Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing related to The Walking Dead. No copyright intended here.
Warning: This is rated M for language, gore, and suggestive themes.
Note: Jenna has trust issues. Give her time to grow out of the habit of being so jumpy. She'll get there.
"The past cannot be cured."
-Queen Elizabeth I
Safety in Numbers
Jenna snapped up suddenly in response to the sound of gunfire and had her own gun out and ready in the next moment. It was so close, they had to be right next to her. She'd distinctly heard three shots, one after another.
But as she looked around, her thoughts catching up with her thunderous heart, she began to ground herself back into reality. She was in a tent, Thao was sleeping in a red sleeping bag at her left, that nice girl, Dusty, sound asleep at her right. No one else was there. And, more to the point, those three gunshots had sounded exactly like the same gunshots she'd been hearing in her sleep for the past seven weeks.
Just a dream…nothing but a dream…
She fell back with a sigh, relaxing the grip she had on her Beretta, and worked on steadying her erratic breathing.
For the next hour or so, Jenna chanted that mantra over and over again in her head, willing herself to calm back down. Telling herself that she was safe, that Thao was safe, and that there was nothing to worry about. Because it was only a dream now, and nightmares couldn't hurt her.
Even so, her heart slowly steadied in response to the amount of time she spent lying there rather than because of her pointless mantra. Because it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory that she'd forced into the recesses of her mind, in the dark an hollow places where she kept everything else that haunted her. All the things that remained mostly dormant until she fell asleep, leaving her mind unguarded, allowing them to escape. Since they couldn't plague her conscious mind, they haunted her in her sleep.
The light of dawn was seeping into the tent through the seams, and Jenna knew it would only get brighter as time progressed. Not that she'd be able to sleep for a long while anyway.
Looking down at Thao, Jenna decided to let him sleep. He deserved it after that trek through the city. He'd been so brave the whole time, even when they'd had to escape down that alley when they'd returned to their car only to find it swarmed. He hadn't cried once. He'd just let her throw him over her shoulder in a fireman's carry while she ran through alleyways, running from the horde before it could spot them and searching for a safe place to stop and rest.
At least they'd had their backpacks on them while they'd stopped to scavenge—otherwise, they would've had to go the night without food or water, and all of Jenna's ammo would've been lost.
It had been a risk going into the city, but they'd needed the supplies. Back roads were safer when it came to avoiding the dead, but what they lacked in walkers, they made up for in an even more severe lack of supplies to pick from. There weren't many abandoned cars to pillage, and just about every gas station—which were few and far between—was burned down or had been thoroughly ransacked and overrun long before she'd made it there. Unfortunately, all of the supplies tended to reside in the most dangerous places—cities and other metropolitan areas.
Jenna smoothed Thao's hair back gently, so as not to wake him, and exited the tent, zipping the door closed after her.
It was barely dawn, so the amount of people up and about outside of their tents was minimal, which suited Jenna just fine. Sure, most of these people seemed genuinely nice and everything, but as far as she was concerned, it was all just an accident waiting to happen. This many people who were barely more than strangers living in such close quarters…tensions were already high with the state of the world as it was. Adding dense numbers to the mix couldn't have made things better.
More to the point, though—there were just too many men. There were enough women to keep Jenna from grabbing Thao and hightailing it out of there, but still, there were much more men than she would have liked.
The fact was, when it came to men she didn't know, she'd learned to avoid them at all costs and attack when avoidance wasn't possible. Better to attack them before they got the chance to attack her. But here, she was greatly outnumbered. There were too many of them to keep track of at once, and it had her strung tighter than guitar strings.
It's only temporary, she reminded herself. She'd see about a map, locating possible means of transportation, and then she and Thao would be on their way.
On her way back from collecting the laundry she and Dusty had hung the day before, she spotted Daryl sitting outside of the tent he shared with his brother, wiping down his crossbow. It was a nice bow, that was for sure, though Jenna highly doubted whether she could string it.
"Nice Horton," she said as she made to pass his tent. She couldn't help it. The thing was just so…badass.
His eyes rose to meet hers briefly before turning back down to his weapon, adding arrows to it. "Ever shoot one before?" he asked.
"Not a crossbow," she replied honestly. "Just my dad's compact bow. Bear Empire."
"City man liked to hunt?" he asked doubtfully.
She smirked slightly. "On the weekends whenever he had the chance," she said honestly. "But he preferred his Winchester to the Empire. He wasn't much of a bowman," she recalled fondly, a subtle ache in her chest for the memory of her lost father.
"Well, if it ain't little Miss Man," chortled a gravelly voice as the tent door swung open.
Merle stepped out, giving Jenna an appreciative smile, and Jenna considered walking away while she still had the chance. One Dixon brother wasn't bad, but two—that was more than she'd bargained for. But, to be honest, she couldn't see Daryl doing anything to hurt her, and she made the assumption that as long as she wasn't alone with Merle, she'd be alright. She had the impression that he was more bark than bite anyway.
"How's about a big hug for your good pal Merle, hm?" he suggested mockingly, spreading his arms out.
"No, I'm good, thanks," she said, caught somewhere between amusement and caution.
"Take it or leave it, sugar-tits," he said, making her raise an eyebrow. "I'm headin into the city today, an' I might be willin to bring ya back somethin special, if you're willin to pay up," he finished suggestively, giving her a leer.
Daryl spat out a breath of annoyance, shaking his head and grumbling to himself while he made adjustments to his Horton.
But, Merle's suggestion did give Jenna an idea.
"Well, since you offered, what do you say to bringing me back a car?" she asked. One thing she hadn't learned was how to hotwire the damn things. "And you can have these."
She pulled the box of Marlboro cigarettes from her back pocket, giving them a little wave. The man looked tempted, but she knew he wasn't done bartering—purely for the sake of harassing her, no doubt.
"Couldn't get one yourself down in the big city, Miss Auto Queen?" he taunted.
"I can fix them sometimes, but I can't hotwire them," she explained wryly. "That's where you come in, good sir."
Merle didn't seem to know whether to be amused or not, and Jenna was having a hard time getting a gauge on his mood. He was one difficult man to read, that much she was sure of.
"What's in it for me, sugar-tits?" he asked then.
"You mean besides all twenty Marlboro Reds here?" she asked, giving the full pack another little wave. "Nothing, but I can take my business elsewhere, I guess."
With that, she stuffed the pack into her pocket again and turned to be on her way.
"Now hold on a minute there," he said, and she stifled her smirk as she turned around again, raising an eyebrow inquiringly. "Toss me a few from that pack ya got there, an' I'll think about it," he offered, gesturing to the pack impatiently.
She considered that, weighing her options. "How about one to think about it," she said tossing him one cigarette, "and you'll get the other nineteen if you bring me back a car."
He let out a breath of laughter, twirling the cigarette between his fingers. "Anythin specific you're lookin for?" he asked sarcastically.
"Anything small, and preferably with all windows intact," she said simply.
"I'll see what I can do," he said, and she nodded, turning to walk away again. "Hey, sugar-tits," he called, making her stop and turn around again, not letting herself bristle in response to the nickname. "You got a light, honey?" he asked, holding the cigarette up.
Her first inclination was to tell him no, not wanting to get near him or prolong this little interaction. But, she wanted a car, and if playing nice was what she had to do, then she'd do it. She hesitated, torn between tossing him her lighter and risking the chance of him deciding to keep it for good, and not wanting to step closer to him. Well, they were out in the open, with other living people well within screaming distance…
"Yeah," she said eventually, pulling the zippo lighter from her pocket and flicking the top back.
She stepped forward, against her better instincts, and lit the cigarette for him, snapping it shut and retreating backward as soon as possible.
"Everythin alright here?" asked a gruff voice from behind her.
Her heart skyrocketed and she spun around, spotting Shane just a couple yards away. Definitely not liking her placement—two men behind her, one man before her—Jenna sidestepped and turned casually so that all three of them were now in front of her.
"Jus' chattin with Miss Mighty Mouse here," Merle said in a mockingly pleasant voice, obviously having noticed the Mighty Mouse tattoo on her right forearm. "You makin house calls, sheriff?"
Shane just shot Merle a quick glare before turning his gaze to Jenna. "Everythin cool?" he asked her instead.
She nodded, willing herself to relax and speak casually. "Yeah. Just making a deal with the good sir," she said, shrugging, and waved a hand in Merle's direction.
Shane raised an inquiring brow at her, and then turned his head in response to the honk of the horn down at the other end of camp, where the others who were apparently heading out were ready to go.
"Chariot awaits," chuckled Merle, slinging his scoped Winchester over his shoulder. "Don't fuck up the hunt, little brother," he said to Daryl over his shoulder as he strode away.
Daryl spat out another annoyed breath, muttering something that sounded like "fucker" under his breath, before stalking off in the other direction to head out for his hunt. Jenna watched him go, wondering how in the hell the two of them managed to share a tent without murdering each other every night.
"You always pick the worst of the bunch to chat with?" Shane asked her when they were both a distance away from them.
She smirked wryly, not bothering to elaborate that she didn't make a habit of spending time in bunches. "Not really," she said simply. "Just figured good old Merle would be the best man for the job."
"What job is that?" Shane inquired, somewhat amusedly.
"Hotwiring me a car," she replied.
He nodded, mulling that over. "Headin out soon, huh?" he assumed. She nodded. "This place ain't exactly your cup o' tea, is it?"
She smirked again. "All of you have been really nice and everything, and I'm really grateful for all that you guys have done for Thao and I," she said sincerely, meeting his gaze. "But…we do better on our own."
He seemed to contemplate that before giving her a little half nod. "If that's what you think's best," he said, and something about his tone told her that he thought otherwise.
He reached out, giving her shoulder a light clap, before heading off in the direction of the camp's center, having absolutely no idea just how much he'd scared the hell out of her by doing so. The unexpected touch, innocent as it was, had her heart pounding out an erratic rhythm—and she doubted if he'd noticed, but as soon as his hand made contact with her shoulder, her entire body had tensed up automatically.
She stood there for a few moments, trying to get a hold of herself. He wasn't going to hurt me…there's nothing to be afraid of…
"Hey," called a newly familiar voice, snapping her out of it. She turned to see Dusty approaching, hands in her pockets, the picture of ease. "You already got the laundry? Thanks," she gushed, taking her clothes from the bundle in Jenna's arms.
"Yeah, no problem," said Jenna, still working on collecting herself.
Dusty turned her gaze toward where Shane had walked off. "You talkin to Shane?" she inquired, and Jenna nodded. "Man don't know how to button up a shirt properly—Lord knows we thank him for it," she said with a cheeky little smirk.
Jenna managed a snort of laughter as they set off toward the tent to put their clothes away. Dusty was a sweetheart, and someone Jenna could really see herself getting along with. But she needed to get out of there. There were too many people who were likely to get a little too close, and as harmless as their intentions may be, Jenna was just not willing to risk it. Nor was she willing to deal with the god-awful shaky mess she turned into whenever anyone got a little too close.
She'd made the mistake of letting her guard down too many times before, and she'd paid the price for it. The scar on her torso was just a visual reminder of what could happen when she let people get too close.
She'd made that mistake. She'd paid the price. And she didn't have any more to offer as payment, so it was better to avoid having to do so. Because numbers didn't necessarily mean safety, and she would rather go it alone.