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Next update? Fuck this cultivation world!
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Chapter 15
"What are they doing?" Clementine asked, eyes wide as she stared through the broken blinds.
Leo glanced over from where he stood at the makeshift counter, sauce-stained fingers pausing mid-motion above a pepperoni slice.
Seeing what she saw, he shrugged nonchalantly.
"Just some light sparring to make sure they don't get rusty," he said, completely serious.
Clementine blinked at him as she heard one of Leo's guys get slammed into an old picnic table with enough force to snap it in half.
"…You call that light?"
Leo shrugged, eyes back on the dough he was shaping. "Could've been the cars, I call that progress."
Clementine gave him a look, then slowly turned her head again just in time to see two masked figures punch each other with bone-rattling force.
One of them was quicker to recover as they flipped the other over their shoulder and pinned them, fast and brutal.
"…And you're going to do that too?" she asked, a worried look appearing on her face. "You're not right?"
Leo chuckled, tossing some shredded cheese onto the pizza with casual confidence.
"What, and let those guys get cocky? Gotta remind 'em who's boss."
"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around," she muttered, wincing as the one pinned got out of the hold and gut punched the other man.
"I'll have you know, I aim for the testicles."
Clementine narrowed her eyes, trying not to laugh at what he said.
"You're a menace."
"And yet here you are helping the menace make pizza."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back the smile forming on her lips. "Only because said menace promised me extra cheese."
Leo smirked, turning away from her.
"Don't forget the stuffed crust."
"You spoil me~"
"Don't get used to it, this is only because it's a special occasion that we got out the good stuff."
At the reminder of what tomorrow meant, her smile faded just a touch.
"Can't believe we're really leaving this place…"
Leo's hands slowed, and he glanced toward her.
"Kind of weird, huh? After spending so much time here and thinking you'll never leave..." He smiled while wiping his hands on a rag.
She nodded, brushing a loose curl behind her ear as she took a look around the motel for what could possibly be the last time.
"It wasn't much, but this place was ours and it kept us safe all this time."
The blue-eyed boy was quiet for a moment, understanding what she was going through, he nudged her gently with his shoulder.
"Well, don't worry. You'll still have terrible wallpaper and occasional bugs where we're going, just upgraded with plumbing and actual food."
Clementine let out a giggle and playfully bumped him back. "Sounds like paradise."
He grinned, his tone softening. "You'll see."
She nodded again, a little more sure this time, and then pointed to the pizza in progress.
"You missed a spot."
The boy followed her finger, then squinted, frowning. "You sure?"
She nodded solemnly. "If a bite doesn't have at least three pepperonis, I'm revolting."
He chuckled and handed her the pepperoni bag.
"You're a tyrant."
"I learned from the best," she said sweetly, before sticking her tongue out at him and dropping the final pieces in place.
Now all they had to do was cook the pizzas they made and have a good time for the last time at this motel.
________
Ghost groaned, rolling his shoulders as he sat against the hood of their Hummer, the ache settling in like an old friend.
Sure, they were tougher than normal people, but that doesn't mean they don't feel pain when getting flipped onto a table and breaking it.
"Damn," he muttered, the pain slowly fading away. "That roundhouse came outta nowhere…"
A shadow fell over him, causing him to look up to see Lily approaching with a water bottle in hand.
She had that same half-concerned, half-impressed look she always wore after watching them spar.
"You alright?" she asked, offering him the bottle. "You took one hell of a beating."
Ghost gave a tired grin and took the bottle with a grateful nod.
"If I say no, do I get out of cleanup duty?"
Lily giggled, knowing just how much he hated doing the clean up. It wasn't her fault that he and his group agreed to help them with their chores.
"Not a chance."
He chuckled at her answer, then winced at the pain it caused. "Thought so."
She sat down beside him, close enough to show support but not crowding him. "I've seen you take hits before, but that one looked personal."
"That's 'cause it was," Ghost muttered, tilting the bottle up for a drink.
Lily held her breath as he slowly pulled his mask up, never having seen his face before, despite it being days.
Her eyes were completely focused on him, not wanting to miss seeing what he looked like under the mas—
SHATTER
She barely saw skin before the sound of breaking glass snapped her attention away.
She quickly relaxed when she saw it was just one of Ghost's men practicing with their slingshots using glass bottles as targets.
Seeing that it wasn't anything to worry about, she quickly turned around and frowned when she saw him putting the cap back on the bottle.
"That was Cipher, he's still sore that I beat him in Uno last week. Guess this was his version of a rematch." Ghost nodded his head towards the person, not going for another sip.
She sighed in disappointment before turning to stare at this Cipher, who was the one practicing with their slingshot.
"Tell him not to be such a sore loser."
"Oh, I plan to, right after I slam his head into the dirt tomorrow."
She laughed at that, short but genuine. Then, her gaze softened as she looked at him. "Still, maybe don't push yourself so hard, yeah? You're not indestructible as far as I'm aware."
Ghost looked at her, surprised by her sincerity.
"I'll try."
"You better," she said, standing up and offering him a hand with a smile. "Come on~ Dinner's almost ready, and Clem said something about stuffed crust. You miss out on that, and I'm not saving you any."
Just as Ghost was about to reply, a sharp whistle pierced the air. Both he and Lily turned their heads as one of his masked men jogged toward them, a serious air around him.
The man stopped a few feet away, standing at attention.
"Ghost," His voice clipped. "We've got something you're gonna want to hear."
Ghost's relaxed posture faded in an instant. He stood up with a groan, straightening his back as the weight of leadership settled on his shoulders once more.
He looked back at Lily and offered an apologetic nod of his head.
"Duty calls," he said with a tired half-smile behind his mask.
Lily frowned, getting up as well. "Should I stay with you? I could help."
He shook his head gently.
"Nah, I've got this."
"But—"
"It's okay~! Go enjoy the pizza. Stuffed crust doesn't come around often in the apocalypse."
She hesitated, clearly torn, her lips pressed into a worried line, but eventually, she gave a small nod.
"Alright… I'll save you a slice if you don't make it to dinner."
That was a quick change of heart.
"I'll hold you to that," he said, watching her slowly turn and walk back toward the motel with one last glance over her shoulder.
Once she was gone, Ghost turned to the scout, the casual warmth in his tone gone like a switch flipping.
"Talk."
The man didn't waste time.
"While we were transporting the people we saved to one of our safe points, we found the school and the St. John's farm."
Ghost's whole body tensed at the mention of that name. His fingers curled around the water bottle until the plastic crinkled beneath his grip.
"Are you sure?" he asked, voice quiet but hard.
The scout nodded before continuing.
"We still have guys keeping watch as we speak, and we confirmed the people are still there… Whether or not the people at the farm are cannibals yet or already are, we're gonna have to wait and see."
Ghost's jaw tightened beneath his mask.
For a long second, he didn't say a word, then gave a short nod and turned away.
They had work to do before they leave.
__________
Carol Peletier sighed quietly as she adjusted the folded stack of laundry in her arms, the fabric still warm from drying in the sun.
Her shoes crunched softly on the dirt as she approached her tent, careful not to wake her husband.
The flap of the tent stirred as she pulled it aside, slipping inside. Her eyes landed on him immediately, her husband sprawled out on his side on their makeshift bedding, jaw still wrapped in a tight bandage and stained gauze from when Hound shattered it days ago.
His breathing was shallow and slow, and he was still asleep.
Good.
He'd been quieter since then.
Not just because of the broken jaw, it was more than that.
Ever since the masked man had knocked him on his ass and sent teeth flying, Ed had changed.
The man who once hurled fists and insults at her and her daughter now couldn't meet her gaze, couldn't even raise his voice without choking on it.
Sudden movements made him flinch, shadows made him jump, even distant voices sent him curling inward like a beaten dog, bracing for a blow that never came.
Carol hadn't expected to feel anything but fear that day, but what she felt watching that mask-covered figure beat the arrogance out of Ed with a brutal punch was something she hadn't expected.
It was satisfaction and joy at the sight of her abusive husband getting the karma he deserved.
He still tried sometimes, small things, a growl of an insult here, or a point of a finger there, but he shut up real quick when one of the masked men was nearby.
And they always were.
Sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of them by chance, just standing there… waiting.
Carol put down the laundry carefully, folding a shirt belonging to her daughter before glancing toward the back of the tent where Sophia would usually be.
"Sophia?" she called, voice gentle. "Honey?"
No answer.
She stepped back outside, looking around the tent for her daughter before squinting toward the small crowd gathered near the communal fire, thinking she would be there.
But there was no sign of her.
"Sophia?" she called again, a little louder now, scanning faces.
No reply.
Her heart began to beat a little faster as panic slowly began to set in.
She walked quickly, asking people as she passed if they had seen her daughter.
"I dunno, too busy to notice," came one muttered reply.
"Haven't seen her." Was another.
A shrug as they walked away. "Maybe she's by the water?"
Her pace quickened as the air became thicker and harder to breathe.
She was just about to fully panic, and was ready to tear open every tent flap in sight, when she heard it.
"Can I pet her?" Her daughter's voice.
She spun toward where it came from.
It came from the horse trailer the masked men used. She hurried over, boots crunching against gravel and dry grass, her pulse thundering.
She reached the open back and froze.
There was Sophia, gently stroking the muzzle of a brown mare while smiling up at the figure beside her, Hound, mask and all, one gloved hand holding out an apple slice for her to give to the horse.
His dog was beside them, resting next to the man's feet.
The horse whined softly, nuzzling the little girl's hand as she giggled.
Hound looked down, nodding at something she said, a rare moment of softness in his intimidating presence.
Carol didn't speak for a moment. She just stared, chest rising and falling, her panic bleeding into something else.
Relief.
But beneath all that… a cautious uncertainty still lingered.
She didn't fully trust them.
But in that moment, watching her daughter safe and smiling, Carol Peletier could admit one thing with certainty.
She trusted them more than she ever trusted Ed.
"Sophia!" Carol called, her voice carrying relief and just a touch of leftover panic.
The little girl turned at once, wide-eyed. "Mom!"
Hound turned as well, slow and measured, his mask hiding any expression, though the tilt of his head showed he wasn't caught off guard.
Carol made her way over quickly, her hands unconsciously brushing dust from her jeans, heart still slowly settling back into her chest.
She stopped just short of them and folded her arms, not quite scolding, but close.
"What are you doing over here, sweetheart?" she asked, voice soft but firm. "Didn't I tell you to stay near the camp until I come back?
Sophia's smile faltered, and now a sad look replaced it.
"I just… I wanted to meet Daisy, and Mr. Hound said I could pet her, a-and I forgot to tell you. I didn't mean to scare you."
Carol exhaled through her nose, the tension draining out of her shoulders as she knelt down in front of her daughter and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"It's alright," she murmured. "But next time, let me know before you disappear, okay? I nearly tore the whole camp apart looking for you."
Sophia nodded quickly, a smile now back on her face. "Okay! I promise."
Satisfied, Carol stood back up and turned her gaze to Hound, swallowing her unease as she met the blank stare of his mask.
"Thank you," she said hesitantly, voice quiet. "For looking after her."
Hound simply gave a nod.
"I was just about to ask if she wanted to ride Daisy."
Sophia gasped, her eyes lighting up like someone had flipped a switch inside her.
"Really?!"
Carol's eyebrows rose at her daughter's excitement, but before she could respond, Sophia was already bouncing in place, practically vibrating with energy as she turned back to her.
"Can I, Mom? Please?"
Carol glanced at the horse, at Hound, and then back at her daughter's eager face.
The hesitation was there, still flickering at the edges of her thoughts, but it was hard to hold onto it when her daughter looked that happy.
She smiled softly and gave a slow nod. "Alright, just be careful when you're on, ok sweetie?"
Sophia squealed in joy and launched forward, wrapping her arms around Carol in a tight hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Carol chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Go on then."
Her daughter turned immediately to Hound, eyes expectant, her excitement barely contained.
Hound let out a quiet chuckle, undeniably amused.
He reached for the saddle, putting it on Daisy, and began helping Sophia up with practiced ease, the kind of gentle care that said more than words ever could.
Carol stepped back and watched them with careful eyes, but a smile was on her face nonetheless.
She quickly followed after them as they began their little stroll.
The trail just outside the camp wound through a quiet patch of forest.
Sunlight filtered through the branches above, painting beautiful patterns of light on the dirt path below.
Birds chirped softly in the distance, the occasional snap of twigs underfoot the only disruption of the nature around them.
Carol walked beside them, her steps steady, a hand occasionally brushing leaves out of her way.
Hound strode silently at her daughter's side, one hand holding Daisy's reins with the same quiet confidence he seemed to carry into everything as he led them along.
The massive brown mare moved with calm, slow steps, careful with the little girl riding atop her back.
Sophia swayed slightly with Daisy's rhythm, a wide grin on her face as she looked around with wonder as if she were on top of the world.
"Mr. Hound, does Daisy have a favorite snack?"
The masked man glanced up at her with a slight tilt of his head.
"Hound is fine and her favorite snack is apples," he said simply. "But only the red ones."
"Not green?"
"She gets fussy if it's green," he replied, as if it was obvious.
Sophia giggled, petting Daisy's neck. "She's picky!"
Carol let out a small breath of amusement, listening quietly as Sophia fired off more questions.
"Where did you find her? Does she sleep in the trailer? What's her full name?"
"Found her alone at a farm and she's just Daisy," Hound said, calm and patient, answering each question without complaint. "She likes the trailer but prefers to sleep outside, more comfy."
They continued like that for a while, the peaceful atmosphere settling over them like a blanket.
"Does she like Coco?"
"They get along fine as long as I don't play favorites."
"How many pets do you have?"
"Does a bear count as a pet?"
"You have a pet bear!?"
"We made an agreement when I found him while raiding a zoo, he won't eat me as long as I keep him fed."
"That's so cool!"
Even Carol felt the tension in her shoulders loosen, especially at the joke he made about the bear.
But eventually, the questions dwindled, and silence took root between them again, soft and not unwelcome.
That was when Carol spoke.
"How many people decided to go?" she asked quietly from beside them, "To go with you."
Hound didn't answer right away. His pace didn't slow, but Carol could see the subtle shift in his posture.
"Not many," he finally said. "So far, it's only Glenn, Jacqui, maybe Amy if her sister follows, Jim, and T-Dog who are confirmed going."
Carol nodded slightly, her eyes on the dirt path beneath her shoes.
"Rick's still trying to convince Shanedue to him being the one people look to as a leader," Hound added. "The rest are stuck arguing in circles. Today's the last day… and they're still debating."
The silence stretched for a few more steps, broken only by the steady clip-clop of Daisy's hooves.
Then Hound turned his head slightly, his voice low but clear only to her.
"Have you decided?"
Carol stopped walking.
Her eyes slowly lifted from the trail and met the blank surface of his mask.
"I don't know," she said honestly, her voice quiet, almost ashamed.
She glanced up at Sophia again, her daughter beaming from horseback, safe and carefree in a way she hadn't been in so long.
"I want to," she murmured. "I just… my husband..."
She didn't say the rest, but it hung between them like heavy fog.
Hound gave a slow nod, as if he understood without needing to hear it.
They kept walking as the sun slowly began to set.
_______
Hawk boots crunched softly against the forest floor, leaves and twigs giving way beneath each step.
He moved through the forest at a steady pace, always scanning the area for threats.
Doc walked in quiet tandem, spear slung over his back.
"They're still arguing," Hawk muttered, breaking the silence, his voice a rasp behind the mask.
Doc didn't look at him as he responded with a sigh. "Of course they are."
"They'll die that way," Hawk said bitterly, thinking about the kids who were with them. "Squabbling while the world eats them alive."
Doc gave a dry snort, brushing aside a branch.
"If the dead don't kill them, their indecision will."
A short beat of silence passed between them, filled only by the rustling of wind and branches, until Hawk stopped in his tracks.
His hand shot out, catching Doc's shoulder.
Both men dropped low, crouched behind a fallen tree.
In the distance, a low groan echoed.
And then another.
And another.
A slow, steady wave of moaning voices rolled through the trees like a storm building on the horizon.
Hawk clicked on the side of his mask and peered through the brush.
Walkers.
Dozens, no, even more than that.
At least thirty of them, slowly shambling through the woods, and to make matters worse?
They were heading straight for the camp.
"Shit," Hawk muttered, tapping on his mask again. "Think they'll notice before it's too late?"
The doctor shook his head before tapping on his own mask.
"We both saw how their camp's wide open and how they act like it's completely safe just because they haven't been attacked yet. Most of them look like they have never killed a damn thing, let alone a walker. They won't move until someone's already screaming and dead."
A long breath passed before Doc pulled something out from seemingly nowhere beside his head.
It was another dragon mask, but unlike the others, this one was stitched from rotting flesh.
The leather was mottled with decay, bone showing through one malformed cheek, and symbols painted in blood.
"I hate this," Doc muttered, eyeing the mask.
"They need a fucking wake-up call," Hawk replied, voice cold. "So we're gonna give them one."
Hawk moved swiftly between the trees, eyes sharp beneath the mask. He scanned the horde until he spotted one walker that had drifted too far from the main group, an older corpse in a stained business suit, arms twitching weakly, half its jaw missing.
Perfect.
"Got one," Hawk whispered.
Doc nodded and followed without a word.
The two of them stalked forward and pounced on the lone walking corpse.
Hawk tackled the walker low, slamming it into the ground with a crunch of brittle bone against rock. It squirmed, teeth gnashing, but Hawk planted a knee on its back and locked its hands in a tight hold.
"Hold still," Hawk growled like it could understand.
Doc brought the mask to his face, the rotting flesh one, stinking of death and old blood.
The moment it was on the walker's face, the reaction was immediate.
The walker let out an unnatural shriek, like steel being dragged across glass, its limbs trying to flail violently, but Hawk's grip was unbreakable.
The corpse's frame convulsed like it was being torn apart from the inside out as it slowly transformed, the mask molding into the walker's face.
Then it completely stopped and was now perfectly still. Seeing this, Hawk let go and walked away from the walker while Doc took out another mask.
Now free to move, the walker pushed off from the dirt and stood with a slow, deliberate motion.
A walker version of Leo stared back at them, his features grotesquely mirrored in this abomination.
The same blue eyes, now milky, the same wild hair, only dirty and half-falling out, and his face unrecognizable as his jaw hung loosely.
Then, without hesitation, Walker-Leo raised a rotting hand to his face and ripped it off.
He tore out his hair, peeled his skin, then gouged one eye free and let it hang by a strand.
Now he was even more unrecognizable.
"I hate how we can still feel everything…" Doc muttered, backing away as the pain was overwhelming.
"It's a good thing we're used to it," Hawk grumbled as he walked away and started looking for his next target.
Walker-Leo growled low and flexed his decaying fingers as if he was testing the body before adjusting his suit.
"Come on, we need ten more," Hawk ordered, already spotting their next target.
They moved quickly, getting the job done as fast as possible.
Doc grabbed the next stray walker while Hawk held it down and forced the mask on.
Each time, the screams were just as unnatural; every time one rose to its feet, it began mutilating itself in a gruesome show of individuality.
Hair torn, eyes ripped out, and flesh peeled from skulls.
By the end of it, they had ten and killed the rest.
Ten rotting corpses, each looking unrecognizable to the others.
Doc stood, wiping gore off his gloves as he looked around. "That's the last of it."
Hawk gave a nod.
"Let's scare the dumbasses into surviving."
With that said, they turned toward camp… and let the horrors walk.
And if someone named Ed were to be the only one to die?
Well, that's just bad luck now, wasn't it?