'i see it now; how we tend to hold pain so close, as if it is all we're made of.' unknown.

season 3, episode 1
seeds

Day 300

The harmonizing ringtones provided sound to the endless highway of I-85. In the endless night, a single vibration sounded the drive. Not Isaac's phone for he had turned it off. Not Alyson's iPhone as it had died, and no one carried her charger. Sadie's phone buzzed against the dusted floor of Elliot's van. The screen lighting up the darkness of the back half with the name,

Mom.

Sadie kept her eyes trained behind them through the clear window. Her face illuminated in rapid flashes of headlights; crusted tear lines caressed each cheek. Cars would congest the roads before dissipating within the exits. Headlights lit the highway as if the sun had never set—not a single star sparkled in the midnight blue sky. The moon hadn't even dared to reflect the sun.

Her fingers followed the notes of her phone's vibration, crafting a song to the beat. Dancing along her jeans. Every finger had a different sound when it impacted the fabric. Her pointer and pinky sounded normal, a brush between flesh and jeans. The remaining of her fingers grazed the hardened blood. Who's? Sadie couldn't tell. It could have been hers; it could have been Alaric.

The blood soaked into the jeans and thickened a hard, smooth top as the jeans could no longer absorb anything more.

Sadie no longer felt herself blinking. The gentle, involuntary action had no effect on her sense. Her vision would disappear for a split second, reminding herself of the action to moisturize her eyeballs. But the medicine Isaac forced down her throat had numbed the aching pain that overtook the small action of blinking.

It reminded her of being sick. Her mother insisted on following the instructions written by a group of doctors years ago, interrupting Sadie's sleep to drink the horrid healing potion. Then, her mom would give her a cup of chocolate milk that the girl would chug in a single sitting. Tired eyes would look into sickly eyes. Sliding into the full-size bed, Jessica would rack her fingers through Sadie's hair and the world would fade.

Pressing the cold phone against her ear, Sadie answered the phone.

"Sadie? Baby?"

"Baby? What happened? Where are you?"

Her eyes focused on the flashing red and blue lights that halted in front of her. Purple skin under red light; blue under blue. Screeching tires and thick boots pounded against the concrete. EMTs rushed to the bodies in the car that crashed into the side railings.

"Sadie, I don't know what happened. Alden told the police it was self-defense. They took Alaric to the hospital. They need you to come home or else."

"I know you would never do something like this unless you had to. You just need to come home and tell the police what happened. Baby girl?"

"I love you, mom."

"Sadie, come ho—"

The phone beeped and vibrated against the girl's ear. Dead. Pulling the useless electronic from her head, Sadie noted the dried blood that crusted around her fingers. The blood was stuck in between her flesh and nail. Her DNA captured pieces of Alaric.

Every piece of her damaged body was proof of what he did, of what he had done for the last six years.

Though, it no longer mattered. Nearly 200 miles away, a half day on the road.

This was her life now, to be on the run until the end of time. She burdened her friends with her actions, criminalizing them. Blood splattered upon her being like paint during art class. Sadie had always managed to get dirty in order to make something her own. It was evidence of her creation.

Her weapon of choice, a paint brush. Crimson red was slashed across the canvas, layered on top of each other. Curdling between other colors. Forging a life she would never have. Fantasize, is what her teacher instructed them, "Fantasize a scene that could never happen."

Surging from a shade of brown, bare crooked branches of winter trees obstructed the background. She had blurred nature with her palms, slicing upward. Fingers masked in brown and white, she deliberately ignored the scarlet.

Grays consumed her pallet, clashing with the dried blood. The young wolf pleaded with the eyes she created with two colors. Consumed in snow, its dark gray fur passed down by its mother's. Laying in the snow, eyes dulled with one coat of black paint. Its blood diluted by frozen water as it spread across the canvas, the cause for destruction towered above the animals. Its shadow veiled the pup and carrion it was birthed from.

Matted wool, sprayed with crimson red, teeth dripping with blood from its fresh kill. The sheep's back side faced the viewer. Claw marks dug into its right side, but a futile injury in the end. No one would ever believe a sheep overtook the wolf. The sheep was not made to demolish for the sake of food, it was made to consume vegetation. It's being was consumed by a look of innocence.

But the sheep did not kill the wolf for survival. It did it because it could.

At the edge of the tree line, Sadie crouched in the shadows. Her left foot slid forward on her command to balance herself, careful not to make a noise. Her eyes flickered from the beast ahead to the man above her. Back against the tree, cream colored button-up all covered in dirt and grime, Rick gave her a nod.

A beat passed and Sadie launched her knife into the neck of the fawn. Its body fell onto the winter grass with a crunch.

All things must feast.

If it lived longer, it would have understood Sadie's hunger. It would have understood why Sadie had to do it.

It had been six months since they found another animal of that size. Winter concealed, the dead ate what was left. Spring would only bring weak legged fawns to be put before the dead and the living. The group of twelve was left to scavenge and scrap from abandoned houses and buildings they came across. It was never enough. The ache of hunger became a familiar feeling, right next to the pains in their feet and stiff necks from sleeping wherever they could. Their stomachs had somehow adjusted to their new lifestyle by keeping the rumbles low, unheard by walkers.

Silence became the new norm. Whistles and waves were used to communicate in areas they couldn't stay overnight. Once they ensured the safety of an area, words could break the atmosphere and a weight lifted from shoulders. There was no need for words really. Not anymore. Everything became dull; there was nothing exciting to speak about unless someone found an item of interest.

Isaac would find various books that he shared with Beth. The two spent hours—when it wasn't their time to drive—reading books and talking to each other about them. Sadie thought it started to take his mind off everything that happened, maybe to get closer to Beth, but then he began to shift. A spark relit in his brown eyes, bringing out the caramel freckles that sprinkled around his pupil. Whenever they spoke, there was hope in his words.

He would lean over the hood of the green Hyundai, hands sprawled over the metal. He would provide a voice of reason into the group, an insight from their time on the road prior to the others. Rick sought out his opinion and suggestion for places to stay. For the last three months, Isaac collected a journal full of their journey; lists of possible places to search for supplies and places to stay.

This latest suggestion was the storage containers. They managed to last two weeks before the beginnings of a herd were spotted during hunting practice between Daryl, Rick, and Sadie. The climate control aspect was rarely used due to the loudness of the generator, but the first night Rick agreed to turn it on was the closest thing to peace Sadie felt. She could strip a layer off of herself for once instead of struggling to stay warm under the three layers.

In the storage units, Daryl found her a set of traditional throwing knives. He taught her how to sharpen her weapons, getting on her for not realizing how dull her blades had become. It was a short sense of normalcy.

But places haven't lasted as long as the group had.

The length of their survival was surprising but lacked worth to be thankful for. Surviving was not living. There was no life to be had in rotten clothes, floating between one dream to the next. Peeling your eyes open after a dream only to realize you were still alive was a punishment from God.

Sadie did not believe in any God but was damn sure they all cursed her for taking her first breath. They knew what she would become and allowed it. 'God has a plan for everyone.' Then what was Sadie's?

There were many moments as walkers grew near and the others urged to run away. Sadie would stare at the dead, scanning their decaying facial features for hers. She would have allowed the dead to consume her, not to save the others time but for herself. To find relief.

There was something simplistic about the dead. They no longer felt, physically or emotionally. They merely wandered around with the desire to eat. Life did not matter to them. Nothing mattered.

A grimy hand gripped the roof of the car, as the Archer came into view. He blocked the rising sun with his body.

"C'mon, Rapunzel. Gotta clear this shit out."

Sadie had first seen Daryl as a lone wolf type, never stay too close for his bite is harsher than his bark. It seemed easier to be that way. Yet as the days continued, his loyalty was as a dog. Nearing as if he feared being alone.

One of the handful of things they could relate on.

Sadie peered upward at the man from the back of the van. The sunlight poke behind him, shadows filled his features. "I'll watch Lori."

"The Greene's are watching her."

"I'll watch over them." She could feel his eyes narrowing at her. His tongue heavy with a rebuttal to everything she could possibly use as an excuse. "I don't want to, okay? Is that good enough?"

"Alright." He nodded shortly, turning away from her to join the others. Sadie trained her eyes on his back, watching the men flicker their eyes off of Daryl onto her. Rick's eyes were most prominent. Disappointment lingered. Then he turned on his heel and began their sweep.

Training. Hunting. Clearing buildings. All attempts from Rick and Daryl to reel Sadie back in. They noticed. The others noticed. Their eyes would drift onto the girl as her eyes grew distant. Not falling back into old habits, but new ones. Fantasizing of an end. Her hands always grasping her blade, sharpening each one that she hid on her body.

It wasn't uncommon for dark thoughts to hold members of the group hostage. The winter was harsh, food grew thin as their patience. Only they still pushed on. They found ways to combat the gray clouds in each other. There was light that still lived within each other.

Sadie was too blind to see.

Footsteps neared. Cracking of a fading winter's leaf. Then hesitation.

Sadie glanced up from her blades. Adorn in a hat two sizes too big for the twelve-year old's head. And in his hands was a gun that he did not need.

"They'll be done soon," Sadie whispered under the wind.

Carl had became her closest friend in these times. He preferred to be silent, as did Sadie. He didn't hover over her with the looming thought that she would one day break. While this was his new life, he did not think of that.

When it came to Sadie, Carl only thought of a gentle rain storm as the sunset. Casting the world in a darken haze with orange glimmer in the far distance. His formative ages left to forget the importance of morality. She would not let him forget.

Carl kept his eyes down. Parting the unmovable dead grass blade with his shoe. His silence was overlooked by the adults—beside Lori. It might have had something to do with his dad, their leader, unwavering would the group follow him. To correct him, even about his parenting wasn't the greatest idea.

"Did you finish the comic?" Sadie lifted her leg to rest her chin on. He wore a shirt Isaac gave him a few weeks back, when they found a motel. Broken down as expected, but a few rooms were usable.

He nodded, still looking elsewhere.

Turning onto her knees, Sadie shuffled into Isaac's bag. The sixteenth edition of a Batman series. A young Robin, dressed in his iconic suit on the cover. She shifted back to the open doors. "Here."

Lifting his head slightly, still covered by the lip of his hat, his smile formed under the shadows. He took his place next to Sadie before taking the comic book into his small hands. Flipping through the pages, absorbing every ounce of the fictional world. "Thanks."

"Thank Isaac when you see him. Kay, Robin?"

"Kay, Batgirl."

"Who's Batgirl again?"

"Cassandra Cain. She's the quiet one."

"What if I wanted to be the other Robin. The...the second one. Didn't he tried stealing Batman's rims, and Batman still saw something in him? Sounds like a badass."

"Jason Todd?" His voice grew considerably. "He's the dead one."

"Oh."

A whistle blew. Short and sweet to signal to the group it was secured. As routine, those who didn't clear were tasked to bring in the sleeping bags and pillows. Sadie took a majority of the items before Lori could think of it. Her near-full term bump was all the weight she needed to carry during this time.

As she walked into the house, dust filled the air as blood and brain matter soaked the wood floors. She watched as Daryl passed by, plucking the feathers of an owl that met the wrong end of his arrow. It wasn't enough to feed them all.

Sadie dropped the items in a corner. She'd sort them out later. Joining the others in an open room with windows in near every side of the house. A sense of fear still wrapped around their throats. No one dared to speak yet.

Her eyes lingered over Isaac. They hadn't spoken more than around each other for the last three months. An argument of sorts. Sadie's fault, she knew it and wasn't upset about it. He simply no longer understood her. Her eyes moved down to her beaten shoes.

In reality it was quite opposite. Sadie no longer understood Isaac.

Carl came into the room with cans in hand. Without a word, he opened them, gaining the attention of others. There it was obvious. The desperation. The desire to eat. The bottom of they had reached. The twelve-year-old was opening wet dog food to cure his stomach.

His father walked over. Sadie inhaled sharply, looking towards Lori. Sorrow in her eyes. Her hand caressing her protruding abdomen. Fear flashed in her dark eyes as Rick slung the can into the fireplace, shattering silence.

But no one spoke out.

Hunger would never rest. They would never rest. Sadie heard something about the wicked never rested. It was their punishment.

T-Dog let out a noise. Walkers closing in. As quickly as they came in, the group escaped.

A walker neared Carol as she shoved a blanket into the back of the truck. An object whizzed by her short hair and into the skull of the dead. The woman muttered a thank you to Sadie.

Butchering the dead was easier than Sadie previously believed. The last nine months had left her to learn the various ways one could massacre the reanimated corpses. Their body did not need nutrients as they did before, leaving their calcium structure to degrade in a slower yet similar manner to their flesh and tissue. Her knives were the easiest and quickest way, from stabbing them through their thin skull at any angle she pleased to throwing her knives. She could utilize branches and objects that no longer served a purpose. Her hands could cradle beneath their jaws as they gnawed and snapped at her, and with such force she never believed she could obtain, Sadie Fontaine would leave her mark upon a wall or floor with their splatter brain.

With blood splattered across her cheek, air rushing into her lungs, Sadie stared at the oncoming handful of walkers. She could have taken them. Sliding her blade into the fragile skulls, she could have.

Isaac tugged onto her arm, yanking her towards the van. He did not speak any words that he hadn't told her before.

"If you want to risk your life to find some freedom, don't do it around the people who care about you."

"15, you're on point," Rick told his son as Beth and Carol took watch on the back half. Sadie stepped forward to join Carl, taking her pistol from her waistband. Rick held out his hand in front of her, barely meeting her eyes. "You gotta learn."

She backpedaled, spinning on her heel to face the adults and Isaac. She inhaled sharply. A teenager disguised as a man. She disguised herself as well, into someone who cared.

Maggie and T-Dog sprawled the map out. Red marks scattered across the paper to signify where they have been and could not return to. Isaac had also marked the herds in large circles. They should've used different colors. "We got no place left to go."

"When this herd meets up with this one, we'll be cut off." Maggie gazed down upon the map, seeking an end to the madness. "We'll never make it south."

Daryl joined Sadie at her side, squeezing her between himself and T-Dog. She could never become accustomed to the scents all of them secreted. "What would you say? That was about 150 head?"

Glenn shrugged. "That was last week. It could be twice that by now."

"This river could have delayed them," Hershel pointed out, easing some of the built-up fear. "If we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through there."

"Yeah, but if this group joins with that one, they could spill out this way."

"Isaac?" Glenn called, bringing the boy from his mind.

He flinched. Blinked hard. Silence.

"What 'bout there? It looks like a valley not too far from here," Sadie noted the map, the lines displayed a divot in an area just out of the path of the herd. "The river's right there, but not close enough to bring walkers into that area."

"It's all trees," Rick interjected, swaying the minds of the people as he always did. "Only thing to do is double back at 27 and swing towards Greenville."

Sadie narrowed her eyes at him. It went unnoticed by the others, but Isaac could feel it. Shame for shutting her down. Her idea wasn't a bad idea as he ran it through his head. One side of it was blocked off by a hill, sound would only travel upward from that side. The river would slow another path. It just wasn't a risk they were willing to take.

"Yeah, we pick through that already," T-Dog pointed out with a scratch of his head. "It's like we spent the winter going in circles."

"Yeah, I know," Rick told, looking at T-Dog. "I know." But he still had more to say. "At Newnan we'll push west. Haven't been through there yet. We can't keep going house to house. We need to find someplace to hold up for a few weeks."

T-Dog accepted it. As did everyone else. Rick's say was final. "All right. Is it cool if we get to the creek before we head out? Won't take long."

Sadie clicked her tongue. Her eyes went West towards her idea. A mile or two through the trees. The unlikely hood of them ever coming back here stood high. It would tick in her brain. Tick. Tick. Tick. She glanced up to Daryl.

"Wanna go hunting?"

"That owl didn't exactly hit the spot."

Daryl called Rick to join them on their venture. Unknowingly, or knowingly following behind Sadie as she spotted tracks. Neither men dared to take the lead from her as she walked with a purpose rather than an order. Her eyes kept onto the man-made path. She didn't veer off of it when Daryl spotted a bunny before it jumped away.

"We're heading too far, Sadie," Rick called out, halting on the train tracks. Daryl stopped with him, eyes trained on Sadie.

She faced them. Her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. "Not yet."

One foot in front of the other. Left foot. Right foot. Crunching of dry leaves. Scatter of bugs. Running of water.

The stream.

The trees ahead grew thin. Sadie stepped forward to find the valley. With a prison placed in the middle.

Walkers moaned in the open area, confided by large fences topped with barbed wire. Three layers of fencing. The land nearly the size of the farm. A creek nearby.

"That's a shame."

Walls. A roof. Shelter.

Sadie looked up at Rick. A light re-alit in his eyes. "Just trees my ass."

A smile formed on his face as a chuckle slipped passed his cracked lips. He looked at her proudly. Sadie realized he did it on purpose. Made her invest into something and seek out an answer. Made her find something that might, possibly be worth wild.

A chance at a fresh start.

i changed the title because it fits better and i'm debating to put every season into one book, but only time will tell.