WHITE FLAG

chapter fifty-eight : checking out on the prison bus
{ season four - episode ten }

SHE STARED DOWN at the gray concrete flooring, cracks slithering through it. Birds in the distance sang, grateful that they were out of reach from the dead. Perhaps, maybe if so many things didn't go to shit that day, things would've been recalled as peaceful.

Kloe Rhee held her head low as her long, raven brown hair fell down the sides. Her hair had gotten so long that it was like it was almost touching the ground from where she sat. It was only inches away from her waist, performing natural curls the further down her hair got.

Sasha Williams had wrapped the woman's left arm firmly with bandages from one of the backpacks they managed to grab onto before rushing out of the prison's premises.

After she had finished patching up Kloe, she covered Bob's shoulder with more white bandages. Maggie Greene scraped her knife across the ground around four meters away from her best friend.

And lastly, Vickie Parson sat by herself, staring up at the trees as she sealed her eyes shut. She continuously wished for her daughter to be safe, unharmed. She knew that was a low possibility for Brianna to be safe, but all she could do was hope.

For the first time, Kloe had been separated from her family for good. She had no idea where any of them were, her heart feeling like someone had ripped into it and pulled out right there in front of her.

It was like someone had dropped it onto the ground, like no one was there to save her while she bled out. She felt the weakness. She felt sadness. She felt anger. She felt out of place.

The anger within her started to take over, causing her to grit her teeth with all the strength she had. She lifted her raging eyes slightly up to the water that she was sitting by, cupped her hands together and grabbed a handful of water.

Without thinking, she splashed her face with the water, taking her breath away from the sudden coldness that seeped onto her skin. Her body shuddered, wringing her hands dry as she stood up.

She watched over the creek one last time before turning around to Maggie. She crouched down, her face solemn as she eyed the blade that was being scraped across the ground.

"Hey," said Kloe in the softest tone she could do. She gently set her hand on Maggie's shoulder, covered by her maroon colored shirt. Maggie lifted her head to the side, looking at the other woman with saddened eyes. She had gone through so much in one day - they all had. Her father was brutally murdered in front of her, and she had no idea where her sister was. "We'll find her."

Maggie managed to smile slightly, thankful for Kloe to be there with her. Kloe's ears then piqued on footsteps behind her and the Greene woman, not having to look to know that it was Sasha.

"How is he?" Maggie asked, her eyes trailing back down to her pocket knife.

"Bleeding stopped," Sasha responded, looking down at the two women who were still crouched down. "He'll be alright." There was a long pause for a while, the only sound being the creek's miniature waterfalls in the distance and Maggie slashing her knife across the concrete. "Got the water to our backs. Decent vantage points from the bank. I'm thinking we camp here for the night."

"I'm good with that," Maggie answered honestly, still not lifting her gaze. Kloe on the other hand had other plans going on in her mind.

She rose to her feet, turning around to face the Williams woman as Maggie finally looked up at the two, the scraping coming to an end. "You'll all be safe here."

Sasha's arms dropped to her sides as she frowned at the woman in front of her. Maggie then also stood up, watching her best friend closely as she also furrowed her brows.

"The bus got out," Kloe replied, expecting the looks of confusion to ease after replying. Nothing changed. "Glenn got out. I know which way the bus went. I was the one that put the directions in so if an emergency was to occur, they'd follow that route."

"Klo," Sasha began, shaking her head slowly, "With any luck, the bus is gone. They'd be gone a long time by now."

"And I don't care how far it is. I'm going to find it. I'm going to find him," she stated firmly, pointing down to the ground. She was not giving in. She had to find her husband, then her brother.

The talk between the three caught Vickie and Bob's attention, making them join in. "Alone?" Sasha wondered, her brows raising skeptically as she eyed the one small pocket knife in her sheath - the one she found on the highway back a year before, "With just that?"

"Yeah. It wouldn't matter if I had a weapon or not. I'll still go."

"Kloe, let's just wait till the morning, and we can all go with you-" Maggie started, but was cut off by the Parson woman who had joined in on the conversation less than a minute prior.

"We won't let you go by yourself, Kloe. You know that." Vickie exhaled heavily, giving the young woman a look Kloe knew all too well. It was that certain look that would make you give in. Puppy eyes but not puppy eyes.

"Then you're gonna have to," Kloe remarked, setting a hand on her hip. "I promised him I'd find him. And I am going to. I'm going to get him and I will come back to get all of you. We both will."

"Kloe-"

"No. I'm going."

"I'll come with you." This statement made Kloe come to a halt, her dark eyes landing on Vickie Parson. The older woman broke her gaze away from the Rhee woman, looking between the other three. "I'll go with her. You can catch up tomorrow morning if you'd like. Just know that we'll be okay."

"We cannot split up. Not now," Sasha reasoned, but Kloe simply ignored her and walked away.

"I want you all to stay here for the night; rest up. If you want to follow, do so in the morning," she said. Vickie gave them one final glance before following the younger woman. However, Kloe came to another stop, whipping her head over her shoulder as she noticed Bob and Maggie beginning to follow. "I can do this on my own."

Kloe didn't mean for her comment to be harsh, but that was how it came out like. She sent them an apologetic look before continuing to stroll forward, Vickie on her heels.

"I don't break promises."

...

Right there and then, she felt like falling down to her knees and screaming as loud as she could. She had no idea where any of her family were, and it was the worst psychological pain.

Half of it she could actually feel in her heart as she dragged her feet along an abandoned road. Kloe stared straight ahead of her, occasionally glancing up at the signs to check if she was on the right road.

Two meters behind her, followed Vickie Parson. She held a long machete in her left hand and a gun wrapped around her torso, scanning the area as they walked and walked and walked.

"Kloe," Vickie called out to the younger woman, who never stopped pacing forward, "Maybe we should take a rest for a little while. We've been walking for a solid thirty minutes."

"You can stop," Kloe suggested, "I'm not."

"Are you sure we're going the right way--?"

"Yes," Kloe interrupted, her eyes still narrowed ahead of her. She was not giving up. It was like a string was pulling her from her heart, as if Glenn was calling out to her. She couldn't stop.

She flipped her knife she kept with her, catching the handle before she could hold the wrong side and hold the blade. As much as she felt like squeezing the blade out of pure frustration, she knew it would only add more problems.

Her arm still screamed with pain, a hole still present. She clenched her jaw and sealed her eyes shut firmly, mentally yelling at her arm to stop hurting.

Her eyes reopened, and they landed on something unexpected. Kloe stopped dead in her tracks, almost making Vickie bump into her from behind. Kloe's eyes lightened, her heart beat picking up.

There it was. The prison bus. Except, it wasn't as alive as she would've expected it to be - knowing that all of the members of the prison were inside of it. Including her husband.

She sucked in a deep breath, releasing it shakily as she watched it. It looked...abandoned. Without hesitation, Kloe regained her sudden energy and began jogging toward it.

"Kloe, wait!" Vickie shouted from behind, also beginning to run since she had no other choice. The Parson woman could tell that there was no one in the bus - not alive anyway.

It was too quiet for there to be people inside.

Kloe came to a slow stop when she reached the back, her heavy breathing being the only sound they could hear. Surely she would be able to hear something from inside she thought.

Her eyes darted over to the side where the entrance to the bus was, moving forward. She stared at the dirt-covered windows, attempting to see through the thick layer of dirt. But there was no point.

As she inched closer toward the door, with Vickie by her side, someone jumped at the window from the inside, causing the pair to jump back in sudden shock. It was a walker. Inside the bus.

It set both of its hands against the window, snarling loudly as it looked down at the Rhee and Parson Women. Then, another walker poked its head out of a broken window, reaching out its hand to reach them.

Kloe's heart fell, her expression falling as she soon realized that she recognized the people that were now walkers. Everyone on the bus had turned.

Her chest tightened, her bottom lip beginning to tremble as she shook her head lightly. She turned away, sharing a glance with Vickie. "You should go. Go back to the others," she stated barely above a whisper as her voice cracked with sadness.

She brushed past the older woman, sharply turning the corner again as she came face-to-face with the back emergency exit on the bus. "Kloe-" Vickie began, her eyes broadening as she watched Kloe lift her hands up to the door handle, "Kloe, stop."

She didn't listen, wanting to know for sure if her husband was in there with the rest of the walkers. It was only until Vickie moved forward and removed the woman's hand from the door that Kloe snapped her head over to her.

"I have to know, Vick," Kloe told her firmly, her voice slightly high pitched from the lump that was forming inside. "I have to know if he's in there."

"Okay, okay," Vickie repeated softly, holding her hands on Kloe's shoulders. "Let me help you. We can do it together. We have to be smart about this, remember? Let one out at a time."

After a solid five seconds, she gave in and slowly nodded, taking steps back as Vickie set down her gun onto the concrete beneath them. "I'll stand at the door and let them out. You take them out, alright?"

Then, Kloe took more steps back, earning a confused look from the other woman. "I have to see their faces. Maybe someone else got on the bus while we were talking."

The pair both gave each other a single nod as Vickie pushed down the handle, grunting as she used all her strength to keep it from falling open from the weight of the walkers pushing against it.

A single walker was released. Vickie slammed the door shut as Kloe tightened her grip around her knife. She examined the walker's face, not seeming to recognize it.

She stepped forward, kicking the walker in the shin. It fell to the ground with a sudden thud, Kloe hastily crouching down and driving her knife through its skull.

Standing back up, she sent the woman another nod. Another walker was let out, this time being someone Kloe recognized from when she was sick in A-Block.

She put the walker out of its misery, landing on top of the other walker.

They repeated the same steps another two times before something just had to go wrong. "I can't hold it," Vickie strained, being pushed back from the dozen walkers leaning against the door.

Kloe felt her eyes widen as she watched the walkers pile out, falling onto the ground one-by-one. Maybe if she didn't know if Glenn was still alive and breathing, she would've immediately lunged forward and taken out as many walkers as she could. But it felt like everything was blocked out around her.

She only froze and stared, eyeing each walker that stood up. Vickie rushed toward her gun that was getting trampled on. Although, before she could wrap her hand around it, a walker pushed her backward.

Kloe continued to stare at the current geek that got closer and closer toward her. Once it got around one meter away from her was when she snapped back into reality, her ears beginning to ring as she shoved her knife into the side of the walker's head.

It fell to the ground, and unexpectedly, another walker appeared from the side, clutching onto Kloe's shoulder. Just as it was about to bite into her arm, a bullet pierced through the air. The walker fell backward, releasing Kloe's arm.

She whipped her head up, looking straight at Vickie who aimed her gun high. She panted heavily, fresh walker blood splattered across her.

Simultaneously, they set their attention back onto the walkers that still dragged their feet over to them. And simply, they took them out. Vickie shot some down, while Kloe stuffed her knife inside their brain.

As she killed more of them, the more frustrated she got. She only recognized some of them from when she was sick, but they weren't anyone she knew well.

With the final walker making its way over to Kloe, she shoved her knife into her sheath. She clenched her jaw tightly, taking harsh steps over to the walker as she wrapped her hand around its long hair. She dragged it along with her over to the side of the bus.

And with the sudden strength she gained, she bashed the walker's head against the bright yellow paint, blood splashing onto it as she pulled the walker's head away, only to then bash it again.

She repetitively bashed it again and again until the face of the walker was deformed. Kloe held onto her knife again, simply stabbing the walker in the head with it.

She released her firm grip of the walker's hair. It fell to the ground lifelessly and Kloe stared at it with an expression of present anger. Deep down, she knew she looked completely insane.

And that's when the thought hit her. She looked completely insane. Taking slow steps back away from the walker's body, she muttered out a few apologies, tears forming in her sockets.

She shook her head, ashamed at herself from what she had just done. Never in a million years would she have done something murderous to someone she once knew, despite the fact it was a walker.

She swallowed thickly, bile rising as she looked over at all the dead bodies in front of her and Vickie. Breaking her gaze away from the horror, she set her eyes on the wide open door.

Without hesitation, she darted over to it. "Kloe, you should let me-" Vickie cut herself off as she watched the woman haul herself into the bus.

Kloe straightened her back as she stood at the very back of the bus, the punted smell making her lift the back of her hand to her nose as she scrunched up her face.

She eyes the scene around her. There was blood everywhere. Covering the seats, the walls, the windows. Cautiously, she walked forward. She looked down at each row of seats with apprehension.

She released a shaky breath as she caught sight of an eaten body down to the bone. She kept her eyes on it for a moment, a single tear dribbling down her cheek.

Gurgling erupted from the ground of the bus in front of her, making her eyes snap over to it. There was a walker, trapped underneath someone who hadn't turned yet.

The walker clawed the ground as it attempted to rise to its feet, but was too weak to break free from the body on top. Kloe hesitated as she watched it. It felt like her heart had stopped when she saw the similarities it had to the man she was married to.

She had to see who it was. She turned over to the right, pulling herself onto one of the seats closest to the door. She leaned forward, pushing the door open with force. It bashed and clanged as it fell open itself.

She clutched onto the dead person's body, pushing it outside of the door. Now, the gurgling from the walkers turned into loud snarls, bringing Kloe's attention back to it as she hopped back off the seat.

She stood straight as she waited patiently for the walker to rise to its feet. And when it did, she could've never felt more relieved when she noticed that it wasn't Glenn.

She drove her knife into its skull as it reached out for her. She breathed heavily as the body stumbled down to the ground, finding it the right time to let it all out.

She sat herself down on one of the seats, her face creasing up. Tears flowed out of her eyes like a river, not knowing if she was crying either sad tears or relief tears or happy tears or angry tears.

Overall, she figured it was a mixture of all of them as she buried her face in her hands. Glenn had made it out. He wasn't there. But then that either meant he was all alone, or he was still at the prison with hopefully someone else.

Just the thought of her husband possibly being alive brought a sad smile to her face.

...

"Hey!" a voice and a light slap across the face managed to wake him up from whatever he had fallen into. His eyes squinted from the bright light above him, shining down on his face.

He tried his hardest to adjust what he was looking at, and he noticed that a figure was leaning over him, patting his face. It was a girl. A girl with long brown hair.

He blinked numerous times, until finally he saw exactly who was over him. "Brianna?" Glenn murmured, weakly pulling himself up as Brianna sat on her legs, her hands clasping together as she watched her brother-in-law with worried eyes.

"You could have chosen any time to pass out and you choose now?" She pointed down at the increasing herd beneath the small walkway going from building to building below them.

Glenn grasped onto his gun that was beside him, regaining all his strength as he stood up within an instant, taking Brianna by surprise. He looked around frantically over the partially destroyed prison grounds. "Kloe?" he called out, expecting a reply. "Kloe!"

"She's not here," Brianna responded, looking down at the walkers beside the man. "No one's here."

Glenn exhaled heavily, his expression falling as he looked over at the girl. With the back of his hand, he wiped across his forehead, a trail of blood printing itself on his hand.

"You freakin' passed out down there and I had to drag you all the way up here," Brianna mumbled to him, not missing the sense of worry radiating off the man. She couldn't blame him. And she couldn't blame herself for feeling the same. "And then when we got up here...the assholes blew this up. It mainly got you though."

Glenn would have guessed that it was mainly him that got the most damage, hence the blood trickling down his forehead and cheek. "We- we gotta get outta here."

"No shit. Fast, too," she added, tightening her grasp on her pistol as he did the same with his rather large gun.

The Rhee man turned around, extending out his arm as he pushed open the door that was in front of them. Simultaneously, the in-laws both raised their weapons as the door creaked open, revealing nothing but darkness.

Glenn reached up inside, flicking on one of the battery powered lanterns. As the warm light powered on, the pair finally saw that they were in a hallway. The door slammed behind them, making Brianna jolt slightly.

"Stay behind me," Glenn ordered the teenager behind him as he lifted the lantern close to his face.

"Hey, you're the person who's sick and fragile. Maybe I should take lead-"

"And you're a teenager and family. Not happening."

It took them approximately five minutes to walk through the long hallway. For Brianna it felt like it was never ending. They finally reached the inside entrance to C-Block.

Glenn pushed the metal bar door open, entering the deserted room. "You weren't kidding when you said no one's here..." Glenn said, a hint of sadness in his tone as he looked around.

"No...I already looked everywhere. Everyone is gone. They all fled like an hour ago." Brianna's eyes flickered to the ground as Glenn coughed from the smoke that lingered in the air. "You should get your things out of your cell. I'm gonna do the same."

"Yeah..." Glenn agreed quietly, his eyes landing on the cell that him and his wife had shared. "Be careful."

Once the girl sprinted up the staircase to go to the room her and her mother shared, Glenn aimed his gun at his cell. He carefully stepped forward, sliding the white sheet to the side as he trained his gun at nothing.

He sighed, lowering his gun to his side as his eyes landed on the messily made bed. It was exactly how he had left it the night before he got sick - the night he had to sleep alone while his wife was unconscious in another cell block.

He strode forward, setting his gun down on the bed as he set his knee down on the ground. Reaching for something underneath the bed, he grabbed onto the familiar armor that was ready for emergencies.

"Bria!" he shouted from his cell, earning a loud 'yeah' from the girl in the cell above him. "Put on your armor! We gotta-" He was cut short from a cough erupting from his chest.

As if she already knew what Glenn had planned, she replied with a simply 'got it' and went back to what she was doing.

He stood up from the ground, still holding the prison guard body armor. He turned around, taking a look across the room that was completely deserted. The hole in his stomach grew bigger as his saddened eyes landed on something pressed against the wall.

Kloe's bow.

It sat there, like it knew it would never get used again. But Glenn knew that he couldn't let that happen. Adjusting the armor in his hands so he was only holding it in one hand, with the other he grabbed onto her bow and quiver.

Except it was completely useless grabbing onto anything at all. He dropped it all to the ground, collapsing onto the bed and lay flat across it, exhausted.

He stared up at the ceiling, only blinking a few times as he tried to process that everyone including Kloe was gone. He was left behind. And so was Brianna.

His hands lifted up to his head, gripping onto the roots of his hair out of frustration. Tears formed in his eyes before he turned on his side, his glossy eyes then landing on something else.

The two polaroid photographs. One of Kloe, and one of himself. He sat back up, extending out his arm as he grabbed onto the one of his wife. That was his breaking point.

Seeing his wife, who looked more peaceful than peaceful itself with no problems in front of her. The very hour before shit hit the fan. He clutched the polaroid in his palms, his face scrunching up with tears as he brought his hands close to his face.

Even from above him, Brianna finished packing, and she could hear her brother-in-law sob. She pursed her lips with sorrow.

Both of them were split away from their families.

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words: 4141
17th january 2023
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I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN AGES i've js been dealing with mental health n all that shi. i'm still not that better yet, but i feel well enough to write again!
ANYWAY kloe being alone is not a good sight tbh.