CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE,
redneck glory

THE RUTHLESS WINTER left invisible bruises on her skin and dark thoughts that scared in Samantha's head. She's mused over the times she's prayed to a God she didn't even worship to begin with, but all them had been left unanswered and left an internal sickness.

Her heart was always trembling from anger - so much anger, a fire that slowly burning her from the insides and cooking her up.

It was like her very own stalker, an invisible force she couldn't exercise from her body. It manifested into her dreams, creating nightmares that took the forms of monsters,

She felt like she was in a hall of mirrors, and every time she turned she only saw herself. Maybe it was a fucked up way of being metaphoric, but what it was - it woke her up every night, the screams that crawled from her throat so loud that it made even the stars shakes

Her eyes shot open, a scream ripping through her like a shard of glass and shattering the once quiet twilight. Terror possessed her body like a demon, her pulse quickening and her eyes so wide she thought they would burst from their sockets.

Nathan sprung into action, his arms wrapping around her torso and pulling her close, desperately trying to calm her down before something else heard her too.
"Its okay, it's okay,"

It had become a part of their nightly routine, etched into their subconsciouses.

"It was just a nightmare,"

Every night was a nightmare. It plagued her mind and put the two of them at risk.

"You're awake, Sammy."

Despite his words she felt like she wasn't awake. In fact, Samantha feels like she's been in an inescapable nightmare for the past couple of months, and no matter how hard she tried to open her eyes, it was the same world but a different day.

Fortunately for the both of then, she had finally calmed down - yet Nathan didn't let go. He still tried to whisper reassuring things into her ear, but none successfully combatted her anxieties and demons.

Her best friend stood up and dug through their shared supply bag. There, he took out a bottle and handed it to her. "What's haunting you tonight?" He asked casually, the campfire flickering across his pale features. Samantha could make out the bags under his eyes, the ones she has caused.

He stayed up most nights because he knew she was going to wake up. He needed to keep his best friend at bay in order to not attract the dead.

Samantha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She tried to rack her brain, but like every dream, it fell through her fingers like dust.

It felt so real...

Suddenly there was a disturbance in the darkness of the trees. They both turned and was able to make out a walker. Feeling guilty, Samantha pulled out her dagger only for her hand to be pushed back down.

"I got it."

She watched as he stepped towards the walker. It reached for him, but before it could touch him, Nathan plunged his machete into its skull.

For a second, a cold feeling washed over Samantha as she silently observed the way the walker released a final moan to the world before slumping to the ground.

It was a cold reminder that either way, she was going to end up like that.

━━━━━

Lack of sleep was a common thing that Samantha was used to. Her insomnia had gotten worse over the hard winter they had endured, but she could do nothing but hope for the best.

Hope. Something she kept alive in order to keep her sanity composed.

With tired eyes and a sleepless mind, she glanced down at the ancient picture in her hands. The girl in the picture smiled - but it felt so alien. Samantha knew this girl, but she was no longer intertwined with her. She was just a ghost of her former self.

The picture of Samantha's graduation party that her older brother had given to her still evoked her with strength. It reminded the twenty year old why she still got up in the morning and searched all over Georgia. When she looked at Rick and Shane as they held her like two proud fathers, she felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and sorrow.

I'll find you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Samantha lifted her head up and took in Nathan's appearance. He has changed over the last few months, both physically and mentally. He had long lost the war with his facial hair and now sported a scruffy beard, but what was more noticeable was the long, deep scar of a scratch that went down his left eye. According to him, a walker had done that to him. Luckily, it wasn't fatal like a bite would've been.

"At least you sent me a letter." Samantha pointed out.

Nathan nodded, poking around at the dying fire. "We're running low on supplies so we should get moving soon."

Samantha didn't answer, but when she glanced at him she could see that he was still staring at her.

Sometimes wondered if he stared her in resentment, pity, or perhaps something more. Whatever it was, the way he looked at his best friend before they were separated from their group is so much different from how he looks at her now.

Samantha blamed herself. She was the one that had enforced the things that have turned into her regrets. What happened all those months ago should never repeat itself.

She carefully folded up the photo and slid it into her jacket, using her hand to rub her head. "Let me see the map."

Nathan sighed. "Sam-"

"There's still places we haven't searched." She interrupted firmly.

Nathan gazed at her for a moment, annoyance twisting up his features. Finally, he reluctantly obliged. Samantha snatched it from his grasp and scanned it up and down. There wasn't that many red stars, which represented the places that they have searched, but that was a good thing. That means hope was still very much alive.

Her eyes paused.

"Wiltshire Estates," Samantha murmured. "We haven't checked that out. It's big enough for a group."

"How do you know it's not overrun?"

Her brows furrowed. "We'll scope it out."

"What if we run into the wrong people?"

Blood become heated in her body. "We'll scope it out-"

"We don't know what's waiting for us there," Nathan argued. "Its a pretty long trip from here and we're running low on supplies. Think logically about this, Sam."

The temper in her became flamed as she stood up from her seat, her face contorting into a scowl. "You promised me," Samantha reminded through gritted teeth. "This is my brother we're talking about - our group."

"We don't know if he, or they are alive." He retorted.

"Shane is alive, they are alive!" Samantha threw the map at him and stormed towards their things, her anger feeling like lava on her skin.

"So, if you wanna sit on your ass and smoke cigarettes all day, be my fucking guest," She continued. "But i'm finding our group."

Nathan had lost hope within himself months ago. He wanted to keep moving, hopefully to find somewhere safe to settle down, but she didn't. Samantha wanted to find her family, she wanted to find Shane.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she looked over. Nathan stood there, a hint of pity shadowing his eyes - and she hated it. "What if we don't find them?"

Samantha bit her lip, trying to keep that possibility far away from conquering her hope. "Then we'll keep searching."

Once everything was packed, the two best friends continued on the road. They were always on the road, hiding from strangers and trying to avoid the dead. It had become a part of their nature; always walking, always avoiding, always fighting.

The road was empty, lacking any people or the living dead. The quiet was too loud for her.

"Remember when I convinced Mr.Barnes you were an amateur arsonist?" At this she looked at Nathan, who now had a soft smile.

Mr.Barnes had been her fifty something year old science teacher in freshmen year. He was known for his crazy hair and his mad scientist theories. Why the school kept him was beyond her.

The two best friends talked about the past a lot, something to keep their minds preoccupied that distracted their minds even for a second. They had to learn to laugh in the midst of the Hell they live in.

"Whatever you heard, it was completely blown out of proportion, no charges were ever filed, and there hasn't been any incidents in the past couple months besides some damaged caused by the fires. Just dont let Sam touch any lighters." Nathan mocked his own words.

Samantha let out a groan. "Jesus christ, Shane was so pissed off. We sat in a conference with Mr.Barnes and the principal for hours. He was so stuck on the idea that I was going to burn the school down."

"Which you should've," Nathan stated, grinning like a sinner in church. "I got detention for a week which was totally worth it, but Shane hated me even more after."

It was funny how Shane and Nathan had gone to not liking each other, to being accomplices in murder. It was pretty ironic. Sometimes Samantha questioned her opinion on the Otis incident, but when it came down to it, if Otis having to die meant her brother and Carl surviving - then so be it.

It made her feel guilty for even thinking about another life like that.

"Maybe once he knows you protected me during the winter, that'll changed."

Nathan looked at her again, his voice silent but his eyes loud. They told a whole story but she refused to read it. She already knew the plot.

Then his eyes shifted to behind her.

"Look." He pointed.

With furrowed brows, she followed his finger and was surprised to see a gas station just down the road. Now, that's very convenient.

Samantha kept watch as Nathan tried, and failed to break down the door. She mentioned that they could break the glass, but he added that it would attract God knows what. "Guess it was too perfect to be true." She shrugged.

Then his eyes went bright, as if a light bulb literally went off in his head.

Before she could say anything he quickly disappeared behind the building. Samantha frowned, tilting her head as she looked over the corner.

"Um, Marco?" She called out nervously.

Samantha nearly jumped out of her skin when the gas station door suddenly swung open, Nathan standing there with the hugest smile and with keys twirling around his fingers. "Polo,"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, adjusting the grip on her pistol.

"The place hasn't been raided, Sammy!" She haven't seen him this excited in so long. "God is good, God is good!"

"If God was so good, I would've had my hot shower by now." She muttered bitterly, entering the station. Or maybe some weed.

Everything inside nearly hasn't been touch. It was as if it was immune to the outside world. Samantha would've fully relished in the moment if it weren't for the discovery of the decaying body slumped against one of the shelves. She noticed the smell before she noticed the corpse, but Nathan merely shrugged it off.

"That's where I found the keys," He informed, glancing away. "He must've locked himself in here."

Her brows furrowed at the sight of the gun in his hand, and that same cold feeling washed over her.

"It was a cold reminder that either way, she was going to end up like that."

"Jesus, this is so disrespectful," She said, coming back to reality. "Find a blanket or something so we can roll him up and bury him."

Nathan wordlessly agreed, and he disappeared at the back of the gas station. Samantha didn't want to look at the body anymore, so she turned and begin to search the station.

There was everything they needed in there; Drinks, food, hygienics. If they wanted, they could even find shelter in there for a bit.

Samantha was getting ready to find Nathan when something caught her eye, and she stopped in her tracks.

Samantha eyed the amber liquid intently, her mind going blank as she did. She felt a sudden hunger inside of her, a strong urge to grab the tonic. There was other ways she could clear her brain, much more healthier ways to let the bad stuff pass by like a song on a radio. Her younger, much more wild, teenage self was into destruction. She loved to call the poison of alcohol her cure as she destroyed her liver, but not Samantha, not her at all.

But then came that familiar lust that she hasn't felt in years. As much as Samantha didn't want to dare take a sip and become an alcoholic again, maybe this could help her forget, just for a little bit.

She wanted to feel something other than this sorrow and anxiety, other than the small stalker that prowled around in her head. She wanted to feel something good.

So she took the alcohol in her hand, unscrewing the cap and drank. That familiar sour and vile taste slipped into her mouth, and filled Samantha with a burning sensation.

The alcohol was her forbidden fruit, and Samantha was Eve, but this was no garden of Eden.

"So, I went to the closet and found - what the hell,"

She felt the intoxicating cure be snatched from her hands, the hard eyes of Nathan now her view.

"Christ, it was just a sip."

Just that one sip made her crave more.

"You were downing that thing as if it was a race," He remarked. "I know what it does to you. Alcohol is not the answer right now, Samantha."

Alcohol may not be the answer right now, but it helps to forget the shit show they're in.

"Who are you, my father? Shane?" Samantha snapped. "You can't just-"

"You're being pathetic," He hissed, holding the bottle in the air. "You need to stay clear!"

Her temper became flamed again, word vomiting rising. "I'm being pathetic?" Samantha repeated with a low laugh.

She brought her face close to his till they were only mere inches apart, their breaths mingling and mixing together.

"At least I don't see dead people."

Before Samantha registered what she said, the damage was already done.

Nathan backed away from her, the expression on his face screaming that m she had wounded him. He couldn't believe that Samantha had been the one that stabbed him, his best friend, the person he trusted the most.

She saw his nails embedding into the palms of his hand, and she knew right then he was trying so hard to restrain an outburst.

He shoved the whiskey into her chest, said something along the lines of, "I'm gong for a smoke." and stormed outside.

Samantha looked at the bottle and back at the door he just walked out of. Self loathing tears started to form. With all the terrors they had to endure during the winter and the constant nightmares, Samantha almost never slept. She was always thinking, too much thinking.

When you think too much, especially when you're placed into cruel circumstances, your thoughts tend to turn dark.

Samantha was so scared that that there was anger eating up her heart, she was so scared that her head was starting to rot from all these thoughts.

Why couldn't he just stand up to me? Why couldn't he just put me in my place? Samantha was treating him like garbage, and he did not deserve that.

Samantha needed to apologize to him - she needed him to know that she's sorry. He's done so much for her.

"Whatcha doing out here all by yourself?"

Her blood went icy and eyes darted to the windows. There was strangers surrounding Nathan like sharks. From what she could see, there was only three people. Two men and a woman with a red cap.

"You got a group, boy?"

"I'm all alone." His voice was surprisingly calm, but his back was completely tensed up.

"Guys, we should just grab what we need and head out-"

"This is bullshit, Martinez, and you know it," The woman snapped, her dark eyes squinted at him before pulling her attention back to Nate. "You're too pretty to be a loner, so just cut the crap."

"I appreciate the compliment but I'm just passing through." Nathan replied dryly.

Samantha saw his hand move slowly to his holster, but immediately the woman noticed and pointed her own weapon at him.

"Keri, put the weapon down." The other man said gently.

He was older, his dreadlocks having signs of graying. Samantha noted that the woman, Keri, and him shared similarities in their features.

The sight of the barrel aimed at Nate's made her heart thump against her chest. Samantha couldn't lose Nate, that was her best friend.

"I'm not going to..."

As if she felt Samantha's gaze, her eyes darted up and locked onto hers. A gasp left her lips and the whiskey slipped from her hands and crashed to the ground, glass shattering everywhere. Samantha ducked behind one of the shelves, almost puking her heart out.

"There's someone in there!"

"Martinez, watch him!"

Her eyes widened. She couldn't just stand here - Samantha had to go, but then there was Nathan.
He was trying so hard to protect her like he had done all winter, but who was there to protect him?

Samantha had to do something, and she had to do it now.

Quickly, she crept to the back door. Samantha had to get to Nathan, she had to get to my best friend-

But as soon as she opened the back door, she was met with those cold, dark eyes.

Out of instinct, she brought her first and slammed it into her face and the woman cried out, her gun going off as she fell to the concrete ground.

Samantha shook off the pain in her knuckles as she ran out of the building with wild thoughts, searching for her best friend.

"Sam! Run!"

She saw Nate. He was struggling against the two men, but he gave her a nod, saying I got this. She was glued to her spot, conflicted over his demand.

"Go!" He screamed.

And then she did.

Samantha broke off into the trees, not knowing where she was going, just knowing that she had to get away. Her mind kept thinking about Nathan, hoping and even praying that he would make it out.

Bullets whizzed over her head. Samantha looked back and saw that the woman was not that far behind her, blood dripping down from her nose and her face darkened. "Stay right where you are, you stupid bitch!"

Samantha internally scoffed, dodging branches and trees. Like hell I will.

She rushed behind a tree, trying to gain her breath as she thought of her next move. Samantha needed to get back to Nathan, she couldn't leave him there, it was a death sentence. Maybe if she circled back around-

A hand roughly grab her hair and pulled her back. Samantha let out a scream, but before she could defend herself, Keri smashed her face against the tree.

Warmth trickle down to her lips, the taste of metallic on her tongue. Samantha shakily brought her fingers to her face. The sight of her own blood awoke something within her. It was deep and primal, something etched into human DNA for the survival of the fittest. She needed to survive. She needed to survive.

But instead of taking flight, Samantha was going to fight and be the victor.

She didn't have time to deal with the pain, instead she launched her elbow into Keri's face with all the strength Samantha could muster from her dizzy state, a loud yelp emitting from the other woman who staggered back.

Not hesitating for another moment, Samantha freed herself from her grip and charged towards her, bringing her knee to Keri's stomach. She completely lost balance and fell to the grass, her face contorted into agony. Samantha ignored the pounding of her head, the dizziness of her vision, the blood that streamed down her face and filled her mouth with crimson.

"Who's the stupid bitch now?" Samantha growled.

She looked up at her, hatred plastered against her face, red coating her dark skin. "You..." Keri took a deep breath. "You broke my nose!"

Samantha tilted her head with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, I'm real good at that."

She was so, so angry. How dare she threaten her best friend, how dare she touch her-

There was a sudden shift in her head, a whisper, the silent ushers of something within, something that she never even knew existed.

But it has existed for quite a few months now - it was now ignited like a flame, seething in her chest and roaring fire inside her like a great big dragon.

Samantha rose her gun, and watched as the fear made the color completely drain from Keri's face. Her stomach twisted.

Right now, she was the catalyst of death.

"Uh, uh, uh," A cold barrel pressed to the back of her head, sending shivers down her spine. "now, ain't this just a nasty little cat fight."

Annoyance flooded Keri's face. "Where the...hell have you been!?" She demanded, wiping blood from her chin and breathing deeply.

"Was takin' a piss, seems ya been goin' all black mamba without me." The voice snickered.

"Fuck you." Keri spat.

Samantha knew that southern drawl, but it couldn't be possible.

"Drop the gun and turn 'round, nice and easy missy,"

Repressing a curse, she let the weight drop from her hands and slowly turned to face the voice.

The sight of his rough features and that growing, infamous smirk of his made her stomach drop to her ass, Samantha's brain going on complete pause.

"Oh my, god." She uttered.

There he was, standing in all his redneck glory, was Merle fucking Dixon.

His smirk only grew even larger once he saw that it was her, a faint sparkle in the blue of his eyes.

"Ohhhh, holy shit, ain't it deputy princess!" Merle rejoiced. "how's 'bout some sugar for yer ol pal Merle."

Her eyes flickered to his free hand, which was a prosthetic hand with a very sharp blade like end.

Samantha opened her mouth to speak, but she was unable to string together sentences, too busy wondering how in the hell did her odds come to this.

This just proved that God had humor.

But then relief flooded over Samantha that Merle was alive, he was here, and he could help her.

But fate had other plans.

Something hard hit the back of her head and she fell to the ground. There was pain for a millisecond, then her world went black.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟnote

WE'RE FINALLY ON SEASON 3 YES

I HAVE SO MUCH PLANNED OUT FOR THIS SEASON

words ; 3854
edited ; ✔️