Reading her diary is weird. I guess because so many people read her for so long that now I’m her audience now. Her ego is odd and real yet she is really insecure. I don’t write like her, I just put down here what I’m feeling. She needs her special pen and she told me later that she likes to write in a hat which I think is completely retarded.
But it’s her thing and I get that.
When we got to the house and she sat in a dead woman’s clothes, Lucy just became really quiet. We sat in the back on a patio that had been built 40 years ago. Dog pens with pets that had been dead for decades blocked our view but we listened.
We didn’t see any walkers (which I guess is better than deadies when I think about it) but we kept looking.
I busted open a beer and then another one. I wasn’t expecting to live and although she didn’t say it, I don’t think she was either.
After about six of them when I had a nice, depressing buzz going on, she finally spoke.
“Why didn’t they eat us?” she said. Luce had a bottle of water and a grimace on her face. The sky was dark. She was staring at the girl being torn apart by the walkers. I knew that. She didn’t hide it because she can’t hide anything.
I didn’t know what to say because hell, I don’t know.
“Wanna beer?” I said. “Those military people are watching us.”
“I know.” She muttered.
She grabbed a beer from the cooler, which I didn’t expect. Damn, I didn’t know it then but this chick could back some beer.
I thought about what I said. Why were they lingering so close behind us?
That’s when we heard the gunfire.
“Lucy, why are the protecting us?” I asked. It was the first time, but not nearly the last, that we heard the pops in the distance. We became used to it after time but in the beginning, it was scaring the shit out of me.
Luce didn’t say anything but she drained her beer. Then she grabbed another one of them and held onto it like it was the only thing she had ever held in her hands. It scared me. I kinda got used to her not reacting even though we’d only been together for a matter of hours.
You get used to things quick when shit like this happens.
“We are going to have to sleep together tonight,” she said after awhile. “Ben, for some reason that I can’t explain, they are protecting us and I don’t know why.”
She started crying in that way that girls do that makes you want to protect them and when I tried to touch her hand, she pushed away. It pissed me off but what do you say.
“They don’t kill us,” she said after she was finished and she wiped her hands on the sleeves of the stolen shirt. “And that’s what they are watching. We have become a science project and I don’t like it.”
I can’t get her to write or even talk about this right now, looking back.
It got better then it got worse.
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