A/N: I know I said I was confident that Daryl would be in the third chapter... but apparently I was wrong and it took waaay longer than I anticipated to get this all worked out. Sorry! But I promise, not even I can delay his arrival next chapter! Hope y'all enjoy as always! Drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you!
"Charlie…" a hand lands on Charlie's shoulder, her eyes immediately slide open, locking onto Seth's face as he leans over her to shake her awake. "Come on, it's time to get up," he says.
"Are we there?" Charlie asks, rubbing her eyes and stretching like a sun-bathed cat.
"Yeah, we just got here. It didn't take as long as I thought," Seth says as he opens his door and steps out. Charlie sits up and looks out the window, her eyes landing on the store Seth had talked about. It's pretty big, about the size of an average supermarket. It's styled to look like an old log cabin with expansive glass windows. Right now Seth's car is sitting in the large mostly empty parking lot, only about a dozen feet from the store. There are only a couple of other cars scattered about. Charlie cracks the door open and grabs her filthy running shoes, pulling them on and tying them securely. Maybe they'll have some proper footgear inside. Finally she steps outside of the car, grabbing her pack and slinging it on her shoulders as she trots after Seth.
"Did you come here a lot?" Charlie asks once they get up to the front of the camping outlet. The door handles are chained and padlocked, but a couple of the huge windows are smashed in. Some of the aisles are lying on the ground, their merchandise crushed and scattered. But, all things considered, it doesn't look like it's been picked over too much. Most of the things are intact.
"Yeah, it's the only store for miles. Dad and I used to come here all the time. It's where we bought the bows and guns… They used to have this hunting arcade game where you would wander around in the woods and shoot at anything that moved. Dad always stopped to play it, even though he said it was harder than actually hunting," Seth's eyes glaze over as he looks at the rundown version of the store from his childhood. Charlie gets the sense that he's not really talking to her anymore, but more to himself just as a reminder that the things he's talking about actually happened.
Charlie smiles sadly and pats his back, "Is there anything here that you always wanted but could never have?" she asks gently, trying to pull him out of his reveries. If he starts thinking too hard about it now, he'll be dead to the world for at least half an hour.
Seth sends her a wavering smile over his shoulder, "I was kind of spoiled," he admits almost sheepishly. "I'm sure they have some really cool hunting knives though," he says weakly.
Charlie grins and thumps his shoulder, "Well, now we get to find out!"
Seth tries to laugh but it really just sounds forced, "I guess you're right."
Guns drawn, the two of them make their way over to the smashed windows and carefully observe the insides of the store. The entire place is eerily still now that Charlie and Seth have stopped talking. Charlie frowns and chews on her lip, she can only imagine what Seth's going through. Seeing this place in such a sad state must be difficult for him. She doesn't want to look at his face, but she can just tell by his rigid posture and breathing. It isn't hard to tell that he's having a hard time regulating his breath. He's trying though, because he knows Charlie can hear. It doesn't work. Trying to act normal very rarely comes across as normal.
Charlie is the first one to make a move, stepping over the low wall where the window used to be. "I think I could definitely use a machete. Do you think they have any?" she asks, doing her best to break Seth out of whatever trance he's in.
She doesn't seem to be having much luck.
Seth silently follows her over the low wall, sticking as close to her as her own shadow. He doesn't answer her question, and Charlie knows instinctively that he'll be like this for a while. All she can do is look after him and try to make sure he doesn't get in trouble. The last time he did this they were in the middle of a hunting excursion and he stopped paying attention to what he was doing, scaring every animal for miles. She hopes it doesn't happen again.
First things first, they need to find water. Hopefully this place should have some. It might have cases or jugs of water, but they should at least have bottled water in vending machines or in the little refrigerators next to the cash registers. "Okay, Seth," Charlie says, turning to face him. "We're looking for water, remember?" she says, trying to gently pull him out of whatever state of mind he's fallen into.
Seth nods, causing Charlie to grin radiantly, happy to have gotten any response at all. She and Seth make their way to the cash registers, and like she thought, all 12 of them have little refrigerators connected to them. It's a welcome sight. She unzips her empty backpack and pries one of the fridges open. It's filled with mostly soft drinks that were sure to taste awful at this point, but there are still bottles of water mixed in. She would fill her bag with water first, then come back for the soft drinks. She grabs all the water she can get her hands on, stuffing the bottles into the huge backpack she brought with her. She cleans all of the water out of the first fridge and moves on to the next fridge. She's able to cram three fridges worth of water bottles into her hiking backpack, about 48 bottles in total.
Charlie zips the gaping mouth of the pack with some difficulty and turns to Seth. "Will you take this to the car and bring an empty bag back?" she asks, hefting the heavy bag into his arms.
Seth robotically wraps his arm around the pack, nodding without meeting her eyes. She feels a little guilty asking him to do this when he's so clearly distressed, but she needs help. Besides, the car's parked close enough to spit on. There's no way he can get into trouble in that short distance. "I'm going to be in the knives section!" she calls after him as an afterthought. If he hears he doesn't show it.
Charlie scans the signs that hang from the roof, labeling the sections. Unfortunately, they don't have a sign that says, 'Knives,' but 'Outdoor Sports,' sounds good. Knifing things is an outdoor sport, right? Holding onto that thought, she follows the sign all the way to the back of the store.
Once Charlie reaches that section, it's immediately apparent that she chose incorrectly. Instead of knives, she finds tennis rackets, footballs, volley ball nets, and baseball bats. She's getting ready to curse her luck and move on when her eyes catch sight of an interesting bat. It's a bright metallic purple with 'MISFORTUNE,' scrawled across it in acid green stylized letters. It has supple black leather wrapped around the handle, and Charlie can't help but pick it up. She grips the material tightly, a small smile coming to her face. In high school she had been on the softball team for a week before her father made her quit. Good thing they taught her how to hold it during that week.
Charlie frowns and rolls the bat in her fingers. That was over 17 years ago. She sullenly moves to put the bat back where it belongs.
CRACK!
A gunshot rings out and nearly startles Charlie into dropping the bat. Her eyes widen and before she's even fully aware of what that gunshot could entail, she's sprinting to the front of the store. She prays to any god that will listen, 'Please don't let Seth be hurt.' As she rounds the corner of an aisle, her eyes fall on the cause of the gunshot. There are infected people completely surrounding the car. That's where Seth is supposed to be.
Charlie's mind flies into a panic. She pushes herself to run faster, an animalistic fear pumping through her veins. She leaps over the low wall where the window used to be without even breaking her stride. Seth has to be okay, he just has to. If he's not okay, then she doesn't know what she's going to do.
Charlie sprints right up to the back of the crowd of infected people, who have yet to notice her, and cracks her bat against the head of one. It splits open like an overripe melon and the infected person crumples. She's incredibly thankful she hadn't put the bat up like she intended before the gunshot sounded. A couple of the crowd turns to face Charlie, their gaping maws and dead eyes unnerving her. But nothing scared her more than the thought of losing Seth. He's surrounded by infected, not to mention he's not in the right state of mind. Her hand twitches towards the gun on her belt, but she can't chance it. She might hit Seth. Instead she raises her bat again and swings it with all her force, smashing it across the head of another infected person. It goes down, and another replaces it.
Charlie isn't aware of much, aside from Misfortune swinging and infected people going down. In mid-swing, an infected person lunges at her and catches her off guard, throwing her to the ground. She manages to hold it off with Misfortune, its caved-in, rotten mouth inches away from her nose. With her hands wrapped around both ends of Misfortune, it's just like bench-pressing. Only, instead of straight up, she pushes to the side, throwing the infected person off of her. She quickly rolls to her feet, lashing out with the side of her foot and kicking the infected person's head as hard as she can manage. To top it off, she brings Misfortune down upon it, the skull collapsing beneath it with a wet crunch.
Charlie's eyes snap over to Seth, noticing that the infected person she just killed was the last. There are three men she's never seen before standing in the middle of all the infected bodies. They aren't her concern right now. Misfortune slips from her grasp and clatters to the ground. She sprints to Seth, grabbing him by the forearms and hastily checking him over for fresh blood. He's covered in gore, but it's black and rancid. "Are you okay?" she asks, not even waiting for an answer as she begins to pat him down, her fingers feeling for wounds. "I'm so sorry, Seth! I shouldn't have sent you out here alone!" she says, immediately launching into an apology, still checking for injuries.
Seth wraps his fingers around her wrists. "I'm fine," he says, smiling weakly. He looks a little shell-shocked, but he's smiling. "It's okay, you didn't know."
Charlie swallows thickly. "I should've went with you. I shouldn't have let you go alone," she whispers, guilt eating a hole in her stomach. She had almost gotten him killed.
"I'm okay. Everything's alright," Seth says quietly, trying to reassure her. It doesn't work.
Charlie turns her gaze on the three men standing awkwardly behind her. "Who are y'all?" she asks, a smattering of venom coating her words. There's an Asian boy who seems to be in his late-teens to early twenties, a middle aged Hispanic man and a black-haired man wearing a plain brown T-shirt with 'police,' written across the left side of his chest.
The 'police officer,' steps forward. "My name's Shane, this is Glenn," he says, gesturing to the Asian, who waves awkwardly in response, "and Morales," this time he gestures to the Hispanic man, who nods respectfully at Charlie. "We saw your friend struggling with a walker, so we shot it. The sound drew more."
"My name's Charlie and this is Seth," Charlie says, pointing at Seth. "Thank you so much for helping him," she mutters, ashamed for putting him in a situation where he needed help. She knew he wasn't at a hundred percent, yet she still asked him. If anything had happened, it would've fallen on her shoulders.
"It's nice to meet you, ma'am," Shane says, inclining his head politely. "I couldn't help but notice, the car doesn't look like you've been living in it. It's too clean. Y'all got somewhere you're holdin' up?"
"We've been staying at my family's hunting cabin," Seth reveals, causing Charlie to grimace. She had hoped he would've kept that to himself. She didn't trust these people yet.
"Hunting cabin?" Morales repeats, his tone curious.
Shane glances at Morales, catching onto what the Hispanic man was implying. "Y'all hunters?" he asks, his face carefully neutral.
"Is there a reason you want to know?" Charlie asks, stepping in front of Seth before he can open his mouth this time.
Shane shrugs, "We got a big camp, be nice to have a couple more hunters. We could keep you safe, and you could help keep our people fed."
"Sounds like you got a couple already," Charlie says bluntly, shifting her weight as her eyes scan for the vehicle they must've used to get to this place. She wants to know which direction they came from.
"The Dixons are a pair of time bombs. I'd like to get people more… stable on food detail," Shane says, causing Charlie's eyes to narrow at what he said about his own people. "Besides, we could always use more food. It's going to be a tough winter if we don't get rescued."
"How do you know I'm better than the Dixons?" Charlie asks snippily, extremely wary of these strangers and their 'camp,' "What if I'm worse and you're inviting a murderer into your camp?"
Shane smiles a little, amusement shining in his eyes. "I don't think you'd ask that question if you were a murderer. 'Sides, I can already tell you ain't worse than the Dixons."
Charlie's figurative hackles rise at his words. If she was a cat, her tail would resemble a pipe cleaner. "Oh yeah, and how do you know that?" she spits, angry at him for making assumptions.
Shane laughs as if her anger is there for his own personal amusement. "Well… for starters you haven't tried to stab anyone yet. You also haven't brought Morales or Glenn's race up."
Charlie pauses, caught off guard by the statement. Some of her anger slips away unnoticed. She cocks an eyebrow at Shane, still glaring at him. "The fuck would I do that?" she asks, moving her gaze to the two men standing slightly behind Shane.
"See? You're not a racist, you're not a murderer, and you know how to hunt," Shane says, counting on his fingers as he speaks.
"You only assume we know how to hunt. You don't know," Charlie states.
"If y'all really weren't hunters, you wouldn't've waited so long to deny it," Shane says bluntly. He points at the open pack with water bottles scattered around it from when it was dropped. "You don't have a source of fresh water and there are only two of you," he says, causing Charlie's entire body to tense. Was he threatening them? Before she can think on it anymore, he continues speaking, "We need you. We have women and children to feed and nonperishables only do so much. It looks like you need us too."
"Why?" Charlie asks softly, feeling her resolve crumble at the mention of children. Her favorite Taekwondo classes to teach were the ones with children in them. "Why do we need you?"
"We have a source of fresh water for drinking, bathing, and laundry. We also have over 20 people at our camp, meaning we have a better chance of someone coming to rescue us," Shane says, his eyes sliding over to Seth. He had been talking mostly to Charlie, but he knew Seth had a big part in the decision too.
Seth frowns, placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder, "I think we should go, Charlie. He's right. There's no water close enough to the cabin to use. Besides, there are people there who aren't trying to eat us," he whispers. He tries to keep the pleading tone out of his voice, but she can see right through him. He really wants to go, evidenced by the way his hand tightens nervously around her shoulder.
That's the final nail in the coffin and Charlie sighs, finally assenting to joining Shane's group. "Fine, if you really want us to join your group, you'll wait here until we get back with our stuff," she commands, staring Shane straight in the eye. If he just thinks he can just appear out of nowhere and try to commandeer control over her situation, then he has another thing coming. She and Seth are going to their camp, but he's still not in charge of either of them. That much is for sure.
Shane cocks an eyebrow at her tone, "Well, I'm sure with three extra pairs of hands you could gather your stuff a lot faster," he says in a placating manner.
"We don't have much, it won't take long," Charlie shoots back immediately, grabbing Seth's arm and gently pulling him towards the car.
Shane watches them, tucking his thumbs into his thick police-issue belt and shifting his weight to emphasize the gun on his belt. "How do I know you're not going to go get more firepower and attack us?"
Charlie pivots on her heel to turn her entire body to look at him, not comfortable with talking to him while her back's turned. "How do I know you're not going to get more people from your camp while we're gone?!" she asks in swift indignant retaliation.
Shane snorts a short laugh, "Well, looks like we both have reason to suspect the other. How 'bout we make a deal? I'll send one of my men with you to help pack, and one of you stay here, to help round up supplies."
"That's not fair," Charlie points out immediately. "No matter what, it's going to be two of you against one of us. If one of us stays here, then the two of you will have the advantage if you were to attack. If two go to the cabin with one of us driving, then you could still easily overpower whoever went and take the cabin for yourself," she says, glancing back at Seth to see him frowning. She isn't sure whether it's because she's being so difficult and he just wants to get to that camp already, or whether he sees her point and agrees. Either way, he wants to go to the camp.
Shane rubs the back of his head and sighs, "I don't know what we're gonna do then. We obviously don't trust each other enough for this to work out."
Charlie feels a pang of guilt when she realizes that Shane's on the verge of giving up on them because of her and how difficult she's being. This camp is what Seth wants. "I didn't say I wasn't going to do it. I was just pointing out that it's an unfair arrangement," she says at last. Her eyes rake over Morales, the slightly portly Hispanic man, and Glenn, the awkward Asian teen, trying to glean important information off of them from their appearance alone. 'This is what Seth wants,' she keeps reminding herself. Obviously, Glenn is more geared towards speed than strength. His arms are pretty thin and he looks like he doesn't really have a mean bone in his body. Or any bones, for that matter, he seems kind of spineless with the way his eyes keep darting around. Morales is a different story in the strength department. He is somewhat overweight, but it's easy to tell he could muster a good bit of power if he tried. He's also a little bit more confident than Glenn, his eyes focused on Charlie instead of everywhere. At least, they were until she stared back. When her eyes met his, they dropped to the ground and he tried to pretend he wasn't staring.
Lastly, Charlie's eyes turn on Shane. He is obviously the main threat if anything happens. He's about as muscular as Seth, though not as tall, with thick arms and a well-muscled torso. His eyes are a sharp dark brown, always locking onto minute movements that would otherwise be lost on others. His nose is wide and crooked, tell-tale signs of multiple breaks and re-breaks. Even the way the man stands screams, 'alpha male.' He stands with his feet wide a part, hips pushed forward a little to emphasize his crotch (an animalistic gesture, really), and thumbs hooked into his belt, once again emphasizing his crotch.
Shane's controlling, alpha male, 'my way or the highway,' nature is the exact reason he and Charlie are going to have a big problem.
At last, Charlie reaches a decision. "If this is going to happen, I want him," she points at Morales, "and him," then Glenn, "to go with Seth while you," this time she points at Shane, "and I stay here for supplies." Seth could easily deal with Glenn and Morales if anything came up. She knew he was more than capable of defending himself. Shane is the real threat. She's much more comfortable knowing that she's going to be the one left alone with him instead of Seth.
"I thought you didn't have a lot of stuff?" Shane counters, shifting his weight again in almost a literal translation of the saying, 'throwing his weight around.' "So why doesn't Glenn stay here and search?" The cold, calculating look on his face tells her he knew exactly how that ruined her plan. It sounded like an innocent suggestion, if she turns it down it will cause more suspicion. She spares Seth a glance over her shoulder. He's looking considerably more upbeat than before, completely unaware of the mental war being waged between Charlie and Shane. He seems to just be happy that everything's being worked out.
Charlie swallows thickly, hating the feeling of being backed into a corner. But Seth looked happy enough with that arrangement. "Fine," she relents at last. "Morales will go with Seth and the three of us will stay here." Morales doesn't look too pleased with this new development, but he doesn't say anything. It's likely that he sees Seth as intimidating and is nervous about being alone with him. Seth is unusually tall and very well-muscled. The thought almost entices a smile from Charlie; Seth couldn't be intentionally intimidating if his life depended on it. The man worked with small children for a living for goodness sake. Or, well, used to, however that goes in the apocalypse.
In Charlie's humble opinion, she's the one of which to be weary. Apparently Shane saw it too, that's why he wanted Glenn to stay as well. If either of them were to try something, it'd be her and not Seth. Not that she's going to, of course, Seth wants this too badly for her to screw it up on purpose. Now if Shane or Glenn were to try anything, it'd be an entirely different story. But Shane's the one who wants them to join the camp, and Glenn seems to be pretty harmless. Everything might actually work out.
"Alright," Shane says slowly, "sounds like we've got ourselves a deal."
Morales and Seth load up into Seth's car while Charlie, Shane, and Glenn watch. Then Seth hands Charlie an empty pack and before anyone can change their minds, they're gone. The three that stayed behind watch until the blue car is completely out of sight before turning to each other.
Charlie sighs, trying to put aside some of her aggressive mistrust. "I don't know about the two of you," she begins, rubbing the worn soles of her running shoes against the ground, "but I could really use some new shoes."
Glenn seems to perk up immediately at her civil, almost conversational tone. "I, uh, I know where the shoe section is… if you want," he says, smiling hesitantly.
Charlie tries to smile, but it only comes out as a tired tug of her lips. "That'd be nice," she says, attempting to reassure herself that Seth would be okay with Morales. The only one in this situation that has shown any hostility is Charlie herself. She understands that they have more reason to be suspicious of her than the other way around. She can't help it though, and it's not going to stop her worrying. "Lead the way," she says, gesturing at the broken window and slinging the empty pack on her shoulder.
Glenn nods, the glass crunching under his shoes as he steps inside the store, Charlie at his heels, and Shane at hers. He leads her through the deserted building to the back corner, where a couple meager racks of boots were on display. Shane had stopped following them somewhere along the way, she notices, glancing behind herself.
"How many times have you come here before?" Charlie asks as she starts grabbing at the boxes of shoes and pawing through them. They were mostly men's work boots, but if she could find some that fit she would be happy enough. They were ridiculously durable and most of them had steel toes. That would come in handy, seeing as she tried to kick an infected person's skull in twice out of the three times she came in contact with them. First Mr. Foster and then that infected person that tackled her outside the store.
"Only a couple times," Glenn replies, shrugging. "It's closer than some of the other places but it usually doesn't have all the things we need."
Charlie nods in understanding, "Makes sense, I guess this place doesn't have much food. Not the canned stuff anyway."
Glenn shrugs again, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, "Not really. It did have a bunch of beef jerky though," he says sheepishly.
Charlie breathes a quiet laugh, "Seth said it would have that," she comments, pulling a box off of the shoe rack. Inside is a plain pair of women's work boots made of dark leather. Charlie pulls one of the boots out and pushes down on the toe, and it doesn't give in the slightest. They're a little heavy, but if she went for her morning runs in them she'd get used to the weight in no time.
"I, uh, don't mean to pry, but what's the connection between you two? Is he your husband?" Glenn asks, following her over to a bench so she can try them on.
Charlie laughs, "No, he's not my husband. He's just a really good friend I've had for a long time," she explains, sitting down and pulling the shoes out of the box. Glenn sits down on a bench opposite of Charlie's.
"Oh," is all Glenn has to say. A moment of silence passes awkwardly as Charlie finishes lacing up the boots. She stands up and taps the toe of the boot on the ground a couple times, trying to get it to settle into a comfortable position. Finally satisfied, she walks up and down the aisle a couple times. They feel good, she's sure once they're broken in they'll be even more comfortable.
"Do… Do you have anyone you're looking for?" Glenn asks, breaking the silence.
Charlie shakes her head, "No, I don't," she says resolutely, rocking back in forth in the boots to get more of a feel for them.
"Oh… OH! I'm sorry… I shouldn't have asked," Glenn murmurs, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
"It's fine," Charlie says, shrugging. "I don't really have anyone to miss anyway." It's awkwardly quiet for a long time before Charlie returns his earlier question. "Do you have anyone you're looking for?"
Glenn shakes his head, "No, I'm kind of on my own."
Charlie nods sympathetically. She can relate, but at least she has Seth. She's not entirely alone in this strange, new terrifying world. "This group of yours… what is it like?" She asks, steering the subject away from their collective lack of family.
Glenn shrugs, glancing to the side, "Big, I guess. Most of the people are just there to wait out whatever's going on. I don't have much contact with a lot of them."
Charlie hums in understanding, "Well, what about the Dixons? Are they really as bad as Shane seems to think?"
Glenn frowns, "Well, yeah… They're pretty bad. Merle's usually drunk or… high, I guess. I don't know. I can't tell the difference. He's really, uh, loud, no matter what. Daryl keeps to himself most of the time, he's the one who hunts for everyone. He doesn't really talk unless he's telling people what to do."
"Shane said they were racist," Charlie reminds him, wanting to hear more about the Dixons. Any information on them would help her prepare.
"Yeah…" Glenn pauses to cringe distastefully, "they are. Jacqui and T-Dog get the worst of it, though. They only call me names whenever they want my attention, which isn't often, thankfully."
"Who are Jacqui and T-Dog?" Charlie questions, heading to where she hopes she'll find the knife section, Glenn following behind her.
"Jacqui and T-Dog are two of the people in our camp. They're black and that's why the Dixons mess with them so much," Glenn explains. "I guess T-Dog gets the worst of everyone, they seem to go easier on Jacqui since she's a girl an' all…"
"There's no excuse for being a racist, especially in the apocalypse," Charlie mutters, more than positive that she and the Dixons aren't going to get along well. She just hopes she won't have to associate with them much. Coming down off of her soap box, Charlie sighs, "Do you happen to know where the knives are?" She asks at last, realizing she has no idea.
"Oh, uh, yeah, this way," Glenn says, taking her along a slightly different route than she was following. Soon enough, after a short somewhat awkward journey, a glass case with a register comes into view. On display are several different kinds of knives. They're nothing extreme, mostly just plain skinning knives. That's probably why it hasn't been looted. There's another glass case next to it, but that one has been smashed in and all of its previous contents taken. It probably had guns in it, though it doesn't look like there were very many to begin with.
Charlie trots up to the display case and runs her fingers over the dusty surface. The glass doesn't look too thick, and she'd rather inspect the knives up close than window shop. Her mind decided, she glances around, looking for some kind of cloth or blunt object.
"How are you gonna break that?" Glenn asks, walking up to glass case.
Charlie spots a rack of hunting vests, "Hold on," she mutters, making her way over to the rack to grab a vest. It's made of thick canvas material with some sort of water proofing quality to it. It'll work perfectly. As she walks back to the case, she carefully wraps the vest around the crook of her elbow, making sure it has even coverage. "You might want to stand back," she advises Glenn, securing the vest so that it won't fall off.
"What are you doing?!" Glenn asks, slightly panicked as he hastily obeys her suggestion to get back.
Charlie doesn't answer him, instead raising her padded elbow and then smashing it into the glass counter. The counter gives under the blow, shattering and falling over the merchandise like a demented sort of rain. She takes a couple steps back and starts to unwind the vest, glass being shaken out of it as she does. Once she removes it, she tosses it to the ground. Her elbow tingles, but that's the only side-effect so far.
"You're crazy," Glenn states, watching her pick through the knives from a healthy distance.
Charlie shrugs and continues to inspect the knives for quality as well as she can with her inexperienced eye. "If crazy's what it takes, then that's okay," she says, picking up a rather interestingly shaped skinning knife and tapping it on the metal skeleton of the former glass counter. Shards of glass jump off of the blade and fall back into the case. She doesn't really know what makes a knife a good skinning knife, so she grabs two of each style and shakes the glass off of them before placing them into a pocket of her pack. Leaning over the counter, she digs deeper, trying to move the shelf to see if there's anything under it. She pushes on the shelf, and surprisingly, it moves under her fingers, revealing a whole new set of knives. These are more combat-geared. Smiling, she begins to load them into her pack along with a couple leather sheaths and holsters.
Charlie steps away from the counter and pats her clothes down; trying to make sure she didn't get any glass on her. "Alright," she says, dusting her hands off. "Is there anywhere you wanted to go?" She asks Glenn, satisfied with her haul of knives.
"No," Glenn says simply. "I'm sure Shane's already got it covered…" he pauses to think for a moment before shrugging, "I guess you'd need a tent if you didn't have one… a sleeping bag, too."
Charlie feels a belated twinge of regret for agreeing to join the group, realizing that this camp does not have actual beds like the hunting cabin does. She nods, "Okay, take me there," she says at last. She gets the feeling looking for a tent and a sleeping bag won't be as fun as ransacking the knives section.
Charlie, Glenn and Shane finished gathering everything they needed for the camp before Seth and Morales got back. Shane seemed to like spending his time interrogating Charlie as they lounged in the merciful shade provided by the roof in front of the store. She tolerated his questions, if somewhat impatiently, and returned them with her own. Really, he only repeated the questions Glenn asked earlier and then moved onto her spotless criminal record—not that he believed her when she told him. She didn't mind the disbelief, she had a healthy amount of skepticism in him too. Glenn turned out to be exactly as harmless as she had predicted though. Least he's nice. He did help her find the shoes, knifes, tents, and sleeping bags. She took the liberty of picking a tent and sleeping bag for Seth, too.
Finally, after Shane ran out of questions, they lapsed into silence. The bodies of the infected people from earlier were still where they left them, in addition the bodies of a couple more stragglers that were stumbling in front of the store when Charlie, Shane, and Glenn were coming out. No doubt the gun shot drew them.
It smelled like death, there's no other way to explain it. Just imagine more than 20 bodies frying on asphalt in the Georgia heat, and that horrific scent is exactly what the scent of death is in this situation. It's a cloying scent that overpowers everything and clings to clothes with the determination of a baited bull.
But that still isn't enough to turn Charlie's stomach away from food. She hasn't eaten since breakfast, and it had to be sometime after 5 PM now. Seth and Morales better be on their way already.
"How long did you say the drive took?" Shane asks for the third time, his arm propped up on his knee as he reclines against the side of the building.
Charlie breathes a sigh. She already told him she was asleep during the drive. "I don't know. It takes a long time to get down that dirt road, so 40 minutes?"
"You don't sound very sure," Shane says, flicking a piece of gravel. It skitters across the ground until it collides with the crushed skull of an infected person.
"I'm not," Charlie says bluntly. "I was asleep when we drove here."
"There they are!" Glenn says quickly, interfering with whatever Shane was going to say.
Charlie's on her feet before the other two, waiting for them to get close enough for her to see inside the car. It takes a few moments but eventually her eyes make out Seth's silhouette. Her shoulders sag a little with the relief of seeing him unharmed. Morales is with him too, a bonus, she supposes.
The car stops in front of them and Seth and Morales step out. "What was the hold up?" Charlie calls, smiling despite herself.
"We have A LOT of stuff," Seth says, jerking his thumb at the car. "I didn't know what things you wanted either, so it was really hard to pack for you."
Charlie realizes for the first time that there's a chance not all of her belongings made it into the car. She shrugs, "I'm sure you did fine." She isn't too concerned, Seth knows her too well to leave anything that's absolutely vital. Besides, another trip can be made if necessary.
"Alright," Shane says, standing up, "Y'all ready to go?" He asks.
"We are if you are," Seth agrees, ducking back into the car.
"We parked a ways down the road," Shane says, pointing in the opposite direction Seth and Morales had drove in from. "Didn't want to stir up whatever walkers were in the area with the engine."
"Walkers?" Charlie repeats curiously, wondering what he was referring to. He used the term earlier, and she's pretty positive that he's talking about the infected people, but she'd like a little clarity on that matter.
"Those guys," Shane says, pointing the group of rotting bodies. "We call 'em walkers."
"I like it, it's simple," Charlie comments thoughtfully, mentally adding the term to her vocabulary. She stares at the pile of bodies until a flash of neon purple catches her gaze. She walks a little closer to investigate, only to find the bat from earlier, Misfortune, lying among the dead. She stares at it for longer than necessary before picking it up and taking it back with her to where Seth's car is sitting, still running. It helped her tremendously earlier, only feels right to take it with her.
"We can give you a ride, but someone will have to sit in a lap," Seth says once Charlie reaches the group again, bringing the topic back up, "we had to use some of the backseat for food."
Almost simultaneously, all eyes turn to Charlie, who sighs in reaction. "Seriously? I smell awful, nobody's gonna want me in their lap," she states. Shane, Morales and Glenn all have a look of sheepishness, though in varying degrees, but they don't stop staring at her expectantly. "Like, no showers for a month awful," she elaborates, hoping to turn some of the eyes away from her. They aren't deterred.
Finally Glenn shrugs, "If it's not you, it's me since I'm the next smallest, and no one wants that. You're a girl, and that's always better than having a man sit on your lap, no matter what…" he mutters, trailing off at the end.
Charlie shifts her weight uncomfortably, "Can't you just drop them off and then come pick me up?" she asks pleadingly, rubbing her arm self-consciously. Her skin feels like its crawling.
Seth frowns at her, "Would you let me stay here alone?" he asks, his tone taking on an accusing property.
Charlie rubs her eyes in exasperation, "No, I wouldn't let you stay here alone," she admits.
"Then you can't expect me to let you stay here alone," he says in return.
Charlie takes a deep breath and tries to calm her nerves, "Okay…" she hesitantly agrees, still trying to rub away the tingling sensation. "But you can't say I didn't warn you about the smell."
It takes a couple minutes, but they're able to make a seating arrangement, at last. Morales gets shotgun, since he's the largest, and because it's Seth's car, Seth gets to drive. In the back seat Glenn's in the middle, because he's second smallest of the group as stated earlier, and in the seat next to the door it's Shane and Charlie, with Charlie sitting on Shane's lap. She's not very happy with how it worked out. She takes solace in the fact that he probably isn't either, at least since she accidentally kicked his shin earlier with her new extremely heavy boots while getting in the car. Then he had to deal with the scent of a month's worth of body odor, dead animal, and walker juice. Glenn had to as well, but at least the source of the stench wasn't sitting on his lap.
The ride to their car is only a minute long, but it feels like an agonizingly long minute to Charlie. She didn't want to get any closer to Shane than necessary, so she sat as far away from him as possible. That's an unsurprisingly short distance, considering she's sitting across his knees. It doesn't keep her from trying not to touch him.
When the car comes to a complete stop, Charlie has to refrain herself from throwing the door open and taking a flying leap from the car. Instead, she allows Shane to open the door and forces herself to calmly slide out so that the other two passengers can get out as well. Only when all three of them climb into their own car, a station wagon that has seen better days, does Charlie fully relax and get back into Seth's car. Her heart feels like a humming bird, keeping a ridiculously fast tempo. She starts to wring her hands together, but after realizing what she's doing she awkwardly lets them drop into her lap. She takes a deep breath and lets it go, calming down slightly.
"Everything's going to be okay," Seth reassures her, patting her shoulder.
Charlie laughs weakly, "I know. This camp is going to be good for us."
"There's other people there, and food, and water, and protection… I think we're going to be happy there," Seth grins.
Charlie tries to grin back only to find that her emotional reserves only have enough energy left for a smile. "You're right…" she agrees, nodding her head. "I think we're going to be very happy there." At the very least, Seth is going to be happy. She's going to make sure of it, even if it takes everything she has.