Chapter 51: It's a Long Way Back
We had been walking for hours before the sun eventually disappeared from behind the horizon and we were forced to post up for the night. At this point, the adrenaline pumping through my body after the crash had worn off and the true extent of my injuries began to kick in. From what I could tell I hadn't been seriously injured. My bones ached from being pinballed around the backseat of the car, but nothing was broken. I could almost guarantee that I am concussed, but what worried me the most was getting the large shard of glass out of my hairline. Nevertheless, I could feel my body start to wear down, it needed a rest after the trauma.
I sat next to Linc as he tried to hide how cold he was, every so often his body would shake with a shiver before he tried to play it off. His injuries were the worst out of the three of us. After the explosion, as Linc was laying on the grass still unconscious, we found a large gash in the side of his abdomen. We wrapped it up as best we could, but he was still slowly losing blood and after each hour that passed you could see it in his face that it was taking a toll on him.
I watched as Mark leant over the little fire he had made, making sure it stayed lit. He concentrated on the flame, turning around his baseball cap to put it on backwards so he could see better as he pushed around small sticks and dried out leaves to keep it going. My eyes then trailed back over to Lincoln, his skin looked pale with purple rings around his eyes.
"You should try getting some sleep," I said to Linc, softly.
His eyes stayed locked on the little flame from the fire, but he snickered, "Why haven't they come looking for us?" he asked.
"It was too close to nightfall. Rick would never let them risk going out on a manhunt when by the time they got back here it'd be the middle of the night," I explained.
"How could they have not turned around though-- checked on us?" Lincoln questioned further.
"Linc, we missed the exit. They knew we'd just take the next as we did, they have no way of knowing that we crashed after that. They probably think we're lost." I was trying to ease his mind, he was getting worked up because he was in the most pain out of all of us. I'd never seen this side of him before, but he was scared.
Lincoln finally looked over at me, his eyes were heavy. He nodded, agreeing with me before he laid down to try and get some rest. From there it was quiet for quite a while, the invading thoughts entering my mind as my ears stayed on high alert. We were in trouble, with no food, no water, no weapons, no sunlight, and we were in the middle of nowhere. If walkers had stumbled across our path, I don't know how we'd be able to fight our way out. I listened to every possible sound that rustled around us. It'd be a sleepless night for Mark and I.
About an hour passed of silence, or what felt like an hour. Thankfully, Lincoln had fallen asleep quickly, I could hear his heavy intakes of breath from being in a deep sleep, it was almost calming. I could feel Mark's eyes on me, watching me as my vision stayed trained on the flame. I had my knees pressed up to my chest, hugging them with my arms to stay warm. Mark didn't say a word as he stood up and walked over to where I sat. I looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.
"We should get that glass out of your head," he said as he crouched down beside me. I stayed quiet while he gently held onto my chin, turning my head so he could get a good look at it.
"I'm fine-" I said before wincing at his touch when he brushed my hair back to see how deep it had gone.
"You're not," he responded.
"Well, yeah, not when you touch it," I said. I was being snarky, but joking with him to try and make light of the situation. He chuckled. "How are you going to get it out?"
"You're not going to like it," he said, smirking at me. He stood up again, walking a couple of feet away and picking up a small stick. "Put this between your teeth." He handed me the piece of wood as he sat down beside me. I sighed and positioned myself so I was facing him.
"Just do it," I shook my head slightly before placing the stick between my teeth. He parted my hair again and I flinched as I felt the pressure of his hand simply holding the shard of glass.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Yes," I poorly mumbled out as the stick warped my speech. I took a deep breath in as he began to pull the glass out. I groaned out a sharp noise even though I tried my best to remain silent. I could hear the glass scrape against my tissue and my head throbbed.
"Got it," Mark sighed, a smile on his face as I took a deep breath in. I whipped the stick out of my mouth.
"Holy fuck," I muttered out before I felt a trickle of blood roll down my cheek. I watched as Mark pulled his shirt over his head and bunched it up before placing it on my forehead. My eyes locked on him. "You're gonna freeze," I nearly whispered as I stared up at his face.
His eyes remained on the wound he was covering, "It's only until the bleeding stops."
"Thank you," I murmured. He looked down at me, his eyes finally meeting mine. He didn't respond, but a small smile flashed across his face. I took his shirt from him, holding it to my head on my own. It was quiet for a bit as he made himself comfortable again. "You know, I don't really know much about you," I said, "none of us do."
"What do you wanna know?" he asked, amused with my statement. It was so different talking to him over Daryl. Daryl had layers that you could only peel back if he allowed it, whereas Mark seemed to be an open book, willing to let anyone in as long as you asked.
"Lincoln told me that you guys met at a camp. Where were you before that?" I asked. I wanted to know so much more, but in today's world, you had to choose your questions wisely. You never knew what would be too much to ask for a person.
He looked over at me, giving me an odd stare, "What is the question you really wanna ask me?"
I stared at him for a moment, he saw right through me. "Do you have any family?" I asked softly.
That always seems to be the burning question that I want to know whenever I come across paths with someone new. It's like that one question could tell their whole story of how they got to where they are today. What was the life they had beforehand? Who were they with or what did they have to do to end up where they are now? Even with the Governor, I think about it. What had to have happened to his family to turn him into what he is now? Where did it all go wrong?
"I did," he answered, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Or, I still do. There's no way to know for sure. I had flown from Boston to Atlanta with my little sister to visit my grandparents. We were here for about three days before they shut down all the airports. Then things just went from bad to worse, they began evacuating people and my grandfather's heart was already bad, to begin with. The stress of it all killed him." I watched him as he explained his story, he didn't look uncomfortable. He was sorrowful as he talked about it, but it was like he was relieved to share it with someone. "My grandmother actually made it to one of the refugee camps, she survived longer than I expected. As terrible as it is to say. Then one night she died in her sleep, the grieving was too much for her, but she was one of the luckier ones." he sighed, his face changing like this next part was going to be harder for him to explain. "I'm sure Linc told you about the last group we were with before Woodbury?"
"Yeah," I said quietly, answering him.
"They were mine and my sister's fifth group, all really good people, it's where we met Linc," he explained. "They were inexperienced though, only surviving by fear. They were runners, never staying anywhere more than a day. When that herd of walkers blew through our camp I was so focused on helping them, trying to take out as many walkers as I could that I hadn't even heard my sister screaming out for help before it was already too late. Linc and I were the only ones that survived--" he trailed off like he was hiding something. He was about to say it but stopped himself. "So, I don't know, my parents could still be alive in Boston. I could have family left, but after everything that has happened I don't think I would be able to see them again."
It was silent for a moment as he stared down at the fire thinking about it. My heart mourned for his loss. It explained why he kept himself so distant from our group, never really connecting himself to us. He had been through so many in the past, experienced losing so many people while he survived. I imagined he thought he was a curse.
"What was her name?" I asked, breaking the silence. He looked over at me, furrowing his brows at my question. "Your sister, what was her name?"
A small smile lit up his face, "Aurora, I called her Rory though and she hated it," he snickered thinking about it. His face then dropped, "She was only fourteen."
I wasn't sure how to respond to him. I didn't want to make him feel worse than he already did. I was the one to ask this question.
"You do have a family still," I finally spoke up. He looked over to me, his eyes boring into mine. I wanted him to hear and understand me when I said this, "We're your family now and we're not going anywhere."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
kaboo
kaboo About time for some insight on Mark!
I can't wait for you guys to see how I tie this back into TWD storyline! Get ready xx
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone