3 Years Later...

Breathless. I'm assuming that the term was not the one to use at the moment. Always running and worrying for no reason, other than the dead walking among us and the constant terror that the living causes us.

   Sorrow and despair is what I feel every single time that I take a seat in front of Don's grave. The homemade wooden cross at a good length above the even dirt. He died a few months after the start of the apocalypse, which was over three years ago. Surprisingly, it wasn't because of the dead or even the living. His cancer took a turn for the worst, resulting in his bitter death.

   My twin brother, Paul, and I came to the Hilltop, looking and hoping for security and civilization. We had all of that... Until the Saviors came in and just ruined everything that we had worked so hard to build. Gregory, the Hilltop's leader, just lets them come on in and do whatever they want – and take whatever they want, too. Just as long as they don't kill any of us, Gregory says.

   They've killed some of us before. Negan, who is the leader of the Saviors, single-handily came in with his stupid barbed-wire baseball bat – that he named Lucille – and killed some of our people. He killed a kid, only sixteen years old, and my fiancé, Kent.

   He talked back to Negan and he didn't like that very much. Before I – or anyone else – could process this, Negan already had Lucille out and ready to go. He yanked her back and nailed Kent in the head, resulting in him to fall back and Negan to continue his bitter kill on my fiancé. That was two years old, though.

   I didn't think that I would survive his death, but I did, somehow. It was all thanks to Paul, who is now known as Jesus to everyone. Nobody ever calls him his real name, except for me, of course. If it wasn't for Paul, I wouldn't be alive today. I really do love my twin brother more than anything else that's left here.

   Being here in the heart of Washington, we came here to find a cure. We didn't find shit, except for the Hilltop. At first, it was great. But, then, the Saviors came and it hasn't been the same since.

   Everyone at the Hilltop have jobs to do. Paul usually is the one that goes out and gets enough supplies for us and the Saviors. They come and go as they please. They just love to tease me, just to get under mine and Paul's skin. They know not to try anything, though, because Paul will put them on their ass quick.

   Negan has this weird obsession with me to a point where he asked me, a week after he killed Kent, if I would be his wife and he wouldn't ever kill any of our people again. I declined immediately and told him to go f-ck himself. I even went as fair as spitting right in his face while he held this smug smirk among his lips.

   By this point, I was just asking to be killed by him. Yet, he didn't do that. As a matter of fact, he wiped the spit off of his face and smiled like nothing ever happened. He sighed and said calmly to me, "Tessa, you shouldn't have done that, but I'm going to let it pass just this once. Don't let it happen again or I'll kill your brother next."

   He knew that if he killed me, that it wouldn't exactly be a tragedy, but killing my brother would literally kill the Hilltop. They need him more than they need me, to be honest. I've only survived this far because of my brother, after all.

   I've worked my way up in the ranks, of course, since then and am now somebody that you don't f-ck with whatsoever. I'm unf-ckable, as I like to say. Most times, Paul and I go out to find supplies. He goes one way and I go the other. We can take care of ourselves, after all.

   Currently, I am on my own solo mission – without Paul and without the rest of the Hilltop to follow me around. I told Paul, when we departed, that I was going out to look for supplies for the Saviors. In all honesty, I'm not. I'm going out for myself.

   I spotted a biter coming my way in this empty and abandoned street. It growled and held its arms up for me to just fall right into. Instead, I went ahead and tripped it. It fall down, so I immediately took out my handy knife and put it to rest alas.

   I was going to just kill it and leave, but what I didn't notice was the herd passing the bridge up ahead at first. To survive them, I'm going to need to just blend in with them. With a heavy sigh, I turned it over and cut it open just enough to get some blood and guts out with.

   All over my clean outfit, I smeared its guts and blood all over me. This was never very easy to do or smell, for that matter. So, now blending in with the rest, I kept moving forward and dead.

   They stumbled passed me, paying me no mind at all, as I went on my own path. Maybe I should go back and kill them all before they become a problem later, but I'll save it for another battle, I guess.

   "I'm going to miss you so much," I sobbed to Don, who was slowly slipping away. "I'm sorry that I couldn't cure your cancer, Don. I would've done anything..."

   "Heh, don't sell yourself so sort, kiddo," he chuckled, like his soon-to-be death was some sort of sick joke. "You did better than any other person would have done. You saved me from being eaten alive by the dead. That's better than nothing, I tell you what."

   He didn't have much time left and we all knew it, especially himself. I was taking it the hardest, to be honest. I've scouted and looted every sort of pharmacy near us for Don. Nothing was going to cure him by now.

   "Now, I don't want you to be scared, Tess," Don whispered, giving my hand a righty squeeze. "You'll be okay. Don't you worry. Don't worry..."

  I spotted a small strip mall up ahead on the corner, so I ran to it, but made sure to ease up before turning into it. I peeked over the edge of the first building and didn't see anything, but a few biters straggling around in the open parking lot.

   I kept my head lowered and my knife out. I tapped the glass to the first door I seen and a few biters inside hit the glass. So, I kept going and made sure to hit all the doors as I went. All had biters inside, ready to eat me alive. I wasn't going to let that happen today, if I can help it.

   Finally, the place that I needed to be at. I glanced up at the sign on the door and seen the words that I wanted to see: Betty's Bar & Grill. The one place to eat on the whole strip mall. There's something in there that I need, if that makes sense.

   I scrub at the dirty door's window and peek inside, seeing a few biters in there. I punched the door with all my might and their heads shot up, coming right for the windows. Doing a head-count, I counted up to five biters inside.

   Snatching the door open, they began to spill out and went to get me, but smelt the blood on me, so they ignored me and stumbled into the parking lot instead. Good biters!

   I closed the door behind me and headed inside, trying my best to ignore the stench in here. When I spotted what I needed, I went right up to it and grabbed them into my hands. Two walkie-talkies. Bonnie, from the Hilltop, said that the same Betty that owned this place always had walkie-talkies to communicate with her employees. I only seen two, but that's all I needed for me and Paul to exchange talk with.

   Suddenly, something grabbed me and I jumped back after getting distracting over admiring the talkies, I guess. A biter had snuck up on me and grabbed my wrists, trying its best to control me.

   "Ah!" I exclaimed, throwing myself backwards with my new talkies hitting the floor in front of me. I couldn't tell if they were broke or not. I hope not. I went through so much just to get here, for Christ sake. "Son-of-a..."

   The next thing that I know is that the biter had flew itself across the counter unto the floor next to me. It struggled to get to me as I crawled away, hoping to retrieve my talkies and get the hell out of dodge as soon as I can.

   I took out my knife and held it high, making the biter launched into me and killing it alas. Afterwards, I slid to the counter and took a deep breath. Good Lord, I thought to myself. I placed the back of my hand onto my forehead and noticed that I had sweated the blood off by now.

   Lovely, I thought to myself before punching my knife into this new biter's chest, spraying blood onto myself. I used all I could to cover myself once again.

   As I snatched the talkies up to examine them, I noticed that they were actually okay. They were in good shape, considering what just happened to them. I stuffed them into my bag before going behind the counter to see if there was anything else worth taking before I leave again.

   Suddenly, I heard a huge noise occur outside. The windows were all nasty, but I could see dark figures and a huge truck outside as they begin to creep closer to the bar.

   "Shit," I cursed and hit the floor. My ass hurt, but I bit my tongue.

   I heard the door open wide and several footsteps shuffle in. "How about a drink, boys?" a man's voice asked of the men he was with.

   Fuck, I thought to myself and my blood began pumping. This could be some of the Saviors here to rape and leave me for dead. They're that kind of people, unfortunately.

   Their footsteps were getting closer and louder until I heard them right at the bar, itself. "I'll take whatever at this point," one said, obviously eager to drink. "Look behind the counter. Might be some booze still left."

   Somebody else chuckled and added, "Yeah, but it's, like, three years old now. No good."

   "Any booze is good," the other countered before slamming his fist onto the counter. "Look for us, D!"

   Then, that's when a pair of feet appeared at the little entrance way to behind the counter. I looked up slowly and almost so numbly, but my eyes met with a familiar man's dark orbs. His mouth was ajar for a minute, trying to process me just being there.

   "What is it, D?" his friend asked from the front of the counter. "See something?"

   My eyes easily were pleading with him not to say anything, but just to be sure, I brought my right index finger to my lips, hushing him. Definitely those little Savior boys.

   Just when I thought that he was going to say something, he simply shook his head and leaned down with his hand, looking like he was going to choke me or something. He simply took the bottle of booze that was right behind my left shoulder.

   I took a silent breath of relief since he decided not to say anything. D as in... Dwight, was it? He had recently turned bad, being Negan's right-hand man or whatever he is.

   Dwight had shoulder-length blonde hair and a half-burned face, due to Negan, of course. Why he stays by his side? I still don't know. I just know that Negan did it, just to prove a point. He wasn't even that bad looking, to be honest, even with his half-burned face.

   Dwight poured his boys a drink each of whatever that was while Dwight took a big swig of it from the bottle. I just sat there, frozen. I wanted to be invisible right now, but only Dwight could see me and he decided to act like he didn't.

   After some talk, Dwight bent down right next to me to garb something, but our eyes met. Just like I did before, he brought his right index finger up to his lips to keep me quiet. I simply nodded and gulped, mentally accepting this.

   He jumped back up and they continued to talk for, what it seemed like, forever. They talked about women, guns, motorcycles, and everything else under the sun.

   Minutes later, maybe ten or fifteen, before the guys on the other side decided to leave. "You coming?" they asked of Dwight, who was still stranded behind the counter with me.

   He shook his head and said, "I'm going to stay to check the place out for a bit. I'll catch you guys back at home."

   The door opened and one said back, "Alright, then. Have it your way. Just going to sit here and get drunk off your ass, anyway."

   The door, then, slammed a second later. Dwight still hadn't moved until I heard the truck start before skirting out of the parking lot.

   I noticed Dwight straightened himself up before gripping the gun on his side. "Get the hell up," he demanded and I immediately jumped up to my feet, standing right beside him. We faced each other with the heat of the last few minutes still within the air. "What are you doing here?"

   I shrugged innocently and replied, "Just browsing. What 'bout you?"

   He growled under his breath and bent his head back, rolling his eyes in the process. "God... Dammit, Tessa!" he exclaimed, slamming his fist into the counter. "What if one of them had came behind here and not me?! You would've been dead, understand?" For that last part, he jumped right in my face with a hiss.

   I nodded in understanding, but kept my defense up with him. "I know and I'm sorry for—"

   "And what is it you got from here, huh?" He interrupted me before yanking my bag off of my arm. He began to dig through it and, then, pulled out my new walkie-talkies. He looked up at me with his eyebrows raised and questioned: "What are these for, huh?"

   I gulped as I tried not to meet his eyes. Unfortunately, I didn't succeed. Ultimately, I just shrugged and acted innocent. I was hoping that he wasn't going to take them. I needed them.

   He put one of them on his side with a smirk on his face, then our eyes met again. "Thanks. I'll need this."

   Wait... "What?!" I exclaimed with a huff. "But, Dwight... I need them. I—"

   "Look, bitch," he grunt, beginning his rage, "you better be glad that I didn't expose you to my friends. They aren't as nice as I am. God only knows what they would've done to you. I'm taking something from you, so we're now even."

   He shoved my bag back to me, hitting me right in the stomach with it, and that's when I noticed he had only taken one out the two that I had. What the hell? I launched an eyebrow up and questioned, "Why did you just take one?"

   That's when he smiled from ear to ear, as if this was a game. "Because, baby doll, this is the only way that we can talk. Am I right? If I need you, I'll give you a ring." He started to walk away, going around the bar. "Alright, babe?"

And, with a flirtatious wink, he left.

• Things are already hearing up! Am I right? Tomorrow, I am most likely going to update! Yay!! 🙃 •