Chapter Text
Day 94
The world’s still shitty, what a surprise. Anyways, today is just like every day. I wake up in our cramped ass tent and get to work.
Though today I woke up too late because Glenn and the others were already gone. There goes trying to do something useful for the group. Anyway, I’m probably just gonna go fishing with Amy down by the lake again.
On the bright side Kate’s been happier recently. It’s probably because of the kids in the group. Sophia and…
I stop writing for a second trying to remember the boy's name. After 30 seconds I give up.
…And Lori and Shane’s son, whatever his name is. She’s been happier around them. I’m glad, especially after what happened to mom and da-
“Hey.” Her voice completely broke my concentration.
“Huh?” I look up and I see Amy there.
“You ready to go?” She asks me.
“What?”
“To the lake, dimwit.”
“Oh, yeah. Just give me a minute.” She nodded then started walking down to the lake. I watch her walk for a second before looking for Kate with my eyes. When I found her she was running around with Sophia and… What was it?... Oh, yeah, Carl. Sophia and Carl. I yell out for her. “Hey, Kate!”
“Yeah?!” She stopped running for a second.
“Stay with Sophia and Carl, okay?”
“Okay.” She started to run off again.
“And stay within Dale’s sight!” I don’t know if she heard me, but even if she didn’t she knows the drill by now. I grab my stuff and start to walk down to the lake where Amy went.
“Alright son, it’s about time I teach you how to fish. My father would've had my ass in a boat at your age.” My father told me.
“But it seems so… boring.” I responded.
“It is,” my father said with a straight face. “But when it’s about putting food on the table, it's worth it. Come on, Zach. Hand me the bait and we’ll get started.”
My father taught me to fish when I was 13 years old and it’s one of the things I’m so fucking glad he taught me how to do. Without this skill, I’d be completely fucking useless to the group. And I’d hate that. I hate feeling powerless, useless, worthless…
“Get your ass in the boat before I leave you on the shore!” Amy called out to me, breaking my concentration for the second time today.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I walk over to the boat and climb in and set down the fishing poles and bait I brought down. Amy pushes us off the shore and she paddles us out to the middle of the lake while I get the poles set up for us to catch fish for the camp.
Once we’re out in the lake, I hand her a fishing rod and she casts it out into the water. I then do so myself. And then, it's a waiting game. My brain wanders again, back to my dad. When he first brought me fishing, to my first day of college, to the day he and mom…
“I can’t just sit here in silence the whole time.” Amy says breaking the awkward silence that formed between the two of us.
“So what do you want to talk about then?” I respond dryly.
“Woah, you really are an asshole recently. What’s got your panties in a twist?” She says as she stares back into the water.
“For your information, I’m not an asshole. I’m just… focused that’s all.” I keep looking ahead at the water.
Amy snorts. “Yeah, okay. You’ve been focused for like three days straight.”
The bobber bobs once. Then again. Nothing bites.
She sighs and leans back in the boat, letting it rock slightly. “You know, most people get grumpy when they’re tired. Or hungry. Or scared.”
I say nothing.
“Or,” she continues, softer now, “when they’ve lost people.”
That does it. My jaw tightens.
The lake is calm, stupidly calm. Like the world didn’t end three months ago. Like I’m not stuck protecting my little sister, pretending I know what I’m doing.
“My dad used to bring me out here,” I say before I can stop myself. “Not this lake. Just… fishing in general. He said it was about patience.”
Amy turns her head, actually looking at me now. “Was he good at it?”
“He was annoying about it,” I huff quietly. “Wouldn’t shut up about knots and bait and how if I rushed it I’d scare the fish away.”
She smiles a little. Not teasing. Just warm. “Sounds just like my dad.”
I swallow.
“He taught me because he said one day I might need it,” I go on. “Didn’t think he meant this.” I gesture vaguely at the camp behind us, the tents, the smoke from the fire. “Didn’t think I’d be using it so my sister doesn’t starve.”
Amy doesn’t interrupt. She just listens, eyes on the water again.
“That’s not nothing, you know,” she says after a moment. “What you’re doing.”
“I don’t really get a choice.”
She shrugs. “Still counts.”
The boat rocks again when she shifts closer, careful not to tip us. Our lines drift parallel now.
“My sister’s kind of the same,” she says quietly. “Andrea. She pretends she’s fine. But I know she’s terrified.”
I glance at her. “You don’t look terrified.”
“That’s because I’m great at lying,” she says dryly, then adds, “and because sitting here feels… normal. I like that.”
I nod. “I do too.”
There’s a tug on my line.
I sit up instantly. “Hey—”
Amy grins. “Told you patience mattered.”
I reel it in, careful, hands steady like my dad taught me. When the fish finally breaks the surface, flopping and silver in the sunlight, Amy laughs — a real laugh — and for just a second the world doesn’t feel so heavy.
She bumps her shoulder lightly against mine. “See? Useful.”
I exhale, something in my chest loosening just a bit.
“Yeah,” I say. “Guess I am.”