NICOLETTE
After Carl shot Shane, Rick told both of them that it was best to head back to the house. They would explain what happened and then go retrieve Shane's body. It seemed like a solid plan, but one question lingered in Nicolette's mind: what had truly happened to Shane?
"You bit, too?" Carl asked as they walked toward the house, with Nicolette trailing behind him and Rick.
Rick appeared covered in blood, and as she studied him, she noticed he didn't look worn out or pale—just deeply shaken.
"No," he whispered, his voice shaky. Nicolette saw Carl nod in response.
"Shane was," Carl said, his voice heavy with sorrow. Nicki felt a pang of empathy for him. He loved Shane dearly. She had been fortunate enough to avoid such a harrowing ordeal herself, but the weight of it must have been unbearable for Carl.
"That wasn't Shane," Rick said after a moment of silence. "You know that."
Nicolette didn't believe that made it any easier. It had been hard for her too, witnessing Shane like that. Though he had acted erratically, they had shared so many moments together, and she remembered a time when he prioritized others over his own leadership. That Shane had saved many lives, including hers and her sister's. It felt strange to think he was no longer with them.
"Used to be," Carl replied, looking at his father. Nicolette's gaze dropped to the ground, her boots sinking into the grass. It was such a peaceful night, reminiscent of the one before, but now nothing felt serene.
"What happened?" Carl finally asked, breaking the silence, but Rick didn't answer. Nicolette sensed Carl's growing frustration. "You guys attacked?" He glanced at his father, but when there was no reply, he continued, "I mean... Nicki and I heard a gunshot, but I didn't see any walkers nearby."
Or people.
Shorty was smart and observant. Nicolette wondered if he shared her doubts: no walkers, no people, no Randall, just a single gunshot and Shane dead. She didn't like where her thoughts were leading her. She recalled the tension between Rick and Shane during their initial attempt to free Randall and the complicated history Shane had with Lori. She hoped she was wrong, but all she could envision was the two men—one turning against the other. Rick's strange behavior only fueled her unease.
"How did Shane die?" Carl asked directly this time, his voice steady yet laced with pain. Rick hesitated, troubled, and stopped to take a breath.
A sudden sound pulled Nicolette from her thoughts—a low growl. Her heart raced as she slowly turned, eyes widening in horror. Walkers were approaching, and there were far too many to count.
"Rick," she whispered, catching the man's attention.
"Oh my god," he said, pulling Carl closer and gesturing for Nicolette to move ahead. "Go, go!"
They sprinted toward a tree, trying to hide behind it.
"We gotta get to the house," Carl insisted. "Tell the others." Nicolette glanced over; Sarah was there, along with the others.
"There are too many," Nicki said, spotting more walkers emerging from the woods nearby. They were coming from every direction. "We won't make it to the house." Anxiety twisted in her stomach. She needed to help her sister, but how? They could easily get surrounded.
"We can't get through that. Can't go around," Rick said, and Nicolette felt despair wash over her. She couldn't help Sarah; there was nothing she could do but survive. They must have seen the walkers from inside—they had to know. She had to believe that.
"Carl, Nicolette," Rick said, pulling her back to focus. "We're going toward the barn. Stay close." Nicki forced herself to calm her nerves as they began to run alongside Rick and Carl. She had to make it. Sarah would never forgive her if she died here.
I'm not dying here, she thought fiercely. She wouldn't be eaten by those monsters.
The walkers were getting closer, just a few meters away as they ran.
"Stay close, Nicolette," Rick urged. She nodded, shifting to create more distance between herself and the advancing walkers. They were everywhere, pouring out of the woods.
They reached the barn, the walkers hot on their heels. Nicki spotted one approaching Rick and quickly drew an arrow from her back. Pulling the string until it brushed her lips, she aimed and released. A surge of pride flooded her as the walker dropped to the ground.
"Nicolette!" Rick called, urging her to move faster as they raced inside the barn. He slammed the door shut behind them.
"They're going to get in," Nicki said, hearing the walkers already banging against the wooden door. It wouldn't hold for long.
"We'll set the barn on fire," Rick said, rushing to grab two gas cans. "Carl, pour it on that side," he instructed, pointing to the right side of the barn. Nicki scanned the room; the walkers were now all around them.
"Nicki, go upstairs," Rick commanded. She nodded and hurried up the stairs.
"Carl, up here, hurry!" Rick called as she reached the top.
"What about you?" Carl asked, concern etched on his face.
"I'll be right there," Rick reassured him. "Drop the lighter when I say." He glanced up at Nicki, who leaned in to listen. "We'll stop some of them from reaching the house and distract them. At least we'll have a chance."
But how would the three of them escape the barn?
"You can do this," Rick said to Carl, locking eyes with him. "I love you."
Nicolette turned her gaze back to the door. Rick had to open it. Would he make it to the stairs? As she looked down again, Carl was starting to climb up, and Rick nodded at Nicki. She took a deep breath, nodding back, knowing what it meant: if anything happened, she would take Carl out of there.
At this point, Rick ran towards the door, while Nicki reached out a hand for Carl to grab. She helped him climb all the way up, and the two of them looked at each other. They were both terrified, surrounded by walkers, ready to put the barn on fire in the hope that Rick would make his way to them before the monsters got him.
Both of them turned to look down as they heard Rick bang on the door before throwing it open. Nicki let out a shaky breath as the walkers began to pour into the barn. There were so many—how could they survive this? Would they have been safer inside the house? The barn was sturdier, especially the doors, but even if they reached the house, what then?
Rick was luring as many walkers as he could inside before turning to start climbing up. A few walkers were close, but luckily Rick was faster. Nicki rushed to him as he reached the top, extending her hand to help him up.
"Carl, now!" he shouted, and Nicki saw Carl flick the lighter before dropping it down. It didn't take long for the barn to ignite. The straw caught fire quickly, and the clothes on the walkers ignited as well, but they remained, mindlessly reaching toward the three of them, feeling no pain—no fear.
A sound caught her attention.
"Do you hear that?" she said, turning toward the barn's opening. Gunfire erupted outside. Relief washed over her as she noticed the RV speeding toward them.
"Hey! Here!" Rick shouted, waving his hand. "Get in here!"
"Alright, come on!" Nicki urged Carl as the RV came to a stop. Rick went first, reaching out a hand for his son, then doing the same for Nicki as she climbed aboard. They barely had a moment to breathe before they raced toward the RV's stairs.
"I go first," Rick said, looking at both of them. "Don't be afraid." That was a lot to ask, but Nicki nodded, glancing around. The walkers were swarming; they couldn't take them all down. It was only a matter of time before they reached the house. There was no safety left there.
Nicki's jaw clenched. She wouldn't die like this. None of them would. She stepped toward the edge of the RV, determined to help Rick. As he climbed down, two walkers got too close. Rick shot one, but Nicki quickly dispatched the other with an arrow, giving him a nod just before he jumped to the ground.
"Go, Shorty," she said, not hesitating to shoot another arrow into another walker's head.
"You too!" Carl called as he descended. Nicki shot another arrow.
"I'll be right there," she promised.
She would not run away this time. She'd fight; no one was going to die on her watch. That was the promise she had made to Sophia.
"Nicolette!" Rick's voice brought her back to the moment. Carl was almost on the ground, so she began to climb down. Suddenly, she felt something brush against her leg. Looking to the side, she saw a group of walkers reaching for her, thwarted by the fence but still desperate to grab hold. Nicki kicked one rotten hand away and quickly jumped to the ground.
"Alright?" Carl asked, and she nodded, her heart racing as they started to run around the RV. But there was no use; more walkers were coming at them. A scream pierced the air from inside the RV, and blood splattered against the front windshield. Nicki gasped. Who was in there?
"We gotta go!" Rick shouted, but just then, she heard Carl yell her name.
"Nicki!" She turned to see two walkers rushing at her. Panic gripped her as she stepped back to avoid them, realizing she was separated from Rick and Carl. Rick shot one, but more surged between them.
"Nicki!" Carl cried again.
"Nicolette!" Rick shouted in unison. But there was no way she could reach them, so she took a deep breath, already regretting what she was about to say.
"Keep running!" she yelled, taking a few steps back, refusing to stay still. "I'll go around!"
"Nicki!" Carl's voice cracked with fear, but she shook her head, determination in her eyes.
"Just go!" she insisted. "Go!" She turned and bolted, doing everything she could to avoid the walkers and find a place to hide.
"Fucking things," she muttered, firing an arrow to clear her path, quickly retrieving it as she ran. She couldn't believe she was going to die like this—alone, wondering if her sister was safe, if her friends were okay. Hell, she even worried about the little shit.
Soon, she found herself surrounded by walkers, just a few feet away. They came from every direction. Taking a shaky breath, she readied another arrow. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't scream. She would take down as many walkers as she could. She aimed and released, again and again, but the more she shot down, the more emerged.
I'll be brave, she thought.
Suddenly, a car barreled through, plowing over the walkers in front of her. Her eyes widened as she recognized the vehicle—old, very old, and she knew exactly who was driving it.
"Sarah!"
"Get inside!" her sister yelled, firing from the window.