It had been several days, maybe weeks even, since the highway and the group had begun to establish some kind of normality. Chores had been created, boundaries established, and the fear was beginning to diminish just enough that the group had started to learn about each other.
Dale had the tools and a wise word when needed. Shane took on all of their wellbeing and safety on his shoulders, whether they asked him to or not. Amy was agreeable and could be very helpful when you told her exactly what to do. The Dixon brothers, well, just say thank you for the squirrel and steer clear.
Nora slathered on the last of her SPF 45. She had amassed several bottles of varying degrees of usefulness before leaving for Atlanta, so she had enough to last for a while, through the summer even. Still, if she was going to move down the SPF scale she was going to have to find a good hat.
The camp had been tanning up around her, and her fascination with sunscreen was a much enjoyed source of amusement. She just shrugged when asked why.
"I hate sunburns."
Jim was sitting out in front of the Winnebago, tools spread across the ground. She dragged a stump over and they acknowledged each other silently. He handed her screws, washers, or small bits and pieces and she wiped the dust from them or rubbed them with oil or simply held them until he needed them back.
This was another topic much whispered of in the camp, the odd relationship between Nora and Jim. As far as anyone knew they had not known one another before the camp was established, and yet the gangly mechanic with perpetual worry lines and the woman with lily white skin spent much of their time together in silence. They were perhaps the two people who spoke the least, and yet they seemed closer to one another than anyone else.
Daryl did not understand their connection any more than the next person, but he especially didn't understand her. While dressing a squirrel by the fire pit, he glanced over at her profile as she handed Jim a wrench.
The first night at camp, Nora had listened quietly to Daryl's infamous tale of his chupacabra sighting but had not commented as many others did. When people had begun serving up and tucking into their meal, however, she had settled on a log about two feet away from him with a plastic plate in her lap.
Nora did not say anything at first, then, without lifting her eyes from her food, said,
"Did it look like a dog?"
He had stared, feeling his shoulders tense. She had looked up at him for moment, and he suddenly understood what she meant. He chewed his food.
"Kinda."
Nora nodded and continued eating.
"What's it t'you?"
She had raised and lowered a shoulder.
"I heard somewhere that sometimes people say that they look like dogs, and other people say that they look like big lizards."
"You think I'm lying?"
"No."
And that had been the whole conversation. Daryl had been unsure if she was waiting for him to say something else, but he never did and neither did she. The pair of them had simply eaten and stared into the fire until she put out an open palm. He had furrowed his eyebrows until she pointed to his empty plate; he gave it to her and she had walked away to the basin without looking back.
"Hey. Nora!"
A small collection of people were going to find firewood.
"We could use some extra hands, if you don't mind!"
Jim gave her a small smile as she rose and walked to the fire pit. Daryl looked away when she headed his direction, trying to focus on cutting meat from bone. The firewood group contained both blonde sisters, the tall woman and the Asian kid, none of whom he considered actually able to protect themselves.
Hell, any of 'em would probably only make a situation worse 'fore they managed to fix anything.
Nora grabbed a basket on the opposite side of the pit.
"Hey."
She looked up. He held a baseball bat out by the round end, the handle towards her. For a brief moment their eyes met in silent understanding; he noticed that her's were large and brown with long dark lashes. Then she took the bat awkwardly in her hand and jogged away.
