eyes, taking in fire and twisted metal. The world is on fire. She needs to find Harry.
Harry… she thinks, eyes rolling, trying to find him. Where?
She sees a blurry form nearby, tall and lanky. It crouches near a pile of metal and her eyes sharpen just enough to see its a man, hand held out to something just out of her sight. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head. Her vision darkens as he stands and turns to her.
—
It's been two days since Mom left.
Zoey locked up the house tightly and made a camp in the living room. A portion of the curtain in the corner is open to allow her to peak out. There are wrappers everywhere from the granola she ate, the last food in the house. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday.
The shadows at night had never been longer in her life. Terrified of the monsters outside and the monsters inside, Zoey has a hard time sleeping. Her ears strain for the smallest sounds and amplify them in her nightmares. She learns quickly they are attracted to sound and stays quieter than a mouse, too scared to try and leave the house. She’s going to have to soon, though. She’s hungry and thirsty. The power and water stopped working within hours of each other.
The worst part is watching those things walk around, chasing cars and people. Zoey had to hide under her blankets and cover her ears when someone was overwhelmed and consumed to death in her front lawn.
Even through the window and walls, the blanket and her hands, she can hear the man begging someone for help and the wet slurps thereafter.
She had a few graphic nightmares of her being in that man’s place instead.
Zoey startles when desperate pounding sounds out from the front door. A peak out the hole, ignoring the dead man on the lawn, reveals the truck the kind people down the street drive but that doesn't mean anything. Could be anyone out there.
However-
"Zia! Zoey! Are you there?"
Zoey shoots up and races to the front door. Opening it yields the very neighbor she was thinking about, looking so relieved to find her okay.
"Zo, you and your Mom okay?" David asks, stepping into the doorframe to look around.
"It's Zoey," she replies tiredly. "I don't know where Mom is."
She doesn't cry. She's a big girl and big girls don't cry.
"Sorry, Zoey," David says, contrite but distracted. "Zia left? Did she say where?"
Zoey shakes her head, pinching her lips together to keep from crying, "She just… left."
That seems to get through to David, who pauses noticeably. Then, he sighs in aggravation, "That woman! What the fuck?"
David comes to some decision as his wife rolls down the window to yell out, "What's taking so long? Let's go!"
David glances at her with a hand up and turns back to Zoey, "Come on."
Zoey balks, "Come?"
"Yeah," David replies. "You can't stay here anymore. They're evacuating the city. We need to go, it's not safe."
Terror shoots through Zoey but she shoves it down, slipping her runners on and yanking her jacket from the closet. They don't bother locking the door.
—
Zoey wakes to a hand on her shoulder and a man crouching over her. She can hear him speaking but it's like she's listening to him through water, garbled and unintelligible. If only Harry-
"Harry?" Zoey mumbles, trying to look around.
Her eyes land on her brother, face upturned. His eyes are closed and he looks dead. Oh please, no... oh please don't be dead.
"Harry?" Zoey ventures again, pushing away the hands trying to pull her away. "No… please! Harry!" Her throat closes up and she coughs harshly, the thick acrid smoke burning her lungs.
"Kid!" The man whispers harshly, finally decipherable to her ears. "We need to go!"
"No!" Zoey snaps out, reaching for Harry. "Harry!"
"Fuck!" The man blurts out as Zoey escapes his hold and crawls over broken glass and metal to get to her brother. "He's dead! They're coming, we need to go!"
"Then leave me!" Zoey snaps, turning and snarling at the man as he tries to pull her away again. "I'm not leaving without him!"
Zoey is freed to crawl the remaining foot or so. Harry is unconscious and not breathing - as far as Zoey can tell. His bottom half, pelvis to feet, are buried under hot metal. If he is alive, it would be truly miraculous. Zoey knows this but she remains hopeful, so hopeful, that Harry survived.
Please don't let him be dead.
She can't take losing someone else.
The man swears again and then runs around her. She glances up at him, taking in an age lined face and dark hair, seeing him nod and then lift the metal. Zoey catches on immediately, darting in to grasp Harry's upper arms and pull him away from under the wreckage. His leg is turned funny and his other foot is swelled badly but otherwise looks okay. He has scratches and bruises everywhere.
Zoey still doesn't know if he's alive.
The man gently pushes her aside, looking resigned and sticks two fingers into Harry's neck. She watches intently, paused in awkward waiting and lets go of the breath she was holding when the man’s face turns confused, "He's alive."
Thank you…
Snarling has the man turning around and swearing. Zoey catches his arm before he can get up and says, "It's okay. Just ignore them." He looks between her and the oncoming threat with brows raised nearly to his hairline.
Zoey is quick to assure him, "Trust me."
After a moment, he nods, "Okay, little lady. How you feeling? Anything broken?"
Zoey feels absolutely fine, except sore because ow, crashing helicopters actually hurts. "I'm fine. Can we move him?"
The man eyes the biters now investigating the burning wreckage, "Probably not but it's not like we can take him to the hospital." His response gets slower and slower as he realizes… the dead aren't even looking at them. He inhales and pauses, pointing at them, "That's… not normal. What the fuck?"
Zoey doesn't even bother looking, "Can you carry him?"
"If you carry my bag, I could," he replies truthfully. "We need to set his leg and ankle first, bind 'em.”
Zoey pops up, ignoring the twinge in her chest, "Please."
Taken aback by the quick request, he considers and then nods, handing his bag over carefully, "Be careful with that, yes? Very important cargo."
Zoey nods, keeping her questions to herself. She gently shoulders the bag and keeps her arm over it to keep it from moving. The man looks around and grabs a few long pieces of metal, setting them down next to Harry. He doesn't go far, eyeing the biters surreptitiously as he pokes around. Two wires and his belt later, Harry's leg and ankle are set and bound between metal.
"That will do for now," the man tells her.
Zoey watches the man maneuver Harry over his shoulders. The position looks far from comfortable but it's more important to get Harry to safety. The man sends discreet glances at the biters now swarming the wreckage and continues to be more and more impressed with whatever powers are at play to keep them away.
She grasps a shard of metal, just in case.
Once the man has Harry on his shoulders, he turns to leave, "So, can I ask how all this is happening right now?"
Zoey thinks, looking around. She doesn't feel safe talking about this out in the open. She doesn't even know where she is. "Can it wait?"
The man gives her a look, "Are you leading me on?"
Zoey frowns in confusion, "What?"
The man rolls his eyes, "Are you trying to trick me?"
Completely taken aback, Zoey looks at him with rising incredulousness, "You just pulled two kids from a crashed helicopter and you are asking me if I'm trying to trick you? Dude, I don't even know you! I don't know where I am. I don't know if my brother is going to survive and you are worried about a thirteen year old trying to trick you."
Zoey did not mean to let all of that out. It just… tumbles out of her mouth as she tries to push down the rising feelings of anger and helplessness.
The man looks like he regrets saying anything, "Okay, sorry. Sounds like you two have had a rough couple of days."
Zoey laughs, high pitched and on the edge of hysteria, "Dude, we've had a rough fucking month, okay?"
The man nods in understanding, eyeing the biters lining the street that are just… walking past, "I think everyone has."
Zoey starts shivering, feeling exhaustion creeping in. The man notices and offers, "There's a sweater in the bag. Just be careful about taking it out."
Zoey glances up at him and then back down to the bag. She opens the top zipper and grasps a dark colored sweater. Underneath it is several white baggies with yellow labels on them, Chemotherapy staring back up at her in big bold letters. Instead of asking, she closes the bag back up and pulls the sweater on. The man had been watching her, looking relieved she didn't.
The walk is long, at least to Zoey. She doesn't know where they’re going and hopes it isn't much further. Harry hasn't woken once and yet again, she's worried over him. He should have at least mumbled in his sleep about now but nothing. Silence.
She hates the quiet.
Zoey doesn't know what she's going to do without Harry. It's like she placed him at every step of her life, waiting to hug her with a smile. It's inconceivable that Harry might not be there in the future. It's impossible. Harry has to survive. He has to.
"What's your name, little lady?" The man asks after they leave the downtown area and head into the suburbs.
"Zoey," she replies easily, eyes on Harry. "He's Harry."
"I'm Negan," he says soberly. "Not much further now, okay? Think you can make it?"
Zoey nods, "I'm fine."
Negan glances down at her, his eyes raking over her burnt and torn clothes, "Truly a miracle that you escaped that with no injuries. Someone must have been watching over you."
Yeah, Harry was. Stupid bonehead.
"I'm glad you will make it just fine," Negan announces with a grimace. "Not sure if my back is going to. I'm too old to be carrying around heavy ass teenagers."
Zoey can't help giggling at the self recriminations. Negan shoots her a grin, as if aiming to make her laugh and then is distracted by a house with a biter outside.
"Agh! Not again!" Negan whines, looking around for something.
"I'll take care of it," Zoey says, dodging around his grab.
"Shit! Don't!" Negan demands and swears when she doesn’t listen.
Zoey grips her shard of metal tightly. The biter turns at their voices, mouth open and rotten. It lurched towards them. Zoey pauses and tenses, waiting for it to get close enough. She trips it once it's in reach and viciously stabs the metal into its head. The biter gurgles as it lays still.
Negan whistles low and long, "Jesus, kid. You are fucking scary."
Zoey gives him a bland look, "It was one biter."
"Still!" Negan insists as he leads her to the back door. "I don't know many teenagers brave enough to face one, much less kill one! The key is in my pocket."
Zoey reaches into the indicated pocket and pulls the keyring out. Negan instructs her on which key, face red from strain and she unlocks it as fast as she can. When open, she holds the door as Negan maneuvers himself and Harry through, taking extra care not to drop the still unconscious teenager or hit any vulnerable parts.
Negan instructs her on where to go, directing her to a door leading to the basement. The bottom door opens just as she gets to it, startling her badly.
"Oh!" A woman greets her suddenly. "Negan? Who is this-oh my god, is he okay?"
"Move!" Negan grunts out, apparently at the end of his endurance. Zoey and the woman both quickly make way for Negan to pass them, heading straight for the couch.
"Oh dear," the woman says, hand going over her mouth. She peels her eyes from Negan to Zoey and actually takes in her appearance. "Oh, you poor child! Come in, sit!"
Zoey is just a little too overwhelmed to do anything but allow the woman to guide her into the kitchen. Negan groans as he sets Harry down, straightening to crack his back. Zoey can hear the painful cracks. The woman sets a full cup of clear water in front of her and moseys over to Negan with another.
"Thanks, hon," Negan says gratefully, drinking from the glass as his free arm winds around her waist.
Zoey figures the water is safe enough to drink and downs the entire glass.
"I thought we said, 'no strays'," she replies in a teasing tone, smiling up at him as she places a hand on his chest.
Negan winces, "We~ll, they were technically in a crash-"
"A crash?" She gasps, glancing back at Zoey. "Is that why-?"
Zoey stands as they talk, approaching Harry and frowning at the uncomfortable position he's in. She busies herself with maneuvering her heavy ass brother so he's more comfortable. She eyes the thin space between Harry and the back of the couch. She’s small and skinny enough. For the first time, she’s grateful for her size.
"Sweetie?"
Zoey glances up. The woman, Negan's wife, smiles comfortingly, "Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"
Zoey doesn't want to leave Harry and shakes her head.
"Kid, he's not going anywhere," Negan says in a low grumble. "You'll feel better after a shower."
Zoey whips her head around, eyes wide, "You guys have working water? Working… hot water?"
The woman smiles tightly and nods, "Yeah, we have a little slice of heaven right here."
Zoey dithers, staring at them blankly before dropping her eyes back down to Harry. What if he wakes up? What if he attacks them, thinking the worst? Zoey can't bring herself to leave Harry, even for a hot shower.
"No," Zoey says plainly. "I'm staying with Harry."
When Negan and the woman try to push it, Zoey takes a page out of Harry's book and ignores them. Certainly not something she should be doing to the people who are being so kind and generous but… Zoey isn't in any mood for any shit. Her brother still hasn't woken up, she doesn't know if he's going to, she doesn't know where they are and if the military are going to charge in, guns blazing. She's stressed and anxious and terrified and she just wants her brother to be okay.
"Would you at least eat something?" The woman asks kindly after their previous pleas are ignored.
Zoey shakes her head, for the first time feeling nauseous at the thought of eating. The woman tuts and Zoey has had enough. She silently crawls over Harry's still, still body and curls into the space next to him.
"Oh, hey, careful-" the woman blurts out.
"I know," Zoey snaps then, fed up. "I won't hurt him."
"Hey, watch it, kid," Negan almost growls.
Zoey picks her head up, "Or what? You gonna kick me out? Discipline me? Hurt us?"
Negan and the woman exchange helpless glances, not knowing how to deal with a surly teenager. Zoey moodily rolls her eyes and tucks her face into Harry's shoulder. She hears them talking in low tones as their voices get a little further away; Negan telling his wife about the helicopter crash.
Harry's scent, though layered with blood and fire, is comforting. Zoey starts to relax in increments, the low murmuring from far away like white noise that lulls her into a doze.
—
"Knock knock."
Zoey rolls her eyes, "Who's there?"
"Banana."
Zoey levels David with a flat look.
David grins, unrepentant, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror, "Come on! Banana!"
Zoey sighs, playing along, "Banana who?"
"Knock knock."
Lips thinning to contain her rising humor and curiosity, Zoey replies, "Who's there?"
"Banana," David says with an eyebrow waggle.
Zoey can't help the small smile that springs across her lips as she asks, "Banana who?"
"Knock knock!"
She grins this time, "Who's there?"
"Ora~nge," David sing-songs with a wide, mischievous grin.
"Orange who?"
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?"
Zoey laughs, finally coaxed into one. Jocelyn laughs with her. David grins, looking at Zoey through the rear-view mirror.
The world suddenly explodes.
Zoey ducks and screams, barely hearing Jocelyn's screaming and David's swearing as they swerve to an abrupt stop. Zoey jerks into the seatbelt, feeling it catch and tie her to the seat. Her eyes are tightly shut in terror. Sharp whistling, explosions, screaming; the truck rocks with the aftershocks. Intense heat licks the sides of the vehicle, warming the inside as the world ends outside.
Then, slowly, everything goes quiet.
Zoey whimpers as she peeks out from the leather. She sees David and Jocelyn, unconscious against the airbags. The view from the windshield is several shades of gray, interspersed with flashes of red and orange. As Zoey watches, figures emerge from the smoke, on fire or smoking as they hobble around. One turns to look around, jaw opening and closing, half its face burnt away to show bone.
Zoey is paralyzed.
It moves on. Zoey can breathe again but the air inside the truck is stifling. She has a hard time getting a full breath. She shakily reaches out to David and pokes him in the back.
David groans but doesn't move and doesn't wake. The sound does wakes Jocelyn, who moans and hisses as she slowly sits up. Her hand grips her forehead and her face is twisted in pain but she's alive.
I'm not alone.
—
When Zoey wakes, it's to a full bladder and an arm around her shoulders. When her sleepy mind connects the arm to Harry, she looks up in excitement but disappointment creeps in when he's still asleep. However, she tries to remain positive. Harry moved his arm, he will wake up soon. She just has to be patient.
She can be patient.
Zoey carefully crawls off Harry, feeling much better and more centered than earlier. She is still quite anxious about her brother but the overwhelming anxiousness over their situation is no longer so daunting. In fact, she feels guilt settle in on how she treated Negan and his wife when they were only trying to help.
A nearby door is open a sliver, the light beyond catching Zoey's attention. She pads to the door on quiet feet, peeking inside. She sees Negan and his wife on their bed and nearly backs away to preserve their privacy but something catches her eye.
Negan is focusing intently on something connected to a short dark brown tube that connects to his wife. The yellow and white bag she had seen in the pack Negan let her carry is hooked into a metal pole, looking half full. It seems to be draining into the tube and then into her but… why? Is she sick? What was that stuff called? Something-therapy. Zoey doesn't know what that is.
She backs away from the door quietly and goes in search of a bathroom.
After washing up, Zoey returns to Harry. She's mildly disappointed he's not awake yet. Her eyes search his face, suddenly aware of something missing but unsure what until her eyes stop on his. His glasses are gone! That's really not good. She knows exactly how blind Harry is without those.
Zoey has no doubt they were destroyed in the crash. Their packs were taken but nothing else was. All things considered, the fact that she had made it out of there unscathed told her that Harry did something stupid. Something monumentally stupid that she's going to be so angry over but she can't be angry because she's alive. She's so angry and grateful and terrified and nervous and she wishes that Harry is awake!
Of course, only Harry can wish for things and they come true.
She remembers being comforted by his constant mumbling. Two days of silence when she's used to sound made her dislike the quiet. Harry doesn't know how much he mumbles and it continues to be a great source of comfort to her. She never had to guess what's going through his mind because he spills all of his thoughts out for anyone to listen.
She knows he loves her because he occasionally says so, out of nowhere. She knows he prefers honey and lemon with his tea because the topic of tea happened to come up. He prefers the color blue, he doesn't like bullies, he learned how to braid for someone named Lily and he once called her Hermione. Zoey thinks Hermione might be a friend of his from his home country.
Zoey would feel bad about Harry being so far away from his loved ones but…
But Harry is here, with her. She feels incredibly selfish.
Besides, he never mentions going home. He never talks about any other friends or relatives he might be missing. No fond recollections of people or places he wants to visit again. Something would have been said on the matter by now, Harry doesn't have a filter when he mumbles. It's so amusing.
"Hey, how'd you sleep?"
Zoey startles, flinching hard as she turns around. Her heart hammers in her chest at the scare.
"Whoa, hey! Sorry, Zo, didn't mean to-" Negan, dressed in a loose shirt and sleep pants, looks a little guilty for inadvertently scaring her.
"It's Zoey," she blurts out, annoyance lacing her tone. She calms, turning back to watch Harry sleep.
"Whew, kid, I'm not going to hurt ya, you know. There's no need to be so hostile."
"I'm not-" Zoey sighs harshly looking at him. "Only my dad and Harry can call me Zo. Since you are neither, it's Zoey. I'm annoyed because everyone thinks they can call me Zo. I don't go around calling you Neg or Gan."
Negan's brows go up, "Well, to be fair, you haven't actually said my name yet."
Zoey giggles, amused against her will. His point is a fair one, if funny. "You know what I mean."
He tilts his head a little and then nods, "That's fair. Okay then, Zoey, you want some food?"
Right on cue, her stomach gurgles, pinching with pain. She covers her tummy with both hands, blushing a little as he chuckles, "I'll take that as a yes. What kinda beast you have trapped in there to make that kind of sound?"
"The hungry kind," Zoey snarks, padding closer to the kitchen.
Negan holds up his hand, making her stop short, "Ah! If you want to eat, you need to make an effort to clean up. Lucille hemmed a few clothes for you to change into after a shower."
Confusion settles over her, "... Lucille made me clothes?"
Negan nods, herding her towards the bathroom with a gentle hand on her upper back, "She figured you guys had nothing to wear, so she hemmed some of our smaller clothes for you." That is… very generous. Now she feels really bad at how she treated them last night, doubly so because Negan is making a genuine effort to make her feel comfortable.
Negan opens a side closet, pulling out two towels. He drops them in her arms and pushes her into the bathroom, "Get clean, you stink. I'll grab those clothes and put them outside the door, okay?"
All Zoey can do is utter, "Okay."
Negan closes the door, leaving her alone.
The hot water felt so good after so many cold showers. She washes her hair twice and conditions thoroughly. After she's done rinsing, she wraps her hair in one towel and dries off using the other. The clothes Negan mentioned were sitting on the floor outside the door. A peek around shows Negan and Lucille distracted by cooking. She grabs the clothes and shuts the door quickly.
The clothes were still too big but fit well enough. She uses the stretchy belt to keep her jeans up. The shirt fit her best, considering. The long sleeves are hemmed a tad too short but she preferred having her wrists clear and the rest of the shirt is long enough to tuck into her pants. She even has some socks, though she has to roll them a bit to fit.
Hair still wrapped and used towel hanging to dry, Zoey leaves the bathroom with her dirty clothes tucked under her arm. The house smells amazing. She pads quietly into the kitchen to sit at the table, clothes in her lap. She watches Negan and Lucille fondly bicker back and forth, achingly reminded of her own parents. Her Mom and dad used to do the same thing, playfully fighting over coffee and breakfast. Mom was so happy back then…
Lucille turns around and startles with an, "Oh, Jesus!" She stumbles back into the counter, hand coming up to her chest.
Zoey smiles at the reaction, "No, Zoey."
Negan glances over and laughs, "She's got you there, hon."
"Oh shut up," Lucille snips, smacking Negan lightly on the shoulder. He laughs again as she turns back to Zoey. "Sorry, Zoey. Didn't hear you come in. You feel better?"
Zoey nods, feeling that guilt creeping back in. She clasps her hands together on top of the table and fiddles with her fingers. "Yes, thank you for the clothes and… I'm sorry, for earlier."
Lucille and Negan exchange quick glances, Negan shrugging as he turns back to his cooking. She smiles at Zoey, "You're welcome, I'm glad they fit. As for earlier…" Lucille came around to the table and sat down carefully. "Negan filled me in on how he found you two. I understand why you were like that, so it's okay."
Zoey feels her shoulders sag a little in relief.
"Mind if I ask why you guys were in that helicopter?" Lucille asks gently. Negan begins taking out plates and cups from the cupboards.
Zoey glances at Harry-still asleep. He hasn't moved at all. Zoey feels anxious all over again. "I don't want to talk about it."
Lucille nods, leaning back a little from the table and smiling, "That's alright."
"For now," Negan interjects, bringing plates to the table. "We eat. We can talk after food and maybe a movie."
"Movie?" Zoey inquires, distracted from her food. She watches Negan sit down next to Lucille, fork in hand. "What kind of movie?"
Negan levels her with a fond look, "Why don't you eat and find out?"
Zoey narrows her eyes at him and deliberately spears something on her plate. Without breaking eye contact, she puts it in her mouth and chews. She doesn't know what she ate, it tastes fine but Negan chuckles, shaking his head. Once she swallows, she says evenly, "What kind of movie?"
Negan barks out a laugh, turning to an amused Lucille, "You get this kid?"
"You did say eat," Lucille says back serenely, picking up her cup. "You didn't say how much."
Negan scoffs in mock outrage. Lucille takes a sip of her water and winks at Zoey. The whole exchange made her giggle. Negan shakes his head and grumbles about wily women in his life.
"Eat your food and you can go pick the movie, okay?" Lucille tells her.
"Hey, wait a minute-!"
"Shh!" Zoey holds up her finger to Negan, mimicking Harry. "Adults are speaking."
Lucille bursts into laughter, tears of mirth springing forth as she doubles over. Negan utters a shocked, hurt sound, glancing between Zoey and Lucille with betrayal. Zoey breaks down into giggles.
"I don't think anyone has ever called you a kid to your face before," Lucille giggles out, wiping her cheeks and reaching out to poke Negan's grumpy face. "Suiting, seeing you pouting like one."
Negan pretends to nip at the finger, prompting Lucille to pull back with a playful grin.
"Fine, Zoey can choose the movie," Negan rumbles as he digs back into his food. He looks at her through narrowed eyes. "No Disney movies!"
—
Zoey ignores the grumbling on the other couch as Aladdin plays on the screen. She's cuddled into Harry's side again, head pillowed on her hand as she watches Aladdin release the Genie. Her favorite part had always been the utter ridiculousness Genie spouts as he introduces himself.
After the horrors of the past month and a half, it was nice to shut off her mind and zone out. The last time she watched Aladdin was before her dad died. After, she thought herself too old to watch kids movies but now…
Even with Harry still out and with complete strangers, Zoey feels content. She wants to show Harry all these amazing movies he missed growing up. She wants to share the magic and wonder she felt growing up. Harry deserves to have good things too.
"Wouldn't it be nice to wish it gone?" Negan mumbles to Lucille, only audible to Zoey because the movie was so quiet. They are curled up together on the other couch.
"Yeah…" Lucille sighs. "Be better for both of us, I think."
"Both of us?"
"So you aren't risking your life trying to find more. I know they are getting harder to find."
"Let me worry about that," Negan tells her firmly.
Zoey wonders what they are talking about. What is getting harder to find? Does it have anything to do with what she saw earlier? She glances at them but they've stopped talking, eyes on the TV. Zoey ponders as she does the same, taking in Prince Ali and his ragtag Troupe.
She doesn't see the end of the movie.
—
"Zoey, you okay?" Jocelyn asks, sounding a bit raspy. She's holding her head, eyes tightly closed.
"I'm okay," Zoey replies in a small voice. "Is David-?"
That makes Jocelyn look at David, blinking excessively. Blood drips down the side of her head. She reaches out, arm a bit wavy, with a timid, "Dave?"
Her hand lands on his shoulder and crawls up to his neck, lightly slapping his cheek, "Dave?"
Dave groans again, his eyelids fluttering. She slaps his cheek a little harder and he grunts, fully opening his eyes. Only to close them a second later, brows scrunching, "Damn, what happened?"
His hand clumsily comes up to his face to hold his head as Jocelyn hiccups and giggles. Zoey eyes her in concern, the blood drawing her gaze and increasing her worries.
"Oh, shit Dave," Jocelyn says, leaning over further. "You scared the shit out of me."
David sits up fully, still holding his head. From what she can see, he's not bleeding but he's squinting hard. He looks out the window intently and suddenly stills.
"Dave," Jocelyn giggles, her eyes rolling. "I think the world ended."
Zoey looks at Jocelyn in shock. Why is she acting like that? "Jocelyn? Are you okay?"
Jocelyn turns around, her eyes going wide. Zoey can see one pupil is much bigger than the other. "Zoey? How'd you get there?"
"He needs help," David says, out of nowhere. He's pawing at the door clumsily.
Jocelyn turns back around and looks as well, "I'll help."
Zoey feels paralyzed again, fear choking her throat and arresting the don't leave me that she so desperately wanted to utter. They both open their doors nearly simultaneously and slide out. David pauses - Jocelyn slamming hers shut - turning back to look at Zoey from between the frame and seat, "I'll be right back. Okay?"
The door slams shut and he's gone.
Zoey can't breathe.
David and Jocelyn are gone. She sees stars creeping into her vision as she turns her eyes to look outside. David is approaching someone on the street, hunched over and making weird motions. The terror spikes, seizing her chest as the person whips around and tackles David to the ground. Zoey wants to scream as Jocelyn stumbles over and then trips, landing harshly. She can't tear her eyes away from watching one of those things crawl over her. Jocelyn’s limbs jerk, jerk, jerk-
-and still.