WHITE FLAG

chapter fifty-four : glorified cold
{ season four - episode three }

KLOE RUSHED OUTSIDE onto the concrete, her mind cloudy. So much had gone on within just one day. She leaned her body forward, resting her palms on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

She fiddled through her pocket, gripping onto her asthma reliever. She shook it furiously before bringing it to her lips. She pushed the canister down, the blockage in her airways vanishing away.

She watched the ground beneath her shoes, her heavy breathing slowing down. "Kloe?" Isabelle Marshel called out to her upon seeing her in a state of panic.

Kloe's head snapped up toward the concerned woman, her eyes widening promptly. She took a step back, her hands raising in front of her as she gestured to Isabelle to stop. "Don't come near me, Isa."

"I'm not afraid, Kloe," Isabelle mentioned, a stoic expression on her face. "If you get sick, then so do I."

"No," Kloe stated firmly, shaking her head. "Just- just go help out the others with the fence or something." Kloe had never felt like she needed to be alone more than ever. She hated the fact of being alone - but right then, all she wanted was the feeling of being by herself.

"I heard what happened. With Nicole and Jack," Isabelle clarified. "I'm sorry. They didn't deserve that." Kloe's breath got caught in her throat, the name of the two children causing her eyes to sting.

"Let's not talk about that," she muttered out, earning a small 'okay' in return. There was a moment of silence for a few seconds, until a certain smell reached Kloe's nose, making her frown deeply. "Do you smell that?"

"Yeah..." Isabelle replied, her head lifting as she drastically searched the area around her. "Smells like something's burning."

"Hey, look," Kloe pointed up at the air, very faint smoke rising into it. She glanced down at the building it was coming from. Her eyes lowered to the building beside it when she noticed it was coming from a courtyard - belonging to A-Block. "I'll go check it out."

"Need help?" Isabelle wondered, beginning to follow the other woman.

"No," Kloe told her strictly, eyeing her over her own shoulder. "It's the block where people that are infected or exposed are held."

...

Kloe's eyes broadened at the sight of the blood trail on the concrete ground in front of her. As the burning smell got more vivid, everything began to make more and more sense.

"Klo?" The woman's body spun around, coming eye-to-eye with Tyreese - who was holding a bouquet of yellow and white flowers. "What are you doing here?"

"Can you not smell that?" Kloe wondered, pointing to the sickening smell of ashes behind her. "Do you not smell the burning?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tyreese responded, "But I thought it was just Carol burning the food again." If Kloe didn't have a large pit in her stomach like she usually did, maybe she would've laughed.

"I think I would've thought that too..." Kloe stepped off to the side, pointing down at the long trail of blood that led a certain way, "If there wasn't a track of someone's blood and the smoke outside."

Tyreese's expression dropped as he stared at Kloe, "Karen and David aren't in their cells..."

Kloe's lips parted with shock, which caused her to spin around and sprint down the hallway - Tyreese directly behind her. They both turned a corner in the dark, gloomy hallway, the only source of light coming from the extremely dim yellow lightbulb that was powered by batteries - shit batteries.

They both froze as they no longer saw the trail. Tyreese looked above them, eyeing the shitty lightbulb. He raised his free hand, twisting it anti-clockwise. The faint light grew lighter and lighter the more he twisted it.

Kloe held her breath as she blinked at the very trail beneath her shoes. She slowly lifted her gaze to the door, which had the path led underneath it. Without hesitation, Tyreese paced forward with speed, pushing open the door.

"What is it, Tyreese?" Kloe inquired, still standing in the same place as she waited for what the man had just spotted. Although, the man took insanely slow steps toward what he had just discovered. "Tyreese?"

Still not receiving an answer, the woman tread forward impatiently. Stopping beside Tyreese, she looked down at the ground. Within the first millisecond of noticing what was on the ground in front of them, she instantly felt her stomach twist.

There Karen and David were. Lying on the ground. Burnt to the bone. "Oh my God," Kloe gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Tyreese's legs began to grow weak, causing him to fall to the ground.

The only thing that Kloe thought that she could do was set her hand on the Williams' shoulder, her eyes glued to the two burnt bodies. She brought her free hand to her forehead, wiping off a bead of sweat that appeared out of nowhere.

"I- I'll get Rick and the others," Kloe said before spinning on her heel, darting toward the building. She felt off. She didn't feel normal. A scratching feeling reached her throat, and the second she felt it, she knew exactly what was happening.

She raised the back of her hand to her mouth, coughing whatever lied within her throat. Her whole body froze, her heart beating against her ribcage. She had the virus that killed overnight.

Shaking her head repeatedly, she pushed her body forward and began sprinting toward the entrance of the building. With force, she pushed open the heavy metal door, the bright light from the sun making her squint.

She continued to step forward, her eyes landing on the group entering the prison grounds from the field. Rick, he had blood covered over his shirt and he looked somewhat unhappy.

Beside the Grimes man stood Daryl, Carol, Zayn and Vickie. The ones that were in D-Block that morning stood away from the ones that weren't. "Rick!" Kloe shouted from a distance, her voice cracking as she held back the cough that was waiting impatiently to release.

"Kloe?" Zayn said confusedly as the group turned to face her, "What's wrong?"

"It- It's Karen and David," she paused, catching her breath, "They've both been burnt to the crisp. Tyreese is there right now. You guys need to-" She was instantly cut off by the coughing that erupted in her chest.

The group's faces fell as they watched the young woman practically cough her lungs up. Once her never ending coughs came to an end, she nervously lifted her gaze up to the group, who all sent her a look of sympathy.

She started nodding her head, "I- I think that's my cue to go to A-Block..." She turned around, weakly making her way over to the building she had just rushed out of.

The group of five behind her shared a glance before Rick, Daryl and Carol promptly followed her. Vickie and Zayn on the other hand, stood shocked as they watched Kloe weakly make her way back to A-Block.

"Klo, we'll get Hershel or Caleb to come check you up, alright?" Rick sympathetically told her, earning an immediate nod from her. "Do you need help getting there?"

"No, I'll be fine," Kloe dismissed, holding onto the wall beside the door, panting heavily. She motioned her head to the side, beckoning the three inside. "Might wanna hurry before Tyreese loses himself."

They all nodded, rushing inside to get to the man. Sealing her eyelids for three seconds, she reopened them and looked over to the side to face Zayn and Vickie. They kept their eyes on her, their lips parted with shock.

Her lips formed into a straight line. "Tell Glenn not to worry," she mouthed, walking inside the block and slamming the door closed behind her, leaving her in darkness.

Zayn unhurriedly swerved his head to the left, noticing the look on Vickie's face. "I have no idea what she just mouthed to us, but I'm a hundred percent certain she said 'tell Glenn'."

...

Someone roughly continually shook the shoulders that belonged to Kloe Rhee, attempting to awaken her. She was slumped up against a wall, her head limply leaning forward.

"Kloe, wake the hell up," a gruff voice, which evidently belonged to Daryl Dixon, quietly shouted at her. He was the one that was shaking and patting her shoulders.

Caleb crouched down beside her, the back of his hand making its way to her clammy forehead. Subsequently, his hand returned to his knee and he drifted his eyes over to the Dixon man. "Her temperature's way too over average."

Daryl only ignored the man, lifting Kloe's face up by her chin. The back of her head rested against the wall just like her back did, sweat droplets slithering down her ghostly pale skin.

Absentmindedly, his hand reached up for her sealed eyelid, placing a gentle grip on it as he lifted it. Her dull, dark brown eye stared back at him. The door, that was the entrance to the block, bursted open, causing Caleb to jolt backward from the sudden loud noise.

Daryl and Caleb both turned their heads to the side, noticing the worried man that searched around frantically. Glenn's eyes landed on the three on the ground, his eyes instantaneously extending as he stared at his wife.

He rushed to the ground between Daryl and Caleb. Zayn had informed Glenn about Kloe's illness, and he didn't take second thoughts to get to her. They all knew that the aggressive flu killed within twelve hours, so upon seeing Kloe in the state she was in, he couldn't be even more afraid than he already was.

"Kloe? Kloe, hey," he panicked, wrapping his hand around her sweaty ones. He swerved his head over to the doctor beside him. "Is she okay?"

"I'm fine," she croaked out in a mutter. "You're being dramatic. I was just sleeping." His head snapped back over to her, expecting to see her looking at him, but her eyes were still glued shut.

Both Glenn and Daryl looked over at Caleb, expecting a more believable answer to be said. He exhaled heavily, standing up to his feet. "Lift her up," he told them. "Take her to one of the cells. She needs rest."

Compliantly, the pair both grabbed each of her arms, wrapping them over their shoulders. Kloe's head slumped forward again, a light cough escaping her. "Why are you in here?" she wondered, her brows pushing against each other.

Caleb pushed open a gate to a cell, positioning himself to the side, forming room for the woman to be put inside. They stepped inside, carefully setting Kloe down on the single bed that was waiting to be slept in.

Daryl stood up, taking a few steps back as Glenn laid his wife on the bed flatly. With the faint light from the windows on the side of the building, her soaked skin became more detailed.

Glenn grasped onto a rag on the stool beside the bed, pressing it against her skin. Kloe's eyes partened, softening as she watched her anxious husband. Her hand snaked down to Glenn's, squeezing it weakly. "I'm going to be okay."

Her debilitated eyes were using all the power to stay open as she watched her caring, altruistic husband brush back any loose strand of dark, damp hair from her perspiring skin. Constantly shaking his head, he rubbed circles on the back of her hand. "I'm staying here."

"No, you're not," she declined, her voice beginning to crack. "You're going to go back outside and continue with whatever you were doing. I'll be okay."

"I'm not leaving you, Klo." He continued to refuse for a solid ten minutes, but after many desperate pleas from his wife - who was hard to say no to - he had no choice but to leave her.

He defeatedly left her, and the moment he did, she drifted off into the deepest sleep she had in a period of time. Her body was eager to get the rest that she ought to have.

Although, while she settled into her slumber, her mind opted to replay a distinguished memory that she had obliterated over time.

...

"Why are you doing this shit at this age, kid?" the guy that Kloe never knew the name of asked her, frowning deeply at the seventeen-year-old as he set down the small bag of what looked like small white crystals in her hand.

She nervously handed the brunette man who was definitely in his late twenties a twenty-dollar bill, a ten-dollar bill and a five-dollar bill, adding up to thirty-five dollars.

A few meters behind her - hiding behind a graffitied concrete wall that belonged to the abandoned parking lot - waited her best friend, Norah Byrd. She had driven Kloe to the abandoned lot, where she had planned to meet with the unknown man.

The Schmidt teen swiftfully shoved the bag of substance into her plain back hoodie's pocket. "Guess there's really only one way to put up with this messed up world, right? Inject it all away," Kloe said, biting the flesh in her cheek as the cold January breeze brushed against her.

"I'm just sayin', this is not the kind of stuff you wanna get stuck into. Especially at your age," the man reasoned, watching her sadly as he stuffed the bunch of bills into his own pocket.

He despised drug-dealing, but since he had been fired from his job a month prior, and had to look after his newborn son since his wife passed, it seemed that drug-dealing and his small job as a barista was the only way of living.

Kloe, on the other hand, also despised it. But having doing it for the last year of her young life, she had gotten prone to it - not having a single affect to it whatsoever.

According to Kloe's calender, it had been exactly eight-hundred and ninety-six days since her father, Jason, had died. Nothing in Kloe's life was going great. Her mother, Elisa, was controlling her daughter like she was a puppet on string.

After her brother, Zayn, had turned eighteen, he moved out straight away. He had to get away from their mother. She had turned into something that neither the Schmidt siblings could recognize anymore.

He had moved to a whole new state, leaving his little sister behind with their monster of a mother. He had moved to Georgia, and Zayn always checked in on her, and he was getting better.

He told her about a new friend he had made as he got a job at a place for pizzas. Kloe would smile everytime she called her brother on her flip phone, her whole mood changing as she listened to her brother's contagious laugh.

Kloe blinked repeatedly, her dark circles under her eyes making it clearly visible that she wanted to leave the parking lot that scared the shit out of her. She sent a single nod to the man, abruptly spinning on her heel as she rushed over to her best friend's bright white Toyota Camry that her parents got her when she passed her driving test.

Kloe pulled open the car door, promptly placing herself into the car as she let out a sigh of relief from feeling the hot air hitting her face like how a cloud moves out of the way from the sun, the humid air hitting your skin.

She shut the door, rubbing her chilled hands together to create warmth. Norah watched her best friend, "Did you get it?" Kloe reached into her pocket, pulling out the small packet of the drug out. Norah exhaled heavily, twisting the gear as she began to drive out of the parking lot. "Can't believe you wasted thirty-five dollars on shit like that."

"At least it's not my money," Kloe reasoned, shrugging with one shoulder as she stared down at the substance.

"Can you kindly not spill any of that shit on this car? I will get murdered by my dad if I get pulled over for some drugs for your stupid ass mom." Norah forced a smile at Kloe as she pointed at the small bag. "What even is it? It looks like salt."

Kloe laughed, "It's cathinone - it is technically salt. It's more like bath salt, though."

"You mean, you're supposed to swim around in that shit?" Norah thought out loud, her eyelids parting.

"They sell them in stores, it's just- it's not the same type. So no, you do not swim in this. Don't even think about it." Kloe pointed at Norah's face warningly, sending her a don't-you-dare expression.

"Ugh, just chuck it out the window, Klo. Your mom needs to go to rehab. You have to talk her into it," Norah stated as she rested her elbow on the car door, driving through the street to drop her best friend back to her house. She stopped at a red light, shooting her dark brown eyes over to the window-roller beside Kloe's shaky leg. She leaned sideways, wheeling the window down.

She latched onto the small bag of cathinone, expecting to grab it with just one small tug - but no - Kloe held a strong grip on it. "My mom will actually kill me, Norah. I'm not kidding."

The Byrd girl sighed, "Do you want your mom off this crap or not? You have to try, Kloe. Don't give up."

...

Don't give up. Those were the last words before Kloe's eyes shot open, an immediate horrible-sounding cough following afterward. She sat up within an instant, bringing the back of her hand to her lips as she coughed repeatedly.

She attempted to catch her breath, but everytime she tried, it was as if something was blocking it and made her choke.

She managed to catch her breath, relieving as she felt the oxygen enter her lungs. She felt a warm liquid soak into her skin on the back of her hand, making her brows furrow as she instantly looked down at it.

Her eyes spreaded worriedly as she stared at the splatters of blood painted on her hand. Upon hearing heavy footsteps approaching her cell, her head snapped over to the open gate, where Hershel Greene stood.

"You've been out for a long time," he spoke, taking a step into her cell that she rested in. Kloe frowned at the man - since it only felt like she had drifted off for five minutes after Glenn had left her.

"For how long?" she croaked, her voice barely even noticeable. But thankfully, Hershel heard her.

"More or less a whole day. Never knew someone who could take a snooze that long," he warmly smiled down at her before offering her a flask of an unknown liquid. "Here, this will help."

Kloe weakly held onto the flask, bringing it up to her dry, off-colored lips as she swallowed mouthfulls of the substance. She grimaced from the pain that exploded in her throat, making her bring the flask away from her.

Her ears caught onto more distant coughing, making her head turn to the wall - which was the direction the coughing came from. She warily turned back to face Hershel. "I thought I was the only one?"

Hershel took a deep breath as he watched the Rhee woman with saddened eyes, "You're certainly not the only one now. This cell block is almost filled with people that are sick. Even Caleb."

Kloe's head flopped forward sadly, feeling sympathy for the people that had to deal with the torture she had. Her mind then traveled to the last person she had seen before she fell into her twenty-four hour rest.

"Is Glenn okay?" Kloe questioned, searching Hershel's eyes desparetly for a specific answer.

Hershel's lips formed into a tight straight line, standing back up to his feet. "He's out here." Kloe took that answer as a sign that she should go see him - which is exactly what she planned on doing.

Kloe attempted to stand up from her bed, and when she did, her head pounded like a hammer was bashing against it, causing her balance to contort into nothing. She caught onto the sink beside her, pushing all her weight onto it.

Hershel held out his hands in case she had completely fallen, which fortunately she hadn't. Once her balance had returned to her, she delicately pushed her weak body off the sink, pressing her hands against the metal steel in the doorframe.

She poked her head out of the door, looking off to the right of her where the young girl, Lizzie Samuels, sat, her knees brought up to her chest. Her head snapped to the left, her face falling when she caught the eyes of her pale husband.

Forcefully, she dragged her fragile legs over to him. He was staring at the ground, breathing heavily. Her heart dropped when she got a closer look of him. He looked so... ghostly like.

He had exceedingly dark circles under his eyes, which stood out on his pale face. His skin was reflecting the faint, dim lights that shined through the windows.

Glenn unhurriedly twisted his head to the person approaching him. Despite the shadows making it almost impossible to make out who it was who began to kneel down in front of him, his eyes lightened.

Once she properly knelt down, she held onto the metal railing beside her - her clammy hands causing it to be difficult. "You're okay," Glenn whispered to her with relief, slowly lifting up his hand to her face. He stroked back a strand of damp, sweat-covered hair behind her ear as a bead of sweat dribbled down to her chin.

She watched him sadly. She had never seen Glenn as fragile as he was right then. The way he looked, acted etc. it seemed like it wasn't real. "You shouldn't have come in here," she softly told him. "You would've been okay if you didn't."

"You don't know that..." he responded raspily, his eyes dropping to her hand that gripped onto the railing, keeping her up steadily. "Is that...?" He pointed to her hand, making her look over at it.

Her vision then lowered to the ground, swallowing thickly. She flinched to the raging pain in her throat as she swallowed, taking her breath away. She slumped herself onto the ground, pressing her back against the metal railing.

"Why don't you go rest on the bed in the cell I was-" she was cut off by her own self, coughing whatever contents managed to be sitting in her throat and chest. Kloe tasted the iron on her tongue, a weak look of disgust on her face as she lifted her head back up.

"No, you go back," Glenn refused. "You're more sick than I am. Go." Kloe blinked glumly. She didn't want to leave him on an uncomfortable, metal flooring.

Glenn managed to gain all the strength his body had to offer and lean forward. He grasped onto Kloe's hand, delicately squeezing it supportively. "I'll be fine, trust me." He knew that he didn't know if he was going to be okay, obviously. He didn't even know if he would make it to the end of the day - it didn't feel like it.

Kloe thought the same. They continuously told each other they'd be okay no matter what. But deep down, both thought the worst. Kloe wondered always if she coughed one more time, would it be her last breath? She had no idea on what was to come.

She defeatedly nodded, flicking a few strands of damp hair out of her vision as she climbed to her shaky feet. She held onto the railing for support, slowly and carefully making her way to the cell she had just walked out of.

Albeit she had slept for more or less twenty-four hours, she still felt exhausted.

She felt like she could sit or lay anywhere and just knock out into a deep sleep that held the dreams she loved but found weird.

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words: 4021
7th december 2022
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i can't believe it's almost 2023 already- what hte fucj