twd: the last silence

Chapter 37: The Departure

After weeks of building, structuring, and taming the chaos within the walls, Axel felt it.

It was time.

The village stood stronger than ever. Watchtowers never empty. The fields alive with growth. The walls reinforced like a fortress. People feared him. Obeyed him. Respected him—even if only in whispers born of terror.

Axel had laid the foundation.

Now, he needed answers.

---

He stood outside his room—what used to be tent was now a full room made of solid wood and steel.

He called Hank.

"I'll be gone for a while," Axel said calmly, not looking up from the paper he was scribbling on. "You and Redd are in charge."

Hank didn't ask where he was going.

He knew better.

Axel handed him the paper—a set of orders, precautions, and backup plans, just like always.

With that done, Axel geared up.

Black clothes.

Black jacket.

A small, durable bag slung across his back.

His katana sheathed cleanly.

A military knife strapped at his thigh.

And his revolver. Always the revolver.

He didn't choose a strong car. No, he picked a beat-up, rusty thing. One that would probably fall apart after a few hours of driving. That way, if something went wrong, they'd think he was weak. That was the point.

Axel was almost ready to leave.

---

Just before stepping into the car, someone approached.

Small footsteps.

Steady voice.

"Noah," Axel said without turning.

"Can I come with you?" the boy asked, his eyes calm, unreadable.

Axel didn't speak.

He stood there, still as stone.

The wind carried the tension between them.

And then—

"No," Axel said at first—sharp, cold, final.

He didn't even turn his head. He was staring at the road ahead, fingers brushing the steering wheel of the rusty, half-dead car he chose on purpose.

But the boy didn't leave.

Noah stood there, small and still, his blue eyes locked onto Axel like they could bore through the stone wall that was his silence. A ten-year-old boy with short black hair and a strange quiet about him. Not the loud kind of kid, not the annoying type either. Quiet in a way that was calm—too calm.

"I want to come," Noah said again, voice steady. "I want to help."

Axel sighed. Didn't answer. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, checking the cracked mirror, then slumped back into the seat again.

Noah didn't flinch. Didn't cry or whine like most kids would. He just kept talking.

"You said people should earn their place. I want to earn mine."

Another silence.

Then Noah said something that made Axel's fingers freeze on the wheel.

"You're not scared. But you're alone. I think that's worse."

Axel finally turned.

He looked at the boy—really looked. A full half-second passed. Then another. Then more.

And in that short moment, dozens of thoughts spun through Axel's mind like bullets through glass.

Scenarios.

If he brought the boy and they got ambushed—he'd slow Axel down.

If they found danger—he'd be a liability.

If they got captured—Axel would have to make a choice between saving himself or saving the kid.

But—

If he left him behind, the boy would never forget it.

If he left him behind, others might see that even Axel was afraid of putting a child through what he lived.

If he left him behind, he'd be sending the wrong message.

So Axel leaned back in the seat and muttered the two words that flipped the boy's face into pure light:

"…Let's go."

Noah beamed like the sun broke through the clouds. He rushed to the passenger seat and slid in, smiling wide as the door creaked shut beside him.

Axel didn't look at him. Just turned the key and the old car grumbled to life.

They were off.

---

The road was rough, broken by time and chaos. No other cars. No sign of life. Just wind, dead trees, and cracked asphalt.

Noah stared out the window, watching it all blur by. Axel kept his eyes forward.

"How far are we going?" the boy asked.

"Far."

"Why this car? It's falling apart."

Axel smirked. "That's the point."

Silence again, but it wasn't heavy. It was just… peaceful. Like the two understood there was no need for words unless they mattered.

---

Two hours passed.

The car was already coughing like an old man ready to die. Axel knew it wouldn't last. That was fine. He had his backup plan in the backseat, under the tools and blankets. The engine sputtered again, but he kept going.

"You ever kill someone?" Noah asked out of nowhere.

Axel didn't flinch. "Yeah."

"Was it hard?"

"No."

"First time?"

"…No."

Noah nodded like that made sense. Then he looked at his own hands—small, smooth, untouched by blood or war.

"Will I have to kill someone too?"

Axel's eyes stayed on the road.

"Maybe."

Noah didn't look scared. "I think I could… if I had to."

"You'll know when the time comes," Axel said softly.

Another silence. This one sat heavier.

Then—

"Why did you say yes?" Noah asked.

Axel didn't answer right away. He let the wind pass through the cracked window. Let the moment breathe.

Then he said, "Because you asked the right way."

---

They stopped for the night in a broken-down gas station at the edge of a forest. Axel checked the perimeter while Noah helped pull the blankets and food from the trunk.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

But that was normal now.

Inside the gas station, Axel sat against the wall, revolver in his lap, katana leaning by his side. Noah curled up next to the shelves, blanket over his legs.

"Axel?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think people are born bad?"

Axel looked at the boy. His blue eyes glowed in the dim moonlight slipping through the broken window.

"No."

"Then why do they do bad things?"

Axel sighed. "Because the world lets them."

Noah nodded again like he understood.

Like he was older than ten.

Like he'd already seen the worst of this world, and just needed someone to confirm it wasn't his fault for thinking that way.

---

That night, Axel didn't sleep.

He sat with one eye open, revolver in hand, blade within reach.

He wasn't afraid of dying.

He was afraid of letting the kid die.

And that feeling?

That was dangerous.

He thought he bury those feelings a long time ago but...

Maybe he didn't a good job at that

By morning, the car was in it last breath

Exactly as Axel expected.

They got in and drive away

The road ahead was dust and ruin

Axel with his weapon, Noah with his silence.

Side by side.

The boy never once slowed him down.

.

.

.

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