Madison:
The first rays of sunlight spilled across the fields of the dairy, golden and soft, casting long shadows through the dew-soaked grass. The world was quiet, save for the bird chirping in the distance.
Madison sat on the porch steps, arms wrapped around her knees, her back aching from the cold wood. She stayed out all night, her eyes scanning the field, her fear of what could be behind the tree line had lessened, her trust in Wesker was growing as the hours passed.
Eventually, thirst won her.
She pushed open the front door with a quiet creak and stepped into the cool dimness of the house. The air inside smelled of dust, warmth, and something faintly human.
She paused.
There, on the couch, Alicia was curled up, half draped across Wesker's bare chest, fast asleep. Her cheek rested over his heart, her lips slightly parted. A thin line of drool glistened against his skin.
Madison's breath caught, not in anger. But in surprise.
Her eyes fell on the relaxed face of Alciia sleeping peacefully.
For the first time since Nick's death… her daughter's face wasn't being haunted.
Her shoulders softened, and she approached them slowly, careful not to wake them. Kneeling beside the couch, she reached out and gently brushed a damp lock of hair from Alicia's cheeks.
A sound, breathless, almost a laugh, escaped her, followed by a tear.
It slid down her cheek, warm against her skin, bitter with guilt.
'Had I told you about the drugs, would you have forgiven me?'
'If I'd kept him away from them? Had I been tougher on him, he would still be here with me, with you.'
She leaned in and kissed Alicia's forehead.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Then Wekser's eyes opened.
Devoid of any emotion, a cold and sharp look, enough to scare anyone.
And it did.
Madison startled, jerking slightly.
"Ah—you scared me," she murmured, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.
I watched her stand up, I moved slowly and deliberately, I sat up, carefully sliding Alicia's arm from around my torso. Her fingers twitched in protest, but didn't wake her.
"Good morning," I muttered.
My voice was low, half gravel, the kind that hadn't been used in hours. Madison only nodded, still looking at Alicia. She stayed silent, but her eyes followed me.
I stood, bare feet touching the wooden floor, and walked toward the kitchen. My body ached, not from exhaustion, but from recovery. I hadn't slept in two days, nor had I eaten anything worth mentioning, but last night had me spent.
Now I was starving.
Madison followed me, the floorboards creaking faintly behind her. She didn't speak at first, just walked in behind me like a shadow, her steps uncertain.
I pulled open the cabinet, finding a half-stale box of crackers and canned beans, which I hate. I set them on the counter and finally turned to face her.
She wasn't looking at my face.
Her gaze was lower, hesitating, but glued. Her eyes traced the few scars that danced across my torso, the [Metabolism] skill was unable to heal in time.
Her breath caught, barely audible.
Then her eyes snapped away as shame bloomed in her expression.
She reached for a metal cup, filled it from the jug near the sink, and drank it, giving her something to do, something to hide behind.
I turned back to the counter, saying nothing.
I looked at the unappetizing beans, a frown flicked to my brow, vanishing quickly as Nick's face flashed before my eyes.
[Flashback]
Last day at Travelier Motel
The sun was at its highest when the group began moving. Cardboard boxes scraped over pavement, duffle bags were dragged to the vehicles, and boots thudded softly in the morning chill. There was no talking, just quiet urgency. The Motor Inn, once a sanctuary, was now hust of what it had been, just like the town.
Katjaa packed medical supplies under Lilly's watchful eye. Kenny loaded the trunk with canned goods. Carley and Madison worked in quiet tandem. Alicia, sleeves rolled up, tapped down the final flaps of the supply crate.
Nick didn't lift a finger.
He sat near the makeshift fence, twitching, scratching his arm, sweat beading along his brow. His gaze bounced between shadows. He hadn't slept, not at all, for days.
That's when he saw it.
An orange bottle, half buried in the dirt near the fence line, shone like silver in the afternoon sun. But it was trash, maybe. But something about it pulled at him. A flicker of hope ignited in his blood, and his heartbeat quickened.
He rose and staggered forward, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. No one was watching. Lilly had locked down meds like a hawk. But this, this could really do it for him, for now.
He picked it up.
Oxycodone. Half-faded label. The prescription had long expired. The cap was still shut tight. But the bottle was warm to the touch, maybe from the sunlight. He slid out of the Motel, toward the forest.
Leaning against a tree, he opened it with trembling fingers.
Inside, disappointment met him.
The pills were ruined. Wet, bloated. Some has dissolved halfway into the sludge. They'd absorbed moisture—water? Sweat?
He almost threw it.
Almost.
Nick tilted the bottle to his lips and swallowed what he could, chewed the softened masses like old gum, and snorted the powdery residue that clung to the sides like mold. He barely even gagged.
And then it hit.
First, his legs. Heavy, and then the weight climbed into his chest like a stone. His head lolled forward. Eyes fluttered. The trees around him blurred. His fingers were numb now. Cold. His breathing was ragged.
He stumbled like a Walker deeper into the forest, past the tree line, collapsing near a thick oak, slumping with his back against the bark. His lungs were slowing with each breath.
He jolted as sticks cracked behind him.
Out of the woods, calm as ever. He stood over him, Wesker, silent for a long moment. The usual icy mask was gone, and a frown was visible on his face.
Anger, but it was still under his control, like everything else.
He crouched next to Nick, his shadow falling over the dying man.
Nick's eyelids fluttered open, panic finally settling in, until now he thought he had gotten his hands on some pretty good stuff. That's why he walked away from the Motel.
Wesker tilted his head and whispered closer to his ear, voice like razors gliding over silk.
"You should thank me really. I could have taken my time with you. I should, but I need the body without marks."
He gently tapped Nick's jaw, keeping him awake without leaving a bruise.
"You shouldn't have done that to Carley," Wesker said, almost casually, "I mean, 'tried'."
He stood up, looking down at him, at the shaking, dying husk.
"What you tried to do should've earned you hours of agony… but I'm a generous man."
Then he leaned down again, lower, and whispered. His voice dropped into a tone only meant for demons and dying men.
"You left your sister. Your mother, too. Just imagine what I'll do to them…" he paused, "And I'm going to enjoy every second of it."
A smirk twitched at the edge of his mouth, then vanished.
Wesker stepped back, turned, but paused after a step. He looked down at Nick's hand clutching the bottle, pulled it out of his stiffened grip, "Can't leave evidence behind now, can I?" he muttered to himself and left, disappearing into the woods.
[Flashback over]
Wesker slid the can of beans back into the cabinet with a quiet scrape of tin on wood. He had no appetite for the mush, and even less tolerance for the taste.
Madison stepped beside him.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice still raspy, "For… staying with her."
Wesker nodded without turning.
"I haven't seen her sleep like that in days. Her face…" Madison's voice trailed, "She's finally resting."
A moment passed in silence.
She stepped closer, close enough that her shoulder brushed his. Then, closer still, her arm slid against his, and her chest pressed gently against the curve of his bicep.
Wesker noticed, of course, he noticed. But didn't care.
His expression remained unreadable, his breath slow and level. His gaze remained forward, on the empty counter, flickering to Alicia, who was stirring in her sleep.
And before the moment could become even more awkward, the floor creaked.
Madison moved quickly enough to hide the closeness between them.
At the edge of the hallway stood Clementine, hair and an unholy mess, tangled in all directions, a blanket still dragging behind her like a cape.
"...Is it morning?" she asked, voice hoarse.
Madison cleared her throat and stepped out of the kitchen, not daring to make eye contact with either of them.
Wesker, without missing a beat, nodded. "Yeah. It is"
Half an hour later.
They cooked behind the house, using the old stone fire pit that St.John's had built before they moved in. With gas lines long dry and the electric stove inside would use too much fuel, the fire pit had become their kitchen.
Wesker sparked the fire using dry kindling stored in the barn. Madison brought over a cast-iron skillet, already rubbed with a bit of oil. Alicia helped Clementine wash the handful of remaining tomatoes while Lilly cracked a few eggs.
The smell of woodsmoke mixed with frying egg and oats.
Lilly stood up with a plate and turned to the house.
"I'll take it to Carley," she said. "Check on her."
"Is she still sleeping?" Alicia asked.
"She said she's sore," Lilly replied, a knowing smirk at her lips as her gaze fell on Wesker. Alicia blushed, remembering why Carley was sore.
Clementine looked confused for a second before turning to her plate. Madison, though she hadn't heard anything last night, could still guess what had transpired the night before. And hope ignited in her that shouldn't... not for that.
.
.
The door creaked open after a soft knock.
Carley flinched, clutching the blanket tighter around herself, despite the T-shirt and shorts she already wore underneath. She sat upright in the bed, posture stiff, hiding behind a veil of discomfort and vulnerability. Purple and red bruised peeked out around her collarbone, more on her shoulder, and deeper along her sides. Faint teeth marks dotted her skin on her abdomen, and a more vicious set decorated her inner thighs.
Lilly stepped in, plate in hand, lips curled into a half-smirk.
"Well, someone's walking funny today," she said, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Carley scowled instantly, yanking the blanket up to her chin, "Shut up."
Lilly set the tray on the side table with theatrical care, crouching slightly as she leaned in closer.
"I brought eggs, because you clearly burned all your energy last night. Or did he eat that too?" she whispered with a mischievous grin.
Carley's eyes widened, mouth parting in disbelief. "Lilly—"
"What?" Lilly raised an eyebrow, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. "I'm not judging. In fact—"
She paused, her voice lowering to a purr. "We could always share him sometime. Save you the limping."
Carley's face turned red. She blinked, stunned, trying to form words, then blurted out, sharp and loud.
"Get out!"
Lilly only laughed, raising her hand in mock surrende ass he backed toward the door."Offers on the table, or the bed, you pick."
The door closed behind her with a gentle thud.
.
.
The couch groaned as I leaned back into it, legs slightly apart, elbow resting on my thighs. The air inside the farmhouse was thick with woodsmoke and the lingering scent of breakfast. Faint laughter from outside had faded. We were all here now.
To my right, Clementine sat close, her shoulder brushing mine. Still half-lidded from her early rising, but calmer than usual.
To my left, Lilly lounged as if this were a normal afternoon, legs crossed, her head resting on my shoulder, a faint grin ghosting her lips, no doubt from whatever teaching she'd thrown Carley's way.
And Carley—she sat by the window, the furthest point in the room, posture rigid. Her cheeks still held the faint pink of embarrassment, and her gaze did everything it could to avoid everyone's. She'd been aggressive last night, but now she was off-balance.
Madison and Alicia sat across from me, both keeping their distance.
I let the silence hang just long enough.
Then I spoke.
"What happened yesterday can't happen again."
That got their attention.
Lilly straightened lightly. Carley's finger twitched. Alicia frowned, and Madison sat still. Clem look up at me quietly.
I kept my tone neutral.
"We got lucky, but luck won't last. The people we'll face out there…" I glanced at each of them in turn. "They'll be worse than yesterday's, worse than walkers, They're more patient, more cunning. And they won't stumble while lunging at you."
I let the words sink in, I needed to terrify them, otherwise, Duck's 'sacrifice' would be in vain.
I counted on Save-lots firing warning shots, that's why I let them. I wanted the group to understand the dangers as I understood them.
You can't turn iron into a weapon without striking it with a hammer.
And someone needed to bleed to make the rest realize that.
The only downside I hadn't expected was Kenny to run; I mean, I should've, I've seen his cowardly act a dozen times.
And that mistake left me with only five people, and they're all women, much weaker than a man, a gun might equalize them on the battlefield, but close combat? Building a base?
"You all need to learn to use guns properly, and…" I continued, my eyes going to Madison, "Learn to not hesitate when it comes to saving one of us." Madison looked down at her lap.
Carley shifted uncomfortably. Lilly's smirk had thinned. Clementine and Alicia listened closely.
"I want you ready for what's coming. That's all."
****
Read +3 or +7 chapters ahead on my Pat*eon
First_Endless