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vizhi0n · 7 years ago

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Sawney - Part 37

Chapter Masterlist

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HELLLO.

Okay I’m so so sorry for being so annoying with this bc I legit update every day, sometimes twice a day and I don’t want to annoy anyone. So if I am let me know srsly I can take it. But anywho, I hope ya’ll enjoy this chapter. It’s probably one of my favs and I’m super proud of how it turned out. Thank you guys so much for reading - we’re essentially in the final stretch of this fic now.

Warnings: Gore, language. Fun stuff.

“We start moving when the sun sets,” Alpha said. She glanced back down at Carl, then Desa. “We take these two with us.”

“We’re taking the bus, correct?”

“The herd is too far out. No amount of noise will be able to redirect them from our position,” Alpha explained. “The girl is with us, now. We’ll execute the boy if he causes too much trouble. Until then, he is an investment with potential.”

Carl was groaning, holding his ribcage. Dried blood caked his lips and nose. Desa was hovering over the boy, shielding him with her own body as Beta and Alpha surveyed them as if they were prey.

“Load them up.”

Desa and Carl were dragged. The bus was parked by the tree line, its colors old and worn down. The yellow had been sprayed with graffiti, the windows smashed in. One of the Whisperer’s remained up front, while the other two ushered Carl and Desa to their seats.

A shout.

Desa and Carl’s head whipped to the side. They craned their necks, trying to see where the sound had come from.

“That’s my dad!” Carl hissed. One of the Whisperer’s stepped closer, but that didn’t deter Carl from rising to his feet so he could get a better look.

He wasn’t wrong. Rick was standing before Alpha and Beta, an almost casual tilt to his hips. Desa’s eyes narrowed — there was no way he’d come alone. Then again, the man was bold, and stubborn as a mule. He was clearly outnumbered, and the Whisperer’s behind Beta and Alpha had perked up, hands on their weapons.

It had to be a trap.

“Sit down,” one of the Whisperer’s planted a firm hand on Carl’s shoulder, pushing the boy back into the seat.

When Desa turned back to look out the window, something had gone wrong. Whether it was intentional or not, Rick was diving to the ground as bullets began to fly, all coming from the direction of the trees. Desa ducked, before lifting her head to peer out once more.

Alpha and Beta were running. And then, appearing behind Rick, was the one person she’d been longing to see.

“Negan!” Desa screamed as loud as she could. His head whipped to the side and he shouted something. Again, Desa yelled, “Ne—”

She was cut off mid word. One of the Whisperer’s backhanded her, but she snapped forward and clamped down, hard, upon his exposed wrist. Her teeth pierced the skin and he screamed, just as Alpha and Beta burst onto the bus.

“Drive!” Alpha snarled.

Desa released the Whisperer. The bus was assaulted with bullets, and she promptly fell to the floor. Carl did the same. It was too late, and the vehicle was bouncing across the field and towards the main road.

“Shit,” Desa murmured, scrambling to look back out the window. Rick and his people were in pursuit, tearing onto the asphalt in their own vehicles. Not taking her eyes off the road, she shouted to Alpha and Beta, “Nice job choosing a bus! These things are slow as shit!”

The Whisperer she’d bitted yanked her by the hair, into the aisle, and she screamed. Carl lunged but was held back. Beta, the top of his head fully touching the ceiling, began walking over with a scowl on his face.

He drew his knife.

“Easy, Beta,” Alpha said from the front.

Before he could do, well, whatever it was he was going to do, the bus rattled, the impact knocking almost everyone to the floor. An engine revving sounded from outside, and Desa dared a peek outside — a jeep was pushing against the side of the bus, driven by Michonne and a dark-haired girl Desa didn’t recognize.

“Desa!” Carl warned. When she looked up, Beta had regained his footing and was bringing his curved knife down towards her face.

Desa brought her arms up to meet him halfway. The blade pierced her wrists, just a bit, while the rest sliced clean through the rope holding her hands together. She retaliated immediately, aiming for the first part of Beta that she saw — his crotch.

Beta howled. A second of celebration, and then Desa was tackled, cheek connecting brutally hard with the window of the bus. The entire vehicle shifted to the side, driving Michonne and the dark-haired woman off the road and into a ditch.

Gunfire shattered the glass of the back emergency exit. In her peripheral, Desa saw Alpha’s shoulder spewing blood. The Whisperer holding her dropped, a clean hole blown through the side of his head. She immediately began digging through the corpse of the Whisperer, yanking his knife from his belt.

Before Beta could intervene, she began cutting Carl’s bonds. Alpha, holding her wounded shoulder, snarled, “They’re up on top!”

Footsteps pounded from the roof of the bus, and Beta have a roar of frustration. The moment the emergency hatch began to shake, he charged, giving Carl and Desa no time to brace themselves. He batted Carl to the side as if he weighed nothing, seizing Desa by her shirt.

She screamed.

The emergency hatch opened. Negan and Regina dropped to the floor. A Whisperer lunged and Regina blew a hole through his skull, before turning her gun on Alpha.

Beta saw, and he reacted by tossing Desa through the air. She slammed, hard, into Regina, both women crashing to the ground like a pair of bowling pins. Air left Desa’s lung like a vacuum, and she gasped. Her ears rang and she scrunched up her face, inhaling through her nose. Her entire body hurt. So, so terribly bad.

Alpha, the driver, and Beta were the only ones left. She shakily looked over her shoulder and saw Beta advancing on Carl and Negan, dwarfing both with ease. An intimidated look flashed across Negan’s face, and he gripped Lucille tightly.

Regina, dazed from the fall, scrambled to her feet, and to Desa’s horror, Alpha sprung into the isle.

It was over in a second.

Alpha’s knife pierced the side of Regina’s neck, coming out the other end. Blood gushed from the wound and she gurgled, reaching out to grip Alpha’s shoulder. It did nothing, and her knees buckled. Desa turned away in horror, sparing a glance behind her. Beta was backing Negan and Carl towards the emergency exit, footsteps unwavering. He would trap them, and kill them.

So Desa, tearing her eyes away from Regina’s corpse, stood and ran. She threw her full weight against Beta, clinging to his back and doing the only thing she could think of doing — she bit into an exposed sliver of flesh just past his shoulder.

He bellowed, and she saw Negan and Carl scramble towards the emergency hatch. Using the seats as support, Carl went first, lifting himself onto the bus’ roof. The entire time, Desa clung to Beta’s back. She only released him when she felt sinewy flesh come free, her hold on his loosening as blood flooded the back of her throat, making her gag. Her rear hit the floor and she spat out the chunk of meat.

Alpha, wounded, slumped against the wall with a glare on her face. Beta was still bellowing, holding his own wound. Negan took advantage of the opportunity, helping Desa to her feet.

They clambered through the emergency exit, Carl and Desa hauling Negan up with them. Lying flat on their stomachs, Desa glanced over the side and saw herself staring at the flatbed of a truck, Drake’s arm hanging from the driver’s seat.

“That’s our ride,” Negan rumbled. “Jump!”

Two things crossed Desa’s mind: she was afraid of heights, and slamming into the flatbed of a moving truck hurt much, much more than she’d anticipated. She crumpled, knees first, before landing on her back. The truck bounced on its axels as Carl joined, and then Negan.

The bus swerved, suddenly, prompting Drake to serve. Before Desa could say anything, the truck flew from the road, dipping head first into the narrow drainage ditch by the side of the road. Desa, Carl and Negan tumbled from the back before landing in a heap of tangled limbs. Once again, the wind was knocked from Desa’s body, and she felt drain water soak through her clothes.

“Nice job Drake!” Negan bellowed, wincing in pain and holding his shoulder. “Pretty sure I just broke every bone in my fucking body!”

Smoke seeped from the hood, and Drake fell from the drivers seat. The car was cloudy on the inside, the airbags having deployed, full force.

“Sorry,” Drake groaned, falling to his knees and holding his head. His eyes fell across Carl, and he said, “Shit, uh…the kid isn’t moving.”

Desa immediately flipped Carl onto his back. She checked his pulse — he was unconscious.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Negan groaned, staggering to his feet. His head whipped back and forth. “Where the fuck are they?”

“Got caught up by biters. A bunch flooded the road. We were so far ahead…,” Drake trailed off. “We need to move. Like, now. They’re coming.”

Groans filled the air. Gurgling, gasping groans that made Desa’s blood run cold. She felt Carl’s cheeks, checking his pulse once more out of instinct. She grabbed his hat from where it had fallen, placing it atop her head before hooking her arms beneath him.

“I’m not saying it’s the right thing to do, but we could, you know, leave the kid,” Drake wiped blood from his forehead. “Uh, shit.”

A few biters toppled into the drainage ditch, landing with a splash. Negan squeezed Desa’s shoulder and said, “I’ve got him.”

Drake drew his gun and fired, downing a biter. Negan, holding Carl in a vice grip, began limping towards the woods. Another biter fell, then another, flooding the ditch.

“Drake, cmon!” Desa shouted.

Another gunshot. Then Drake turned and began limping, his movements slower than Negan. Getting out of the ditch was going to be difficult. They were all wounded, to some degree. Drake fired, and fired, occasionally glancing over his shoulder, before a biter yanked at his shirt.

“Drake!”

“Go!” Drake waved an arm as Negan, Carl in his arms, crawled up the steep, muddy slope. When he lost his footing and nearly fell, Desa began pushing him from behind. Drake was still fighting, attempting to keep them at bay — it wasn’t working, and with a final shove, he turned and limped with vigor from the ditch, Desa in tow.

They were still overrun. The biters looped in from the right, hobbling towards what they assumed to be their next meal. Desa wiped mud and sweat from her brow, cursing. Beside her, Negan repositioned Carl in her arms.

All of a sudden, his face paled.

“Drake?”

“What?”

“Your neck.”

Desa’s first instinct was to do nothing. She just stared. The bite mark was bleeding, but it was a bite mark, right above his collarbone.

And Drake, like her, did nothing. He just glanced down at the wound, and then glanced at Negan, acknowledging the horrified look on his face, and then at Desa.

“Tis’ but a scratch.”

“This…is not the time to be quoting Monty Python,” Desa said hollowly. “Drake…”

He just shrugged. He turned back towards the tide of biters, extending a hand and gesturing for Desa and Negan to get back.

“Go. Seriously. I’ll handle this.”

“Drake, we’re not leaving—”

“I’m giving you guys time. Being the hero or whatever,” Drake drew his knife and advanced. Over his shoulder, he called, “Take the kid and get out of here. And don’t die.”

Then, he began yelling. Waving his arms and his knife. The biters point of interest changed in that very moment, and they began shifting towards Drake as he hooted and howled and swung his knife, slowly inching towards the woods.

“C’mon,” Negan murmured. “Desa, let’s go.”

“I can’t—”

“You have to leave him. Let him go.”

Desa’s feet carried her, mind blank. Every once and a while she’d turn, watching Drake advancing farther and farther into the woods. The fifth time Desa looked back, she could see the color of his clothes and the glint of his knife. His hoots and howls had transformed into shrieks of agony. Teeth tore chunks away from his flesh, the dead descending upon him like a swarm of bees. His cries eventually became gurgles.

And then, there was nothing left.

#vizhi0nw #negan

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