CHAPTER ELEVEN,
cdc

SAMANTHA HAS NEVER been familiar with funerals. The only funeral she's ever been to was for her grandmother Jean, and that one time had been enough for her. She hated the atmosphere of sorrow and the faces of strangers looking at her in pity, as if their expressions and the sympathy would make the loss easier to accept.

All the campers that had lost their lives had been buried, but one. Andrea wouldn't let anyone bury her little sister but herself, but doing it by herself made it more painful for her because the body bag was too heavy. Nathan stepped forward, but Dale had beat him to it and was already helping Andrea by trying to lift Amy's feet.

Shane noticed his sister's eyes glistening, so he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, letting her know that he was there and that he was going to support her. Samantha turned to him with a grateful gaze, and he returned it with a nod.

She knew he was going to be there no matter what, and surviving this cruel world with his support make it a little more worth it.

But she couldn't deny the resentment that was still there - it slithered around her and taunted her.

A little later, Shane and Rick were giving orders as everyone prepared to leave. "Everybody listen up," Her brother began, vehicles lined up behind the small crowd of people. "Those of you with CBs we're gonna be on channel 40. Lets keep that chatter down, okay? Now you gotta problem, don't have a CB, can't get a signal or anything at all you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan,"

"We're uh...not going." A voice spoke.

Samantha whipped her head to the family, her eyes widening when she realized it was Morales.
"What?" She said, disappointment lacing her words. "Why?"

"We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people." His wife explained, hugging her children close.

"What if they aren't there?" Nathan asked with disapproval. "Then what are you gonna do?"

"Its a safer chance if you stayed with us," Shane agreed. "You won't have anyone to watch your back all alone."

"We'll take the chance," Morales stated. "I have to do what's best for my family."

"You sure?" Rick asked.

"We talked about it," Morales met his wife's eyes and gave her hand a squeeze with certainly. "We're sure."

The survivors said their goodbyes and Samantha handed Morales some ammo. "Thank you for everything, maybe one day we'll meet again."

Morales smiled, patting her shoulder. "Stay witty, kid. This new world might need it."

Daryl Dixon released a scoff and Samantha glanced over her shoulder and eyed him, but she was only met with his back as he walked away.

The campers begin to drift off to their vehicles, whilst the twenty year old debated on what to do. Usually Shane was her ride, but she needed time to think by herself - away from her brother. She could sense the anger and resentment intertwining with one another in her and trying to ignite her temper, and she tried so hard to keep that from happening.

Shane was rummaging in the back of his jeep and slipped his cap on, turning to his baby sister with a smile.

"Hey, Sammy. I found somethin' that might make you smile."

He pulled something from his bag and handed it to her, the sight of the picture making the corners of her mouth twitch up into a smile of reminisce. It was a picture of her high school graduation, Samantha wearing a white dress with her black graduation cap and her arms wrapped around both Rick and Shane. She was beaming into the picture, while Shane had a look that resembled a proud father, holding up a beer bottle as if he were roasting the cameraman. Rick had been caught laughing, his blue eyes shining with content and joy. It made him more youth and perhaps a little more handsome.

This was her proudest day, because with the way she was back then, she thought she would never graduate - but then senior year rolled around and she worked so hard.

This fact only made the outbreak a little more depressing, because all that hard work seemed to be thrown out of the window.

Shane's expression softened at his sister's smile. "I grabbed it on the way out," He continued. "I knew you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if you ever lost it."

Samantha looked at his face and felt guilty for feeling the way she does, but she didn't blame herself either. Giving the photo once last glance, she folded it up and slid it into her pocket, her decision finally being made. "I think I'm going to ride with someone else."

This made the smile slip clean off his face. "If you're upset-"

"I'm upset about a lot of things, Shane," Samantha interjected, crossing her arms over her chest. "I need time to breathe."

"Me," The words left his lips as a statement. "You're upset with me."

Samantha looked over at the vehicles and saw that nobody was paying them any attention, so she finally let her true emotions slip through. "I asked you weeks ago to train the camp simple defense," Her heart was thumping rapidly, her eyes turning into a glare. "You put the blame on Rick as if it were his fault, but it's on you too!"

Shane's jaw was tight, his dark eyes narrowed. "You best keep your voice down." He warned

"Or what?" Samantha challenged. "Are you afraid that people might hear the truth? That people might know that you've been fucking your best friends wife?" The words slipped out of her mouth without her even thinking, but her anger blinded her from any logical thinking. She was so angry, so tired of all the secrets. "I wouldn't be surprised if you knocked up Lori with your tough luck."

"Samantha-"

"No," She held her hand up, shaking her head. "You aren't my favorite person right now, I don't want to hear it."

The look on Shane's made her heart tremble in more guilt, but she wouldn't let that take away her final decision. She grabbed her bag from the back of his jeep and stalked past him. Samantha had many different options, but each option had a flaw. With Jim's agonizing state in the RV and her wanting to avoid both Rick and Lori because of the situation, she could only think of one person.

His name left her lips and he turned to her. "What?" Daryl asked, his tone curt.

"I need a ride." She informed him, and a scoff left his mouth as he turned away. "Ain't my problem."

Samantha could feel her face becoming red. "Look-"

"I was doing just fine without you botherin' me with your family problems," Daryl cut her off roughly, and Samantha wondered how he knew. "If your meathead of a brother can't handle you, find someone else that can cuz I ain't it."

Frustration fluttered through her and she glared at him. "If you don't give me a ride, I'm more than obligated to cause a scene." Samantha threatened.

Daryl turned back to her, his expression hard but she could see a single trace of astonishment behind his eyes. With a huff, the redneck hopped into his truck. "Get in." He grumbled, and taking the invitation Samantha enforced, she climbed in.

On the road Samantha had finished the chocolate Glenn had given her, the taste making her stomach ache for more but sadly she couldn't give it anymore. She looked up at the clouds that changed to all different shapes and sizes, as if the artist couldn't decide his final touch.

Daryl had one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other lazily held a cigarette between his fingers. The smell hit her nose and it crinkled up.

"Can you roll down the window?" Samantha asked. Daryl barely even acknowledged her existence. "Dixon," She leaned forward and poked his shoulder, the contact causing him to noticeably flinch. "Roll down the window."

"I heard ya, woman." He shifted in his seat as if her touch had burned him like acid.

"Well if you heard me, then can you please roll down the window?" With his lack of response, annoyance fluttered in her. "Ya know, smoking is known for rotting your teeth and causing life threatening diseases. My gram had lung cancer, and it didn't end so well-"

"Don't ya have a mute button?" Daryl snapped, looking over at her with hard eyes.

"I will once you roll down the window." Samantha fired back, crossing her arms.

He muttered a curse, finally giving in and cranking down the window. She let out a sigh of relief as she felt the stench of cigarettes be replaced with fresh air.

"See? Not so hard."

Daryl glared at her, letting out an irritated growl.

"Did you just growl?" Samantha asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Why don't you piss and mark your territory while you're at it."

Suddenly the cars in front of them halted, causing the twenty year old to glance at Daryl in confusion, who only shrugged in response. She climbed out of the car and saw Dale standing to the side of his RV, a toolbox near him. Whatever happened, he looked frustrated.

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose," Dale was telling Rick, "I said I needed the one from the cube van."

"Can you rig it?" Rick asked hopefully.

"That's all its been so far. Its more duct tape than hose," Dale explained over the fan in the engine winding down. "And I'm out of duct tape."

Shane was looking through binoculars. "I see something up ahead. Gas station if we're lucky." He mentioned.

"Y'all, Jim!" Jacqui came racing out of the RV, panicked. "Its bad. I don't think he can take anymore."

"Hey, Rick. You wanna hold down the fort? I'll drive ahead and see what I can bring back." Shane offered. Rick nodded and disappeared into the RV.

"Your RV is pretty shitty." Nathan stated sadly.

Dale sent him a mock glare. "Go make yourself useful and stop insulting my vehicle."

"I mean, he's right," Samantha piped in, rubbing her head. "What both you and this piece of junk have in common is old age and needed retirement."

Dale shook his head with a wide smile. "You kids are gonna send me to an early grave."

T-Dog and Shane came back from their hunt. "Guys," Rick beckoned the survivors and they crowded around him. "Jim says he wants to be left here."

"What?" Samantha gasped. "Are you sure?"

"Its what he says he wants."

"And he's lucid?" Carol uttered in disbelief.

"He seems to be. I would say yes."

"We can't do that," Nate protested. "That's suicide."

"Its his choice, son," Sighed Dale. "I would never go along with callously killing a man. I just suggest that we give Jim what he wants."

Samantha looked down to her feet. "He's made his choice, and we need to respect that."

"We just leave him here and take off? Man, I'm not sure I could live with that." Shane disagreed, shaking his head.

"Then we leave him with a gun, just in case." His sister offered.

"But-"

"No, stop it. Its not your call, either one of you," Lori Grimes sighed. "We go with Sam's plan; leave him a gun. Its the least we can do."

For the first time in a few weeks, Samantha looked at Lori and the two shared a nod. Their little exchange made her realize how much she missed their friendship.

Rick and Shane brought a drained, sickly and limp looking Jim to a base of a tree and set him there. "Hey," Jim croaked, gazing upward. "Another damn tree."Samantha let out a weak laugh at his humor.

"Hey, Jim, you know it doesn't have to be like this..." Shane spoke quietly.

"No, its good. The breeze is nice." Jim responded.

"Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight." Jacqui whispered, kissing his cheek.

Everyone else said their goodbyes, and Samantha patiently waited her turn. After awhile, Jim's eyes latched onto hers and so she stepped forward. "I wish you would let us help." She sighed, kneeling down.

"You already did," He said, smiling weakly. "I think death looks good on me, don'tcha think?"
His eyes held the knowledge that he would soon perish and become one of the things that had killed his family. How could he do this to himself? Why was he doing this to himself?

"Why are you doing this?" Samantha questioned, frowning deeply.

"My family..." He murmured. "I want to be with my family. I know I'll find them."

"Jim-"

"These people, they are your family," He continued, the light fading from his eyes as they speak. "Those nightmares, don't let them stop you. Keep the hope burnin' within you, kid. Where theres life, there's hope - its our strongest thing right now," His eyes welled up with tears, and she felt her own do the same.

"Don't become like me." He breathed.

Samantha wiped her eyes and pulled out an extra gun, ready to hand it to Jim but he shook his head. "Look, you don't have to use it, but it'll leave me with a peace of mind knowing you have options." She stated calmly.

Jim chuckled painfully. "You're about as stubborn as a mule."

She set the gun on his lap and stood up, giving him once last farewell before heading towards Daryl's truck. "You done?" Daryl asked, his face hard but his voice wasn't rough, almost close to being gentle.

"Just go." She said, looking out the window and staring at Jim's weak form, her heart feeling heavy and her soul drowning in sadness. Daryl was staring at her, before shaking it off and revving up his engine to life.

The ride to the CDC was silent, and for once Samantha was thankful for that. As much as she hated it, she needed it after everything. The building of the Center for Disease Control came into her perspective, and she could see darkness working it's way over the building, a sign that night was coming.

She opened the door and a smell greeted her. "Oh, god!" The smell of decay was something she hasn't gotten used to, but luckily her gagging reflexes are strong thanks to years of experience.

Samantha found the source of the odor and her eyes widened at the sight of masses of dead bodies strewn across the campus of the CDC, most of them wearing military uniforms.

Upon realizing this, she looked for Nathan and found him staring at them with unreadable eyes. She felt for him in that moment, before making her way to the building with the others.

"Alright everybody, keep moving, go on!" Her brother's voice met her ears. The survivors quickly moved through the carcasses, and Samantha tried her best not to step on any one of them out of respect for the deceased.

Once they finally made it to the doors, they came to the horrifying conclusion that there were shutters blocking the entrance. "There's nobody here." T-Dog whispered.

"Then why are these shutters down!" Rick argued.

Samantha heard a gurgling groan from behind her that made the ends of her hair stand up. She turned, her heart thumping heavily at the sight of the undead from a small distance. "Walkers!" She yelped.

Daryl was swiftly at her side, raising his crossbow and putting an arrow through a nearby walker's skull. He turned his heated glare to look at Rick. "You led us to a graveyard!" He snarled.

"He made a call!" Dale shouted in Rick's defense.

"He made the wrong damn call!" the redneck boomed. He charged towards Rick but her brother pushed him back. "Just shut up! Shut up, you hear me? Shut up!" Shane growled, turning on his heel to face his best friend. "Rick, this is a dead end."

"There's no time for miracles," Samantha was the next to speak, going up to Rick but he wasn't looking at her. "We need to go, right now. Think of Carl, Rick!"

"She's right, we can't be this close to the city after dark!" Lori whispered, backing up Samantha. "This isn't safe for the kids, any of us!"

"Fort Benning, thats still an option - Nate can get us in!" Shane's eyes fell on the soldier, who kept his gun raised and his hand on the trigger. He looked back, but gave no response, the absence of his men on his walkie making him hesitant.

Options decreased and a frantic fear took over the survivors, but their leader was determined, his eyes on something above. "The camera!" He suddenly spoke, his voice louder than everyone else's. "It moved!"

Dale looked at the camera and back at Rick. "You imagined it, its an automatic device." He stated.

Samantha looked up at the camera and wondered if anyone was truly behind it watching them, but then she felt pathetic. This place clearly had no hope, and Rick couldn't accept that. "I know you're in there, I know you can hear me! Please, we're desperate!" His pleads were full of desperation, but no one would answer them. The CDC was just another place with no hope inside.

"Rick, we need to go!" Samantha yelled, but Rick seemed to block every other voice but his own, hopelessly trying to save his people before the horrible world can take them away.

"We have women and children! No food, hardly any gas left! We have nowhere else to go!"

"Rick! Your family needs you!" Samantha cried, standing in front of him and trying to get him to look at anything else but the building, but he was a man of desperation and hopelessness, two things that weren't supposed to mix together, for it made even the smartest man irrational.

"Rick, this place is dead, we have to-"

"You're killing us! Please! Help us!" Samantha felt her brother's wrap around her and pull her back, her fight against him becoming a struggle against his tight grip as Rick's hysterical screams of despair pierced through the night sky. "YOU'RE KILLING US!"

And like the flick of a switch, the survivors were submerged in a blinding light.

words ; 3080
edited ; ✔️