LOLITA.
xxiv. | ❝ baby girl. ❞

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SHANE MEMORISED every freckle on the snowy breadth of Cassandra's supple form, that night.

They rose at noon, too wrapped up in one another to notice the distant billows of smoke that danced above the trees outside and painted the sky pearl. If they had, perhaps they would have had some idea of what was to come.

***

The woods were thick with walkers, shambling their way from the prison. Cassandra and Shane were accustomed to one, perhaps two, congregating at their gates, but now, they loitered in droves, leaning heavily against the tall fence that encircled the small house. It was almost as though they were drawn by the distant scent of human flesh.

Cassandra wandered into the garden, intent upon watering the small patch of vegetables she'd been nurturing over the past few months. The seeds had been purloined from a nearby gas station. But she heard the dreadful, guttural moans before the sheer stench of death curled into her nostrils.

Perplexed, she ran back inside, her feet still bare and the plants unwatered.

"Shane!" she called, skidding to a halt at the doorway of his bedroom. He was seated at the foot of the bed and pulling on a pair of socks while she clamoured breathlessly. "Walkers... At the gate..."

"How many?"

"I don't know, I didn't stop to look. It sounded like there were a lot."

"Shit," he muttered, yanking on his boots before picking up his knife from the bedside table and running his thumb across its handle.

Shane left the house with Cassandra in hot pursuit. He approached the tall gate reluctantly, reaching through the slats and ramming the blade into their alarmingly soft skulls and watching it slide through like a spoon through butter each time. One by one, they dropped with a thud, until all that remained were a dozen corpses piled up on the dusty path and a splattering of blood across the dark-eyed deputy's cheek.

"It's weird," he stated blankly. "You don't normally get as many of 'em 'round here."

"What do you think it is?"

"Maybe a camp nearby got overrun, who knows?"

"Another camp?" Cassandra's brown eyes glittered. She was anxious, on edge. Maybe even a little excited. "But surely we would've bumped into some of the survivors?"

Shane shrugged. "I don't know, baby..." He faltered, glancing upwards at the thick, grey fingers of smoke dragging across the sky, then frowned. A knot tightened in his stomach.

The auburn haired beauty followed his gaze. "Maybe we should help them..."

"No," he said firmly.

"What if they have children?"

"Not our problem."

"They could have left behind supplies."

"We've already got supplies. We went on a run yesterday, Cass. It's dangerous, goin' out when we don't need to."

"What if... What if it's Rick, Andrea, and the others?"

"Nawh, they'll be at the CDC." Shane ran a hand through his dark curls, tousling them effortlessly.

Cassandra stared at him, her molten chocolate whorls unblinking. "But what if they're not?"

Shane paused, hearing nothing but the sound of his own heart pulsing beneath his rumpled shirt and the low groan of even more walkers stumbling towards the gate, lured in by their heated discussion. He hated to say no to his darling princess, and a small part of him wondered if she was right. What if it was Rick's group?

He felt it was his duty to at least try to help his best friend if he could. He supposed it was the least he could do after abandoning Rick in the hospital and sleeping with his wife.

"Alright, alright," he groaned, his reluctance palpable. "We'll go. So you can quit lookin' at me like that."

Cassandra had been making doe-eyes at Shane, pouting her sweet peony lips ever so slightly in a way that she knew he never could resist, but now she clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her bare feet. "Yay! Road trip!"

"Just a quick drive, to check things out," he corrected her. "C'mon, baby girl."

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