season 2, episode 12
Better Angels

Day 78

"That little bitch took him!"

There were very few things Sadie could ignore mindlessly to pretend she was safe inside her mind. As the days grew colder and blood drained into the Earth, she forced her eyes to remain peeled. Every piece of evidence laid before her was analyzed. Dissect reality until it becomes uncanny. Her arms would tingle as chills crawled down her spine. Her chest grew heavy with the weight of her emotions swarming inside. Grief. Regret. Helplessness. Rage. And it felt good. It slated her tongue with honey, coating every inch of her mouth with the thick of it. She would speak with such swiftness that the strike of her tongue against the back of her teeth would set it all ablaze. If she could, she would spread it across the world for very few reasons but one in particular stood in the tree line today.

Shane stomped out of the tree line, shouting for Rick, and tearing everyone's attention from the empty shed. They all grouped there at the sound of Rick. He found the shed unlocked A missing Randall. And T-dog mentioned Alyson hadn't made it to her shift. Very few possibilities would result in this.

"What?" Rick called out, stepping towards his bloody friend. Fear laced his voice, eyes widening as his best friend came closer.

Shane appeared like an escaped lunatic from the nearby prison. Blood rushed down his nose bridge, mixing with dirt and sweat. Bruises began to form across his face and visible arms. With one hand, he held the side of his abdomen tightly, gritting his teeth with every step. His words were even more deranged, "Alyson, that girl took Randall and took my gun."

"You okay?" Carl shouted.

Sadie slid in front of the boy, hand resting over her knife. His small hands gripped the excess leather of her jacket, peering around her body. Her eyes jumped around the group, all equally confused as to what was happening.

"I'm okay, just a little busted. She just snuck up on me—that bitch clocked me in the face."

Rick glanced to Isaac, who met his gaze. The older man collected himself before any further accusations could spread. "Hershel, T-Dog, get everyone back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, Isaac, come with me."

Sadie shrugged off Maggie's hands as gently as she could; Maggie didn't deserve Sadie's anger. It was Shane. It was always Shane fucking Walsh. "She wouldn't do that."

"I know, but we gotta let them figure this out," her attempt to be a guiding voice for Sadie didn't help. Her soothing tone came through as a stab in the back as did Lori's ushering hands. They wanted to ignore the truth, for what? Randall was a single-legged idiot lost in the woods while they had several hands ready to fight. Shane was a grown man, who spent years training to be a police officer. Their brown eyes of drowning sympathy wanted her to believe his known lies.

Was it truly that easy to let one life become waste for the masses?

"Just let him go," Carol told, fear drenched her face in a different type of way than it had when Sophia went missing. "That was the plan, wasn't it? Just let him go?"

"The plan was to cut him loose far away from here. Not our front step with a gun!" Rick stated, issuing more fear into the people.

"Alyson wouldn't do something like that, Rick," Sadie interrupted, raising her voice with his name to force him to look at her. Confliction filled his blue eyes as his eyebrows knitted together. "You know he's lying—"

"Your little girlfriend did do this!" Shane said as T-Dog gave him his gun as a replacement and with the other hand he waved at his battered face. The man behind him raised an eyebrow at the man he had spent the last three months with. Without hesitation, T-Dog stood in between him and Sadie, placing his hand on Shane's chest. "She skipped her shift and snuck that rat out."

"Rick, she wouldn't do this," Isaac advocated in a softer tone. His hand curled around his pistol—trigger finger ready to place on into whoever frame Alyson.

The man furrowed his eyebrows before wiping his forehead. Pinching the bridge of his nose as the crowd grew antsy. Sadie could understand his struggle of seeing both sides as a leader. To him one life versus seventeen of them was an easy decision the sake of the group. "We're getting them back then figuring this out before anyone gets hurt anymore. Everyone get back inside! Lock all the doors, and stay up!"

Sadie pulled on Isaac's arm, staring up at with tears welling in her eyes. She didn't want to cry but no one would listen to her. A single life to them meant they would get to live. That single life to Sadie stood as the only reason to fight in this world. "He'll kill her if she isn't already dead. Don't let him get to her."

Instead of reassuring her with his comforting words and gaze, Isaac stared down at Sadie with nothing. "Get back inside." He quickly placed a kiss on her forehead before following the other men, his hand wrapped around his gun.

There was nothing more Sadie could do as Lori led her towards the farmhouse. No one believed her. Her words were futile because no one truly knew Alyson. It was her flaw; never get close to anyone. Now more than ever since they could never trust anyone.

Now no one believed she wouldn't be capable of this.

The girl who let others fear her because it was easier than explaining why her family was the way they were. The girl who kept to who she knew to trust because it was easier than getting her hopes up.

Isaac knew that as he trailed behind the four men. He knew that the churning in his stomach was not sickness or fear but his gut telling him to notice the flaws in Shane's story. Observing the open forest before they neared the close-knit clusters and everlasting shadows. His eyes caught a straight line marked into a tree. He said nothing. As silent as the world for once in his life—but this was not the time for him to be silent.

"I saw 'em head up through the trees that way before I blacked out," Shane recalled, pointing in a general direction that showed near to no sign of people. Another marking pointed diagonally left.

Alyson was no hunter, nor was she good at hide and seek. She was good with a gun and her axe, nothing more or else because that's all she needed to survive. She relied on Isaac in areas she lacked as he did her. And neither of them were ever good in the forest. They didn't have a reason to venture in these territories.

It was endless and everything would start to look the same at one point or another. Unless that was her plan, if Alyson really took Randall for whatever reason, she wouldn't have ventured through the forest, but around it. If she wanted to kill, she would have left him to the dead rather than her own hands.

"I'm not sure how long, but..."

"Couldn't have gotten far," Rick finished. "He's hobbled, exhausted, and she hasn't eaten in hours."

"And armed," Glenn reminded, glancing back at Isaac. Uncertainty laced his voice. Fear encased his dark eyes. If the bar was any indication, Glenn was not like them. Blood of the dead coated his hands and nothing more. He probably couldn't bear the idea of one day killing the cattle if Maggie asked him to.

"So are we," Rick told. He pointed to Daryl, matching his gaze to the ground. "Can you track them?"

"Nah, I don't see nothin'," Daryl admitted, eyes remained on any sign.

"She's wearing combat boots and he's hoping on one leg, their prints would be noticeable, right?" Isaac asked Daryl. The man confirmed with a single nod.

"Hey, look there ain't no use in trackin' them, okay? They went that way!" Shane ushered, walking around the group spastically instead of focusing on signs. "We just need to pair up, we spread out, we just chase them down, that's it."

"Kid weighs a buck twenty-five soaking wet," Daryl points out, turning his head to Shane. "You're tryin' to tell us she got the jump on you?"

"I'd say it right, pretty much, she's near the same size as you."

Isaac thinned his eyes at the man as the blood smeared and dried around his mouth and neck as if he had ravaged a body just like the dead did. He wouldn't be surprised if his teeth contained strands of skin and muscle.

"Alright, alright," Rick interfered. "Knock it off. You, Glenn and Isaac start headin' up the right flank. Me and Shane will take the left. Remember Alyson and Randall's not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other."

Forced to separate, Isaac took the lead. Randall wasn't his focus and the two behind him knew that. Each padding step along the forest floor, he prayed to his fallen faith for guidance, reassurance, and for Alyson to be alive. It blinded him. Hope and guilt. He hadn't noted any human made signs. Suffering under the blinded guidance of emotions would result in death. Her death and many more to follow.

"Slow down and quit draggin' your feet. I can't track them if you're spreading it all around," Daryl told, taking the lead with his crossbow pointed ahead.

"Why would she even let him go? She voted to kill him," Glenn inquired out loud, trying to figure it out himself. "She wouldn't have killed him, would she?"

"No," Isaac said without hesitation. "Alyson's never killed anyone, and she sure as hell wouldn't have ruined our chance of stayin' here to stay now."

"So why'd she do it?" Glenn asked, pausing his steps.

"Don't think she did," Daryl stated.

Someone with a brain. Isaac looked at him, expecting to see him already looking at them. Instead, he found the man holding Alyson axe and staring at a diagonal line heading to the right.

At least he wasn't the only one who didn't believe Shane's bullshit.

Isaac wondered how far Shane would go to keep his place by Rick's side. If he would blame anyone for putting their group in danger, he would blame Sadie. She attacked him that night Isaac was gone. Like a madman, she smiled with his blood on her hand. He heard Andrea and Shane talk about it as if Sadie was a deranged criminal, but everyone else saw her as the stressed teenager without guidance that she was.

Then it would make sense to pick Alyson. Force Sadie to act out to defend her. Force Isaac to follow suit. It would remove three people that would speak against Shane if given the chance.

They continued through the woods the sunlight dwindled and fog rolled in. It made it harder for Daryl to track, but Alyson kept her marking relatively high up. Until there was no more left to find.

Dried leaves and grass rustled beneath their shoes. It was inevitable. A bird flew from its perch and away from them. They were going off of possibility than any signals. A gust of wind glided against their bare skin. Chills crawled down their spines.

With every step, Isaac's mind began to race into territories he would have rather not entered. But he had. And every thought came with an accompaniment of Alyson's body. Each time different. A bullet to the brain. A bite mark on her shoulder. Head bashed in. Body mangled. Bruised and battered like she had been her whole life.

Daryl took long strides, no longer minding the fallen branches and twigs, but kept his head down for tracks. Glenn kept his head and eyes up for any more markings.

"This is pointless. Give me a lighter," Daryl told. Glenn handed him the flashlight. All three stopped in their tracks to let Daryl examine the area.

He followed the light from their feet to in front of them before groaning and turning back to where they came from. It was better to restart than struggle for a sign.

Isaac needed that sign. Any sign truly. He now knew how Alyson felt when he left for Hershel and Sadie disappeared. The unknown feeling chewed inside of him, guilt of not watching over her closer suffocated him. He was beginning to lose sight of really mattered. He was beginning to realize he had failed.

He believed giving them space in order to think about his suggestion would help. Instead, Alyson ran off for God knows what with Randall. Or from him. Either way, she was lost in the woods with a murderer and only a gun to protect herself.

"Everyone here knows Alyson wouldn't do this just willy-nilly. She had to have had a reason," Hershel reassured Sadie as he led her to sit down on the nice couch after he and Maggie placed a towel over it. Securing the quality of the coach was a small request—small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the world but who was Sadie to say otherwise.

"Do we really?" Andrea asked, peering out of the recently blocked windows. "She blew up on me the other day, keeps to herself, always carrying around her weapons."

"Like you don't?" Maggie asked, side-eyeing the older woman before sitting down with Sadie. The girl gnawed at her already shortened nails. "She's just a kid, she wouldn't kill anyone."

Maggie put her arm around Sadie, pulling her in like a mother or a sister would. She let the girl lean her head on Maggie's chest and stare. She's just a kid, she wouldn't kill anyone.

It was true for Alyson at least. But Sadie? Blood stained her skin and her soul. Her mind haunted her of images of what she did. She may not regret it, doesn't mean she didn't feel guilty for killing a person. She only wanted Alyson's pain to end.

"They'll figure all of this out," Maggie whispered to her as she rain her fingers through Sadie's hair.

Sadie felt like a child again. Sitting on the floor of the living room as her mom brushed her hair. They would watch anything that came on the TV. It was a routine, after both of them had finished their homework and actual work, after they ate their dinner and showered. They would sit in front of the TV and Jessica would brush Sadie's hair and put oils in it.

The last time they did it, they had a foster child. A girl with untamed curls due to her placements in foster care. Sadie was okay with breaking their routine that night so Jessica could help the girl.

Then Sadie killed a man and ran away.

She wondered if the girl's curls were cured. If they contained moisture and ringlets hung around her small face like a willow tree. Or if her curls were dried and matted, filled with decaying matter as her child body was long gone.

A fingernail scrapped the scalp. An accident. An awakening. Everyone would die. Her mother and the foster girl have become roaming flesh bags, stuck in Sadie's childhood home. Bumping into walls, painting the green flora wallpaper crimson. Scratching at the window sill at any sudden peep beyond the neighborhood.

Her breath hitched, lodged somewhere in her throat. Bubbling up, blocking her throat. Andrea's glare stuck onto her sweaty skin, gnawing at her. She wanted Sadie dead.

Breaking from Maggie, Sadie rose to her feet, clutching her body. "May I take a shower?"

"Yeah, honey." Her eyes sopped with pity—sympathy really, but it all morphed into a bitter feeling as Sadie faced it. It was in everyone's face, eyes, the way they spoke. "Call if you need anything."

Maggie was too kind to be able to solve Sadie's issues. She would crumble at the reality of how far the girl she saw as just a kid had fallen. Somewhere in the Bible Sadie could be found. A sinful soul. An angel sent to condemn the sinner. All would conclude in blood spilled. It always would.

Bare in the tight confines of the porcelain shower, pipping hot droplets rained on Sadie. Beating at her sun kissed skin. Visible steam cleared her airway and vision. Her life stood across from her in the empty space of her mind.

It did not need to speak. The deaden gaze boring into her soul was an awful reminder of what she was becoming. Just like him. Shane Walsh couldn't have been this way his entire life. He was cared for like any other human being for who he was. Rick held onto the image of who Shane used to be. He was good before the rot struck. How quickly did it consume him? Could he have saved himself from himself? Could Sadie do the same? Or had it been too late for her?

Inflating her chest cavity, air was stripped from her once again. Her tears mixed with the well water, but the salt stood out on her gasping tongue. How sharp her nails became from her teeth tearing at them. An uneven mess that was now being used as weapons against herself to claw at her chest. Bones prodding through, she wondered how deep she needed to cut before they would be exposed. Did Lucifer lose himself the moment he noticed the rot, or when God banished him once he asked for his helping hand?

Her muscles tightened under the pounding water. Though she could no longer hear it. The blood thundering in her ear canal. It shouted at her in a language she couldn't fathom.

"Stop it." Gripping at her roots, Sadie tugged the thick strands. Her fingers interwoven with each strand as the knuckles knocked at her skull. It wasn't a greeting but a warning. Threats thrown in hopes it would die off. "Stop it."

She curled into herself. Her knees kissed her forehead as Isaac had always—a reminder of her goodness that lingered. She would never be loved if she was not somewhat good. Somewhere inside the rot as the spidery limps encased who she was, it laid there. She still remained. Even in blood.

"Just back to square one," Glenn pointed out as they returned to the spot they separated from Rick and Shane. His eyes scattered across the darkness. Fog layered the ground. Tracks were useless.

"Yeah, if you don't do a thing, might as well do it right," Daryl rambled. Isaac didn't understand nor did he planned on wasting his efforts trying to.

His eyes searched the fog, the darkness, and all that was in between for Alyson. He remembered the first time they spoke, not a simple pass-by or formalities but a conversation. Sadie begged him to give Alyson a ride home since they lived near each other. In his attempt to spare himself from the awkward silence, they spoke about soccer. Nothing grand or miniscule as it was something they both excelled in but it wasn't like either would take it somewhere far. There was something that held them both back but neither mentioned it.

Then after every practice, he would take her home. Not to her driveway, but down the street as she requested. He never questioned it as everyone in the neighborhood heard the bellows of Alaric Quinn. He never knew how far Alaric took his anger, but never dared to ask.

He was a coward then. He wouldn't be one now.

"Three sets of tracks right here," Daryl pointed out. "Shane must've followed them a lot longer than he said." His voice trailed off as he rose the light onto a tree. "There's blood on this tree."

Glenn and Isaac looked around. Neither saw anything but Daryl did. There was no way to determine who's blood it could be, or how far they were from it now.

"There's more tracks. Its just two now. It's like their walking in tandem."

Some animal made a noise in the distance. It caught Glenn's attention, causing him to bump into Daryl. "Sorry."

"There's a little dust up, right here."

"What do you mean?" Glenn asked to distract his fears of the night.

"Means something went down." Isaac tilted his head, fear rushing over him. Daryl must've noticed. "Too big to be her tracks."

That scared him even more. Against anything, if held down tight enough, Alyson would be the victim. To squirm as her aggressor overpowered her.

"It's gettin' weird," Glenn let out.

"It's been weird," Isaac countered.

"Hello, trouble," Daryl said, spotting cloth that they used to cover Randall's eyes.

Glenn picked it up as Daryl shined the light onto it. The three took a hard look at it before something snapped behind them.

They swiftly maneuvered into the shadows of a tree. Glenn pressed his back against the bark while Isaac and Daryl peered over either side. Daryl let out a soft whistle before tossing Glenn his flashlight back to put both hands on his crossbow.

It was a figure, walking through the woods with ease. It appeared to be Randall's height but it couldn't have been him with how easy it was walking.

The three let it get closer. The groans and growls became louder as the realization hit. Glenn peaked out at the wrong time, shining the light into Randall's reanimated corpse.

The walker managed to get the jump on Glenn due to his fear, tripping him. Daryl used the distraction to shoot it in the head but missed. Randall's dead body lunged at Daryl, wanting to devour him. Isaac yanked the walker by his collar, only to trip on a root. The walker fell on top of him, facing upward.

He inhaled deeply, focusing on his body and what he could move. He felt his foot near the stump of a tree and used it to push off. Twisting his body across, he shoved the walker off. The walker slammed to the ground first. Isaac got on his knees and drove Alyson's axe into its skull.

Standing up, Isaac regained his breath. Blood painted across his cheeks.

"Nice," Daryl complimented with a pat to the abdomen.

He pulled out the axe, getting a good look at Randall's decaying face. Blood didn't line his mouth which meant he hadn't eaten. Alyson could've gotten away. Or was the reason he turned.

Daryl inspected the body for a sign of anything. Isaac wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for but what he found was more concerning. "God, his neck's broke."

Daryl yanked the body to see his backside. Lifting up the shift to find any sign of a bite. "He's got no bite."

"How?" Isaac asked. Neither men understood it either. How did Randall turn without being bit?

"Yeah, none you can see," Glenn told, not believing it.

"No, I'm tellin' you. He died from this," Daryl told, pointing at the broken spine.

"How's that possible?" Glenn asked.

Isaac slide his hand down his face. He stood up and observed the area as if he hadn't done so before. "We need to find Alyson."

"We should get back to Rick and Shane," Glenn suggested.

"And let Shane lie more?" Isaac asked rhetorically. No one besides Sadie, Alyson, and Dale had outright spoke out against Shane. The others followed him blindly or didn't care enough to do something. "Alyson can't open a can of beans without someone bending the metal for her, how the hell could she have snapped his neck? And you said it yourself, the tracks were too big to be hers. Shane was lying and she's still out there. Alive...or dead."

Sadie peered out the window despite T-Dog's complaints. Wooden planks were put up for the winter in case of anything. It allowed the farmhouse to deceive wanders. No one would step into a building that appeared to be filled with the dead.

"You should get ready for bed," Maggie told, coming to T-Dog's aid. Her hands gentle grasped Sadie damp shoulders. 

The girl didn't budge. She gazed out across the rolling lands to the tree line. She awaited for the shadows to spit out an answer. To give her something to hang on to rather than her what-ifs and terrorizing thoughts.

"Sadie, this isn't good for you. Lori, can you help me?"

"Sweetheart, I know you're worried but the men will find her. She'll be okay."

Her words meant nothing to Sadie. They were sweet nothings that didn't ease any fears. They only added to it. No one truly knew if anyone was okay. For all they knew, Hershel could have a heart attack and die, or Lori could miscarry and suffer from an infection because they didn't have the tool to get the dead fetus out of her. No one truly knew if they would ever be okay. They all were just waiting to die, hoping it would be a kind death.

"Sadie!" Lori called out, yanking the girl with accidentally force.

"There was something out there," Sadie said, catching something in the split second her eyes blinked and she was torn away.

Without hesitation, she ran outside. She ignored the adults shouting for her. A few cladded feet pounded behind her but she didn't pay them much of her time.

Instead, she focused on the figure that limped out of the shadows. One foot dragging behind the other. A short stature, but brown hair fell around them.

Her heart ached. "No."

Her feet kept forward. The close she got to the figure, the more details she could make out. Milky white skin that illuminated the blood that fell around it. Torn clothes with leaves and twigs hanging off of it. Her brown hair swayed with each step.

"Shit," T-Dog let out. A cock of a gun followed.

"Wait!" Maggie stopped T-Dog behind Sadie's back.

"Alyson?" Sadie called out, feeling a sob clogging up her throat. Tears already fell from her eyes. How idiotic of her to not think she would be dead? She thought of it, the different ways Alyson's body would be mangled in the woods. She never wished it to be real.

"Sadie?" her body called out before giving out.

Sadie pushed passed her shock, sprinting the rest of the way to pull Alyson onto her lap. She managed to become paler than the moonlight. But she was alive. Sadie placed her hand over Alyson's heart to ensure it. Blood seeped from the side of her head. Soaking her hair and Sadie's palms.

"Wha-what happened to you? Alyson, you're gonna be okay," she muttered to the girl, fluttering her eyes as she fought fatigue. "It's Alyson! She's alive!"

T-Dog raced with Andrea and Maggie behind him. Their feet pounded the earth as blood pounded Sadie's ears. She was alive. In the flesh, her bones and body intact.

Sadie focused onto her girl, brushing her hair out of her face. Her eyelids grew heavier. Sadie drank the sight of her as the haunting thought sung in the back of her mind: she could still die. "You're okay. Hershel's gonna fix you up."

"—did this. He killed him," Alyson mumbled, blood glazing her teeth.

"What?" Sadie leaned closer.

"Shane did this. He killed Randall."

There it was again. The spark of rage re-alit inside of the girl. 

sorry for the late update and sorry for the whole back and forth pov within this chapter. I've had this written for a while but wasn't sure about it. but i also didnt feel like rewritting so oh well.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, next chapter is the last one for act 1. season 3 here we come.

Please share your thoughts, feelings, ideas, theories, criticism, or anything. It helps me become a better writer and i enjoy your comments.

until next time <3