Chapter Text
Nic knew that traveling from the outskirts of New York to Washington State was going to be a long and stressful journey in itself. A trip that should’ve taken her hours took her weeks. Nic was roughly a month and a half into the end of the world. While she did have a generous supply from having prepared for ‘doomsday,’ she hadn’t updated her supply in quite some time due to being away in Europe for the last six months.
With the added factors of the dead walking around trying to take a bite of her, plus the looters or thieves that wished her harm, it made the trip almost unbearable. If she weren’t already going to Georgia herself after this, she would have insisted that Samara (her half-sister) get herself to her mother's house. But that was a lie, one that she herself couldn’t even say aloud. Not only did she not trust Samara to get herself and Tyler there without fail, Nic knew firsthand what the world had turned into now. If she had thought it was bad before, the lack of authority and laws had made it much worse. And they were only a few weeks in.
But she had made it; after having to siphon gas from car after car and kill a total of 78 of the dead and protect herself from several of the living, she had made it to Spokane. She felt stiff in her shoulders and legs, half dead on her feet since she hadn’t gotten even four hours of sleep. Her clothes were dirty, as was the skin underneath. It didn’t help that her attire was oddly layered. With her dressed as a man, her chest was wrapped in old scarves and gauze in order to hide the swell of her breasts. Nic had shaved all of her hair off before hitting the road, knowing that the 4c texture deserved the routine she made for it but would no longer be able to uphold. It grew back fast and was now a tiny soft black afro with a good five inches above her scalp. Covered with a generic black baseball cap. Her features were covered with the help of a black medical mask, which she had in bulk in the bed of her truck. Nic was gifted with her father's height, which almost always put her at or above the height of all men she encountered, and with the help of her platform boots, she had an even bigger advantage.
And somehow, with all this going for her, she still felt anxious. The more the days passed, the more she got closer and closer to her destination and goal, her stomach tied into tighter knots. She hadn’t even been able to eat dinner the night before or breakfast earlier that day. Faintly she wondered if it was just her old pal ‘paranoia’ bubbling up in her chest from the depths she had shoved it down. Another part of her thought it was nerves of seeing Tyler again after so many years.
Nic had never really been a people person. Not really, not truly, and honestly. She hadn’t ever been shy, for she had the tendency to be overly sure of herself. She knew her strengths and her weaknesses and played with them throughout her life to make sure she came out on top. People hadn’t been a weakness for her per se, just a rather unwanted part of her daily life. Her father taught her how to get over that, ‘People need people, buttercup. That's just life, but you and me, we’re different. And people don’t like different. So you need to learn to be like them.’ That’s another thing that stuck with her, faking it until she made it—creating unnecessary bonds with people to fit in. It worked for the most part, but if there was one person she had trouble with, it was her half-sister Samara. Samara came into Nic’s life when she had just begun high school. She had been a love child of one of her father's earlier mistresses in life. And she was only a few months shy of Nic. This baffled Josephine, her mother, and Andre’s wife because they had been married for years before even Nic had arrived.
And no, it wasn’t the fact that she was no longer an only child that caused her distaste for her sister. Nor was it the fact they shared some DNA and not all. Nic simply just wasn’t a fan from the very beginning.
The two Reynolds women were simply just not the same in any way, at least through Nic's eyes. Nic found that Samara was handed everything from the get-go; she was treated nicer, and fairer, Given things and chances that Nic couldn’t even think of asking for. One might call it jealousy like Samara had when she worked up the nerve at eighteen to attempt to call Nic out for her dislike. But then they’d get punched in the face much like Samara did at eighteen when she had worked up the courage to say it. Samara was just a mess, and Nic didn’t like messes, but her mother was right at the end of the day. Like always, they were technically family, even if they only shared half of the same DNA.
Tyler was different, however, not because he wasn’t really Samra’s, but because they had just clicked even though she hadn’t been around when he was being raised. When she saw him for Christmas and whenever Josephine would guilt her into coming home. They had this connection, one that led others to believe they were anti-social when they were actually just silently observant. However, that being said, it had been years since their last encounter, both due to his appearance and her travels abroad; Nic had still made time to send presents to Tyler and Tyler alone, but she never got a phone call. Or a letter back.
At this point, she felt silly for feeling even a smidge of nerves as she stood on the porch of a house in what looked to be an abandoned neighborhood. The streets of this small suburb looked deserted and trashed. There was not even a single animal in sight as she made her way down the roads, only dead bodies and their stench.
Nic gnawed on the corner of her lip, tugging and pulling at the skin there and grimacing when she felt the sting of the scab reopening. Nic removed the black mask, tugged the healing skin off, and let her tongue press against the wound as she lifted her hand to the door, giving three solid knocks.
Turning her head to the side, she could hear shuffling and voices faintly in the back before a loud ‘shush!’ erupted. Nic rolled her eyes and knocked again, and checked her surroundings once more before speaking. “Samara? Tyler? It’s Nic.” She heard the shuffling again and then more harsh whispers before someone cleared their throat.
“How do we know it’s really you?” Someone-possibly Tyler, with a semi-deeper voice, asked. Nic let out an amused huff from her nose but rolled her eyes, looking unamused as she stared at the peephole.
“If it wasn’t me, how would I know your name and Samaras?” She asked with a shake of her head, and there was a pause and more whispering. “Tyler, I am very tired, and it’s hot out here; just open the door. Now please.” She heard some grumbling before the locks started to shift and unlock, allowing her entrance into the home of her estranged family.
The first thing she saw was Tyler; he stood up just below her shoulder, and his skin, like hers, was a dark maple color. His hair was a mess of locs, unkempt, matted, and she could tell it was dry as a bone from where she stood. Nic knew he had gotten to this state with a lack of care. He wore a stained light grey t-shirt that he was swimming in and stained washed-out blue jeans that were folded twice at the waist, and holey socks that should’ve been thrown away several washes ago. And his eyes; Nic struggled to swallow because those were her eyes.
“Whoa…” Tyler said, snapping her out of her trance. He slowly shook his head as he eyed her. “You don’t look like my aunt.” He said slowly as he narrowed his eyes at her.
Nic wanted to speak, even opened her mouth to do so, but was cut off by a shorter girl that came from behind Tyler. “You don’t look like a girl at all.” The little girl said. She was chubby, with a little bit of a lighter skin tone than Nic and Tyler’s, with an obvious case of vitiligo as there were circles of pale pink skin over her left eye and around her neck and hands, which were holding onto a dirty and half-falling-apart stuffed elephant. She surprisingly had auburn hair that was also just as messy, the loose curls falling to the middle of her back. And she had dark green eyes that stood out against the contrast of her skin.
Nic was amused or would’ve been, if she wasn’t already annoyed by the fact Tyler and this other child were the ones to open the door, including the fact that they seemed alone and unarmed. She stepped forward, causing the two to move backward. “Where is Samara?”
“She’s sleeping,” Tyer said quickly while Nic looked around the house. It was a mess; there was trash lining the walls of the house. Clothes were strewn around the carpeted floor, which had a questionable amount of colorful stains. “If you’re really my aunt, what's your full name?”
“Nicollet Marie Reynolds. Yours is Tyler Jamahal James; your mother is Sarama Grace James.” Nic spouted off as she continued through the house. The two children followed behind her, though Tyler ran back to the door to close and lock it tight.
“Oh! Do me, do me!” The little girl said, rocking side to side as she clapped or tried to while still holding onto the stuffed elephant.
Nic glanced down at the girl and gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” She admitted to the girl.
This did not stop the girl's movements as she repeated the swaying movements. “My name is Griffin Louise James. I’m nine years old, my brother is Tyler, and he’s 15, and my mother is Samara. I have purple and pink hearing aids, but I wanted green ones. We used to have five fish, but they all died three hundred and forty-seven hours ago.” She told her, and she looked like she was only taking a breath so she could continue, so Nic stopped her.
“Where is your mother's room?” She interrupted.
“It’s down the half to the right,” Tyler answered her. “But she doesn’t like to be woken up,” Tyler warned her before he started to herd Griffin toward the living room. Nic watched them both for a moment; how old Tyler looked at just 14 as he took care of his sister, letting her drink what looked like the last gulp of water from a crushed plastic bottle.
Nic brought her hand to her face, rubbing it roughly before she followed the directions the boy had given her. When she made it to the bedroom door, she didn’t have the patience to wait and opened the door without knocking. The room was pitch black; instinctively, she went for the light switch to find it did nothing. Nic’s nose curled up at the sour smell that hit her face upon passing the threshold. It was slightly more intense than the smell that hit her when she first entered the house. She unhooked a flashlight from her belt and turned it out. The bright white light engulfed the whole room as she walked in. The room was less dirty than the rest of the house. And Nic came to an abrupt stop when her foot hit something. She looked down and saw a full case of water just lying there. The biting feeling of anger mixed with her blood as she stepped over it and into the room. She made her way to the bed and ripped the covers off in one swift movement.
Samara gasped and shot up, her eyes closing and repeatedly opening before she squinted in the beam of Nic’s flashlight. “What the fuck, are you the cops? Fucking finally.” Samara said her voice was not soft; it was harsh and rough after years of smoking, having started at a young age.
“No, dumbass, it’s me.” Nic grunted out, shining the light towards the ceiling so it lit up the room, with her in it, and not just Samara'sannoyed facial expression. “Get the fuck up, Sam.” Nic said, stepping back.
“How the fuck did you get in my house?” Samara said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was in a pink floral nightgown, her hair in a large green bonnet. She looked just like Griffen, with light brown skin and green eyes.
“Your unattended kids, let me in.” She told her, unimpressed as Samara rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“And you’re here because?” Sama had the nerve to ask, and Nic felt her hand twitch in annoyance, so she took a step or two back from the woman.
“Mom told me to pick you and Tyler up. Imagine my surprise when I found out you had another kid with you.” She said in a flase bored tone.
Samara didn’t take the bait as she stood and stretched, walking over to what apparently was a window as she drew back the curtains letting light in. Nic began chewing on the corner of her lip again when he noticed the stack of canned food, some eaten and empty, others untouched by the walls, along with two other cases of water.
“How’d you get all this?” Nic asked, gesturing around with her flashlight as she flicked it off.
“Jackson got it for us.” Samara stated as if it was obvious.
“Who is Jackson?”
“My finance.” She answered. “He’d go out and get stuff, bring it back every now and again. Haven’t seen him in a few days, though. I think he dipped. Or got eaten.” She said nonchalantly as she shimmied into her jeans. “Guess it’s a good thing you showed up, huh?” She snorted, and Nic rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Yeah, I guess. You all need baths badly; we’ll go down to the lake, get washed up, then hit the road. You also will need to cut your hair, wrap yourself u-”
“No thanks, I’m not into cross-dressing,” Samara told her.
“It’s for your own good. You and Griffin-”
“Griffin? God, that girl, her name is not Griffin. It is Ashley.” Samara said as she swung around to face her. “That is the name I gave her, and that is the name you will call her, got it?”
Nic blew out the air from her nose as she squinted at her sister. “Don’t get snippy with me; I’m just calling her what she told me her name was.”
“Oh, and I bet Tyler didn’t have a peep to say about it in correction, huh? God, I swear that boy is so disobedient.” She grumbled as she through on what looked to be a crop top.
Nic rubbed her hand down her face again, “Samara, that is not appropriate attire; what the hell is wrong with you? Do you even know what's going on? Have you been outside?”
Samara rolled her eyes as she tore her bonnet off and looked into her vanity mirror. “Yes, I am aware of what’s happening. I was at work when everything went to shit. My boss told me to go home, and when I got here, Tyler came in with Ashley a few hours later. We haven’t left the house since. Not even when they started bombing Seattle.” She told her as she rolled on a tub of lip gloss.
“You haven’t left the house in over two months? Do you know how insane that is? Haven’t you or Tyler killed one of those things yet?” She asked her, and Samara made a face of disgust.
“Hell no. That was what Jackson was for until he went and left or got killed, whichever one. We never needed to leave; we’ve got everything here.” She told her with a shrug.
“What about power? What were you gonna do when you ran out of water a food?” She asked in shock at her half-sister's ignorance and selfishness. Though she supposed it shouldn’t have come as a shock at all, this was Samara at her finest, just in a new theme. Apocalypse.
“Well, I was gonna send Tyler-”
“To get killed? God, you know what, sometimes I forget just how stupid-”
“Mom?” Both women turned to see Tyler standing at the door; in the brighter light, Nic could take notice of his sunken eyes and chapped lips. She bent down, took a bottle of water from the case closest to her, and handed it o the boy. His eye slit up, and he snatched it from her, untwisting the cap and chugging.
“Slow down, or you’ll throw it all up.” She told him, and he stopped before following her instructions. When he was finished, she spoke again. “Okay, Tyler, listen carefully. You, me, Sam, and your sister are going to take a trip to Georgia.”
“To see Grandma Jo?” Tyler said, confused.
Nic smiled and nodded. “Yeah, Grandma Jo, it’s going to be a long trip-”
“Wait, we’re leaving the house?” Tyler stuttered as his eyes went wide. “We can’t leave the house; Jackson said it wasn’t safe, that we wouldn't survive.”
Nic nodded quickly as she watched the boy start to panic. “Hey, Tyler, calm down, okay? Deep breaths.” She told the boy and took deep breaths too to demonstrate; she didn’t stop until he copied her a few times. She went to put her hand on his shoulder but stopped herself. “I,” She vegan, but stopped and started again. “It is dangerous out there. Very dangerous. There are bad things out there and even worse people. But I am going to teach you to survive, okay? I’m going to teach you and your sister everything so you won't ever have to be afraid, okay?” She told him, her eyes never straying from his.
Tyler swallowed his chin, quivering, before he clenched his jaw and nodded. “Okay.”
“Good, now we need to get you and Griffin-”
“Ashley.” Samara butted in from her closet.
Nic inhaled before continuing. “-packed, and get all these cans of food and water onto the car. Then we’re going to go to the lake, get cleaned, and head down to Georgia. It’s gonna be a long drive. Do you think you’ll be able to help me?”
Tyler nodded quickly, a new spark seeming to twinkle in his eyes as he clenched his fists at his side. “Yeah, I can help you. I want to learn how to survive.”
Nic smiled forcefully immediately after but nodded nonetheless. In a perfect world, this conversation would never happen. In a perfect world, the dead wouldn't be walking around. In a perfect world, a lot of things would be different, but most importantly, in a perfect world, she wouldn't have to teach her estranged son, or any child, how to survive the apocalypse. But the world had never been perfect.