[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 299 - Recommending You a Good Place to Go

Michonne sheathed her blade. She didn't glance at the survivors still frozen on the ground. She just turned and walked.

To her, this was a cleanup on a whim. Like passing a filthy trash heap and flicking a match at it on the way by. Once it burned, you moved on.

Call it a good deed. A rare one.

"Wait!"

A rough voice at her back.

Tyreese pushed himself upright off the wall, his massive frame swaying with exhaustion. The claw hammer slipped from his grip and hit the floor with a heavy clank. He didn't pick it up. He just crossed the distance in long strides and planted himself in her path, arms spread wide.

"You — you saved us."

He was gasping. His broad, honest face held nothing but raw gratitude.

"We have to thank you."

Michonne stopped. She looked up at him. He had a head of height on her and twice the bulk. Her eyes were flat. Still. Not a flicker.

Thank you.

In this world, those were the two cheapest words left in the language. The most ridiculous.

She couldn't even be bothered to speak. She just cut her eyes sideways. Move.

Sasha came over too.

"Thank you." She clutched the straps of her deflated backpack. "We — we don't have anything to give you."

She dug through the bag for a long moment, then carefully held out a small, foil-wrapped piece of chocolate.

It had partly melted. There was a smear of grime on the wrapper. But in the apocalypse, that thing was worth no less than a diamond.

"It's all we have left."

Michonne's gaze traveled over the chocolate and settled on Sasha's eyes.

Sincere. Genuinely sincere.

Foolish, Michonne thought.

The kind of foolishness this world should have stripped to the bone long ago and left nothing behind.

Her throat moved.

She hadn't tasted something sweet in a very long time.

She liked sweet things. Always had. It was her weakness, if she was honest about it.

She hesitated a few seconds, then reached out and took it.

No thank you. She just peeled back the wrapper and pressed the soft, melted square into her mouth.

The sweetness hit her tongue like a small detonation. Rich and cloying and almost too much.

Damn.

Sweeter than she remembered.

Tyreese and Sasha both exhaled, their relief plain. The woman named Donna finally surfaced from her shock, crawling across the floor to wrap herself around Sasha's legs and sob.

Michonne didn't want to watch any more of this. She sidestepped Tyreese and kept walking.

"Where are you going?"

He followed. Like a shadow the size of a refrigerator.

"It's almost dark. It's too dangerous out there alone!"

"I'm used to it." She didn't look back.

"But we," His voice dropped, and something like pleading came into it. "We have nowhere to go. Our camp got overrun. We've been running for days."

Her steps slowed.

She didn't stop. But they slowed.

"Please." Donna's voice broke against her back. "Take us with you. We'll do anything, scavenging, night watch, anything. Please."

Michonne's jaw tightened.

She hated crying. She'd always hated it. It scraped at something she was working very hard to bury.

...

Night dropped over Macon.

Inside an abandoned clothing store, a small campfire crackled, pushing back the cold and the dark. It gave them the illusion of safety. Nothing more.

Michonne had claimed the darkest corner of the room. She sat with her back to the wall, eyes shut, both hands wrapped around the katana.

She hadn't walked away.

She'd softened. Again. Like she always did.

That big, stubborn fool Tyreese had managed it in the most shameless way possible, just kept standing there until she was tangled up in his group whether she wanted to be or not. She looked cold. She was cold. But somewhere underneath that, the softness kept finding its way out.

Across the room, Tyreese was working on the wound along Allen's arm, wrapping a bandage into a lopsided knot. Sasha sat nearby, rubbing down a gun barrel with a scrap of cloth. Donna was curled close to the fire like a spooked animal, saying nothing.

"Hey." Tyreese glanced toward her corner. "You really don't have a camp anywhere? Someone like you shouldn't be out here by yourself."

"Smaller target." Michonne opened her eyes.

"Easier to die alone, too." He shook his head and patted the bandage into place. "People like us have to stick together. Look out for each other. That's the only way any of us make it." He met her eyes. "Could you join us? Or, take us to your camp? We swear we won't be any trouble."

Michonne said nothing.

In the back of her mind, an image surfaced.

The prison. Leon's prison.

That place that looked like it could hold against anything.

That place that made her deeply uneasy, and that she couldn't stop thinking about no matter how hard she tried.

"We're really at the end of it." Sasha's voice was quiet, worn down to something raw. "Allen's leg is bad. Donna's barely holding together. No food. No medicine. If nothing changes, " She stopped. The rest didn't need saying.

"Please."

Donna raised her head. Her eyes were swollen red from crying, and in the firelight they looked wrecked.

Michonne felt the pulse hammering behind her temples.

She was sick of this. Sick of being looked at like she was the answer to something. She wanted solitude, eat alone, sleep alone, kill walkers alone. Clean. Efficient. Not responsible for anyone else's stupidity.

But.

She looked at those faces in the firelight. Every one of them carved with exhaustion and despair.

She let out a slow breath.

"I know a place."

The eyes around the fire went wide all at once, four pairs lighting up like cats catching a beam in the dark.

"It looks good." No emotion in her voice. Just fact. "High walls. Food. There were kids kicking a ball around."

"Oh God—" Donna pressed a hand over her mouth. "Is that real?"

"But." Michonne's tone shifted. Something in her eyes sharpened in the firelight. "I'm warning you now. Don't get any ideas you shouldn't have."

She looked at each of them in turn. The look was flat and cutting enough that none of them held it for long.

"I'm not telling you where it is."

"I'll take you to the gate." She said it slowly, one word at a time. "I'll watch you walk inside myself. So you can't go telling anyone else about it." A pause. "You know what people are like out there. This is just to keep everyone safe. A precaution."

"Then I leave."

The joy spreading across Tyreese's face stopped cold.

"You're not coming in?" Sasha asked. "That sounds like paradise."

The corner of Michonne's mouth pulled into something that wasn't quite a smile.

Paradise.

Maybe.

She stood, walked to the storefront window, a gaping hole where the glass used to be, and looked out at the street. A few shapes moved in the dark out there, slow and shambling.

"I've always done better alone."

She said it quietly. Almost to herself.

"Besides." Her eyes stayed on the figures outside.

"Those things out there can't hurt me."

➤ Next: Michonne Is Back Again