Chapter Text
DAY 20
It’s been what? A week or more? It was getting harder and harder to keep track of time. Not that it would be of any help, but Michael liked feeling stabilized and knowing the exact duration of their situation secured that feeling.
They’ve still been walking for quite a while, no sense of direction, just endless movement. Not that it mattered, their previous and recent searches for resources had proven to be quite successful and they weren’t running too low on supplies seeing as they were only three people. Still, there were bigger issues to take care of, as for rest. They couldn’t just keep walking forever. They needed a place to sleep, they couldn’t even sleep in the open, clearly and obviously scared of something happening while they slept, and yes, while one could keep watch, it was still rather dangerous to sleep in the open.
Finding buildings to rest in wasn’t too hard, it was more so deciding who to keep watch, because let’s be honest, nobody wanted to.
They continued to walk for quite a bit before Sucre finally decided that he had enough, “We’ve been walking for so long!” He complained, “I’m tired, bro! Can’t we take a break?” Michael sighed, he wanted to rest as well, but really it was better to rest at night—seeing as though the sun hadn’t set too much—the undead came out a lot at sundown, so they made a rule before, that they would scavenge when it was easy in the morning, then hide out and rest at night, plus that way they would also prevent from disturbing their bodily sleep patterns.
Then Michael thought about it a slight bit more, they weren’t really running low on supplies, no need to search for anymore, this was gonna last them for quite a while, he also took into account how long they were really just pointlessly walking, it would be of good use to maybe just rest for a bit. Maybe just today, they didn’t need to worry about not being able to find a place to rest at the last minute, and wouldn't have to worry about not finding anything worth it that day. He turned to Lincoln, and Lincoln nodded his head, agreeing with Sucre. Michael sighed once again, “Fine. Let’s find a place to rest.”
Sucre lit up again, he smiled, “Thank you!” Lincoln let out a sigh of relief and stretched lazily, he was tired as well.
They continued to walk, but this time with a clear goal of finding a place to stay, and finally after a couple more minutes of walking, with no complaints this time, they finally found a small store with a dim lit, broken green sign that read “Dollar General.” It seemed safe and it had already been thoroughly searched, so they wouldn’t be suspecting any unwanted visitors anytime soon.
Lincoln approached first this time, he slowly stepped near the censor mat, but no surprise, it didn’t work, so he forcefully pulled the glass doors open, without needing to use much strength. The rest entered in, and figured they should search to see if it really was completely searched through.
Michael this time took the right side and began to look around, a couple of knocked over shelves, cans, bugs even. Gross. Mostly dead bugs, he wondered if they had been infected with the virus that caused the undead situation, the apocalypse. How did this even happen in the first place? He knew it had something to do with Lincoln and whoever tried to frame him into Fox River, he just had this gut wrenching feeling that they weren’t as safe as they thought they’d be from whoever was trying to put Lincoln in the ground as they thought. That maybe, it’d just narrow down the search for them even more. He shivered at the thought. What did Lincoln have to do with all this? He only knew his brother did, he just couldn’t quite place his finger on it, and he had another feeling, that they were coming for them sooner than he’d like. In fact—
Michael’s train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a loud crash somewhere where Lincoln had gone, immediately thinking of the worst, he rushed over to where the sound was, had his fears manifested?
Nearing the corner he saw Sucre near them, but a shelf blocked his view, Sucre looked shocked, and Michael tried his best to quickly move around the lines of shelves, and when he finally did he saw..
T.. Theodore Bagwell?!
Needless to say, they were not expecting him to still be alive. Lincoln had him restrained by his right arm, and he looked just as beat as the others, in terms of bruises and such. Michael also noticed his hand, the same hand that had been chopped off the day they had escaped Fox River. In its place, to Michael’s amusement, was a plastic hook, seemingly from a pirate costume, and he fought the urge not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, “What’s with the hand?”
All three, including Tbag, quickly turned to look at his left hand, and Sucre was the first to burst into laughter. The mood instantly lightened, and Lincoln chuckled with them, but Tbag didn’t look too happy, in fact, more so awkward, he quickly pulled his left arm behind his back. Lincoln just let him go.
Michael didn’t want to admit, sure, he hated the guy, but he couldn’t help feeling just a bit glad they were able to find somebody else in this apocalypse, let alone somebody they, as distasteful as it was, knew back in Fox River.
It, however, did not mean he was coming with them.
Michael turned to Tbag and saw he had a backpack on, one used typically in camping. It seemed to be filled with stuff, maybe he was the one who had scavenged this store, “Empty it.” Michael said, before thinking.
Tbag immediately backed away, “What…”
Michael doesn't remember stuttering, “I said, empty the backpack.”
Tbag shook his head, “You must be out of your mind, Pretty.” Michael clenched his hands into a fist at the nickname, this wasn’t Fox River.
“I don’t want to repeat myself.” Michael took a step forward, as much as Michael didn’t want to do this, it was a dog eat dog world now, plus he had taken enough of Tbag’s bullshit back in prison, and just as Michael suspected he would have, Tbag pulled out a shank from his pocket and pointed it directly at Michael, “Back. Up.”
Lincoln, seeing his brother in trouble immediately went over and grabbed Tbag by the arm and tried to pull the blade away, but to no avail, because boy did he hang on tight, and Lincoln quickly dodged before he got hurt as Tbag thrust the blade forward and accidentally stabbed Sucre right in the stomach.
Sucre gasped and opened his eyes wide, and for a second time seemed to stop, and as Sucre opened his mouth again to speak, blood spilled out instead, and everything felt way too real again, he stumbled backwards and Lincoln caught him, before he could fall, and he coughed more blood up while his shirt stained with red. Tbag and Michael just stared in shock, holy shit, did that escalate.