Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Survival Isn't An Option	By : Pilgrim Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 6774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters from the series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 33
- 34
- 35
It didn’t take long for the banging on the carriage to stir someone from outside to remove the corpse of Nathaniel. Isabelle stared as the body was dragged out unceremoniously. Maggie had hold of her shoulders, as if the bracing of another human would keep her from collapsing internally. The darkness of the carriage closed about them once more and she followed the group back to their end of the carriage. They sat in silence, each contemplating their own thoughts, their own futures. Was there a way to get out of here? Did it matter anymore? Where was the rest of the group?
Time passed eerily in the carriage, it was like the bunker, barely enough light coming through the few cracks. Isabelle suspected that the light that was filtering through was artificial at best anyway. Leaving them in an eternal twilight of the unknown. “What did he mean… Daryl’s made you a better person?” Maggie queried in the darkness.
“Just… I guess more capable of coping in this world,” Isabelle deflected casually. “We had a couple of sticky moments, Daryl’s defence practice with me meant we survived them.”
“Weird way to phrase it though,” Maggie continued prying.
          Isabelle glanced across through the darkness. Wondering just what Maggie was alluding to. Since when had Maggie cared about her, or her friends or associations. They weren’t the closest, they’d had a few companionable chats over the water barrels and at meals but overall the two hadn’t interacted much. “Guess it’s just the British way of talking,” Isabelle muttered, picking at her jeans.
“Was he meaning your past?” Maggie queried again.
“Seriously, it was just a turn of phrase,” Isabelle snapped.
“I thought you were just a ballerina? How can Daryl make a ballerina better?” Maggie demanded.
“Maggie, seriously, drop it! In case you hadn’t noticed we have a slightly bigger problem revolving around us being trapped in a train carriage,” Isabelle shouted in frustration.
“She has a point,” Glenn interjected.
“What is this? Gang up on Isabelle time?” Isabelle jumped to her feet, anger and adrenaline heated blood firing her already agitated body into action. “You already left me for dead in the prison.”
“That was an accident and perhaps it was for the best, what did he mean?” Maggie snapped, clambering to her own feet to face off against Isabelle. “Why are you so defensive about it?”
“Because it’s the past, no one else has to divulge where they’re from or what they were doing so why should I?” Isabelle growled.
“Just answer the question,” A man she didn’t know shouted over the clamour.
“We care because you could hurt Daryl, and he’s one of us,” Glenn soothed, standing between the two irate women.
“Fine, you want to know what he was referring to. I’ll tell you,” Isabelle hissed realising that it wouldn’t matter anymore, what were the odds of seeing him ever again. What were the odds any of them would get out of this alive? “I was a great ballerina and I wasn’t being noticed until a director asked for a favour in return for the prima position. I gave him what he wanted and I got what I wanted. Nice and easy, one little night, just a couple of hours and it wasn’t unpleasant. I learned that giving up one or two nights I could earn favours, benefits and perks above and beyond what I would have been able to get without those nights of fun,” Isabelle purred. “So I slept with anyone and everyone who had something that I wanted, money, jewels, directors of new ballets, directors of theatres, or for a shot at a future of luxury. Do you know who the man used to be?”
          Even through the darkness she could see the growing disgust on Maggie’s face. It sent a thrill of amusement and at the same time mirrored disgust through her own body. Thinking of her past demeanours wasn’t a pleasant experience, she hadn’t really thought through her actions at the time. It had been pleasure and reward in an ongoing circle of delights. There had been no repercussions because almost all of the other dancers had done the same. No one had looked down on anyone else, no one had cared what the others did as long as they got to dance, as long as their careers still took off. As long the perks kept coming in who cared how it had been sourced. No one had asked because they already knew and if they didn’t it was because they didn’t want to know.
“He was a multi-billionaire. I danced with him in the Himalayas at Christmas last year, dressed in silks and furs of endangered animals. My throat was encased in close to two million pounds’ worth of diamonds that his family had mined. I’d sleep with him, keep him happy and I’d get jewellery, holidays, fine clothes and access to any club or theatre I wanted. If he didn’t have access to something I’d fuck whoever did have access to it,” Isabelle spat the words out viciously. “I’m addicted to sex! I love the pleasure, the tease, the heat… by the time I got Nathaniel hooked I just did it for fun.”
          Isabelle trailed her fingertips down her breastbone, to emphasise her small pert breasts realising she didn’t have anything more than her bra and jeans on. Her shirt had gone with Nathaniel, still wrapped about his wound. In the gloom no one else had noticed and in the drama it had been the least of her worries. Not that she cared anymore.
“You need to stay away from Daryl, he’s a good man,” Maggie snapped furiously. “You don’t deserve him; you don’t deserve anyone! He’s far, far too good for you.”
“How do you put up with her Glenn, so demanding?” Isabelle whispered teasingly stepping up to him. He was still stood between her and Maggie. She trailed her fingers down his chin, and moved as if to kiss him. “You ever want some real fun I can guarantee you won’t be disappointed. I can do something quite delicious with my tongue…”
          Maggie’s slap about her face caught her off guard and she stumbled back and away from Glenn. Pressing a hand to her stinging cheek she laughed as Maggie continued to threaten her with anything she could think of. Glenn and the rest of the group pulling her back and away. They shouted at her to go to the other end of the trailer and she didn’t need telling twice. Isabelle laughed and headed over already regretting her outburst. A metallic tang tainted her mouth and she spat out the blood from her bitten cheek. Death, despair, confessions, blood, what else would this day bring. Silence fell in the carriage slowly, Isabelle sank to the floor, her back to the end of the carriage.
“You were engaged?” The same voice shouted out suddenly, Isabelle trailed her fingers over her chest and realised the ring was no longer there.
“No, he was going to the night we were ambushed,” Isabelle groaned, something else she could be screamed at for. Something else to feel guilty about.
          A metal clatter rung out near her feet and Isabelle felt for the ring. Fingers feeling the thin chain she dropped it over her head, letting the cold metal rest over her heart once more. She would keep it, a constant reminder of who she had been and who she wanted to become. The moment she had touched it she had felt the change, the need to be better. To leave behind all the taint of the past and walk in this world in a new light. Something told her if the group did ever get united this wouldn’t be the last she’d hear of her own past. Perhaps she’d never be rid of the taint, it pervaded her soul as much as the blood she had spilled. Pulling her knees up she sat in silence, listening to the distant mumble of the group.
          The rattle of bullets firing in the distance drew their attention and Isabelle leapt to her feet. She scrambled for the door but there was no viewpoint through it. Bullets echoed in the courtyard outside and then an eerie silence fell. Someone was speaking in the distance and there were shapes moving. A hand pulled her away from the door and she followed the group to the other side of the carriage. In the face of potential death what did it matter if you were surrounded by people you’d had just confessed your worst moments to… they were still potentially the last friendly, non-death threatening faces she would ever see. The carriage door rattled open ominously and blazing daylight poured through. Isabelle with the others turned her eyes from the light, feeling the stabbing pain acutely from the hours spent in relative darkness.
          It sounded like people were entering, footsteps echoed through the carriage for several moments before the door rattled shut once more. Isabelle kept her eyes closed, waiting for the pain to subside as she suspected the rest of the group would be doing as well. Slowly they began to blink through the darkness, there were gasps and cries. Isabelle blinked, trying to accustom her eyes to the darkness once more. Without warning she was enveloped strongly in a bear hug to best all bear hugs, muscled arms pinning her arms to her sides. For a moment she panicked before recognising the feel, the aura of safety that seemed to come with it and she instinctively wrapped her arms about Daryl. Tears broke through her defences and she let them loose down her cheeks as she clung to him, fingers knotting into his jacket. She pressed her face into his chest and breathed in deeply to calm herself.
“Why are you half naked?” He demanded, pushing her away slightly and pulling his jerkin from his shoulders and pushing her into it.
“She’s used to it,” Maggie snidely remarked from further back where she was stood with what looked like Rick.
“Yeah well not anymore,” Daryl muttered angrily.
“You know?” Maggie retorted disbelievingly.
“Past’s in the past,” Daryl snapped. “Doesn’t matter what we did or why, what matters is what we do now. Isn’t that what this group is about?”
“She tried to seduce Glenn and you’re defending her? A whore?” Maggie shouted.
“She ain’t no whore,” Daryl shouted back. “I met enough of…” He struggled to mention Merle’s name but everyone already knew where he was heading. “Belle isn’t like them, not even close.”
“It doesn’t matter Daryl,” Isabelle whispered, well aware she’d made her own bed as far as Maggie was concerned. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I have no interest in Glenn and I know he only has eyes for you even if I was interested. I spoke out of anger and frustration and loss.”
“Whatever’s going on right now can we put it aside? We have a slightly more pressing issue than who Isabelle is or is not interested in,” Rick snapped. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re trapped in a train carriage with no weapons and we’re surrounded by madmen.”
          Isabelle hung back as the group settled back into its dynamic. The last thing they needed was her presence igniting Maggie or any other member who was more beneficial than her. She felt the acute discomfort that accompanies any time spent as a spare wheel. Right now, she was the sparest of wheels. Folding her arms about herself she hugged Daryl’s jerkin closer to herself, relishing the warmth that was still in the leather. Every movement was a comfort, the slightest brush of the leather releasing the familiar smells she had come to associate with Daryl and safety. She was getting distracted and turned her attention back to the group.
“Find anything that can be used as a weapon,” Rick commanded, his face deadly serious.
          Daryl pressed a shaft of snapped and rusted metal into her hand. He looked at her deadly serious. “Whatever happens you just run, you understand?”
“Not a chance, you’re stuck with me Daryl Dixon until one of us no longer draws breath,” She snapped firmly, forcing as much authority into her expression as she could and ignoring his smirk.
- 33
- 34
- 35
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Survival Isn't An Option