The Walking dead- Marcel Cross

Chapter 7

Back at the motel

Lee stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with that same conflicted knot in his chest he'd been carrying for weeks now.

Kenny was elbow-deep in the RV's engine compartment, grease stains creeping up his forearms, jaw clenched tight. The Florida man had been working on that rusted old thing ever since they stumbled onto it. For a while, it was all arguments and second guesses — whether they even needed it, whether it was worth the time, the noise, the fuel.

But finding that damn battery? That changed things.

A small stroke of luck in a world fresh out of it.

"Think you can actually get it up and running?" Carley asked, stepping closer, her voice cutting through the quiet. Her tone wasn't biting — not today — just… tired. Curious. The same way everyone was. Tired of standing still. Tired of waiting for the world to fall in on them again.

Kenny wiped his hands on a rag, glancing toward her. "Don't know," he admitted, adjusting the brim of his cap. His voice was rough, worn thin like everything else. "But it's our best shot. You seen the roads out there? Walkers everywhere. We stay here much longer, we' re sitting' ducks."

Lee shifted his weight, looking toward the motel lot. The walls of the place felt like security at first. But now? They were a cage. A cage with cracks already showing.

"I just hope it's not false hope," Carley muttered, eyes flicking toward the horizon where the sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows across the lot.

"It ain't," Kenny shot back, more forceful this time. That familiar edge creeping into his voice. "I get this thing runnin', we got a shot — a real shot — at getting' outta here. Maybe head north. Somewhere with fewer walkers. Somewhere… different."

Lee didn't argue. Not yet. They'd been down this road before — debates, plans, all of it could fall apart the second the wrong person panicked or the wrong walker stumbled into camp.

But a working RV? That was hard to ignore.

Lee finally spoke, voice low but steady. "If it runs, we leave. But we don't leave anyone behind. Not unless we got no choice."

Kenny gave a small nod, eyes serious now. "Agreed."

Carley's gaze lingered on the RV a moment longer, then drifted to Lee. "I'll believe it when I hear the engine turn over."

And with that, she walked off.

Glancing over toward Clementine, seated cross-legged by the steps of the motel office, Lee's expression softened just a little.

She was flipping through a tattered picture book, the pages bent, the cover worn — but the colors still clung to the paper, a tiny spark of the old world. Her lips moved silently as she traced the words, eyebrows furrowed in focus.

Katjaa sat nearby, gently coaxing Duck to sit still. It wasn't working, not really — Duck kept fidgeting, bouncing on his heels, his energy unshaken by the world falling apart around them. But Katjaa's patience never cracked. Soft, steady words in her native tongue, calming him best she could.

Kenny followed Lee's gaze, then let out a long, weary breath. The edge in his voice softened, replaced by something heavier. Something real.

"Y'know," Kenny started, dragging the rag across his hands again, "sometimes I look at 'em and… it almost feels normal. Clem with her books, Kat talkin' to Duck. Just… quiet. Like we're still at home. Before all this."

Lee didn't answer right away. He watched Clem flip the page, her small fingers tracing a cartoon bear. The late afternoon sun dipped lower, casting orange streaks across the concrete lot, bleeding into shadows stretching along the walls.

"Yeah," Lee finally muttered, voice low. "Almost."

But that's all it was. Almost.

Lee walks over to clementine.

"I'm thought you finished that already"

Clementine not sure what else to say

"I did, it's just... I'm"

Lee tries to help bend down on one knee and layer a hand on her shoulder "what's wrong" with a deep and concerned tone.

Clementine leans in closer to Lee's ear and whispers "duck keeps asking me to play, but when I have this he doesn't, cool right?"

A small, quiet smile tugged at the corner of Lee's mouth as Clementine leaned back, her eyes bright with that secretive, proud look only a kid could have.

"Yeah," Lee whispered, glancing at the worn picture book in her lap. "Real cool."

Clementine hugged the book a little closer to her chest, her small shoulders relaxing. For a second, the motel, the walkers, the endless worry — it all faded. It was just her and Lee, like nothing bad could reach them as long as they stayed in that little bubble.

Lee gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You ever wanna stop reading' and just… be a kid for a while, that's okay too, you know."

Clementine's eyes flicked toward Duck in the distance — bouncing around, badgering Katjaa with questions — then back to Lee. "Maybe later," she said, a tiny, sly smile forming on her lips.

Lee chuckled under his breath. "Fair enough."

As he stood, the moment of peace slipped away just as quickly as it came. His eyes swept the perimeter again, the rusting cars, the crumbling walls of the motel, the long shadows creeping in as the sun sank lower. The RV still sat there, half-fixed, the closest thing they had to an escape. Kenny was already elbow-deep in wires again, muttering to himself.

It wasn't perfect.

But it was something.

Lee ruffled Clementine's hair gently. "Stay close, alright?"

She nodded, flipping her book open again, that little smile lingering.

___________________________

Elsewhere

Spark! Spark! … Vroommm!

"Hah! You got it!" Sarah jumped in excitement, her eyes wide as the engine sputtered, then roared to life.

The old station wagon coughed smoke from its tailpipe, but the rumble held — rough, uneven, but alive.

Marcel slid out from beneath the car, wrench in hand, sweat streaking the side of his dirt-smudged face. He blinked up at the running vehicle with a slow, cautious pride.

"Told you," he muttered, brushing off his gloves. "Takes finesse. Not brute force."

Sarah grinned, practically bouncing on her toes. "Still! You fixed it! That's something, right?"

"It's not gonna win any races," marcel warned, eyeing the vehicle. "But it'll get us moving — and moving's better than waiting around for another horde to show."

His eyes drifted toward the city's crumbling skyline in the distance, then down the road, toward the stretch that led to the motel.

"you think he's still alive?" marcel asked, more quietly now.

Sarah didn't answer right away. The engine growled behind them, idling like some caged animal waiting to bolt.

" maybe."