- - : - : ~ * ~ : - : - -
- EXILED -
- CHAPTER FOUR -
- - : - : ~ * ~ : - : - -
- 2 Days After Banishment
- The Double G Country Store
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Carol sorted through the "loot" she'd gathered up from the aisles and back rooms of The Double G; combining them with the supplies she'd had in the car. As she found each item a home in a container, she took mental inventory, knowing exactly what she had, how much there was of it, and in just what container said items could be found.
Everything fell into one of four categories: Frivolous, Medical, Food and Weapons.
Frivolous items, which covered anything from toiletries to spare clothing, were placed into a small red laundry basket that was the first to be set back in the car. As such, it would be the last thing she would grab if she had to run. It was sad to say, but deodorant and shampoo were not necessities, they were luxuries. And in this world, if you had a group of walkers ready to chew your ass off, well, you didn't take the time to grab the "smell goods". Fact.
The other three categories were a little different, as each one helped keep you alive.
So, you had to plan carefully.
Carol knew that she would never be able to carry a large tote filled to the brim with canned goods. There was just no way, especially not if she had to carry other stuff like weapons and meds and such. So she had to think differently and long term. That only left one option. Break it up.
So, the three remaining totes were numbered and then filled to the top with food, meds and weapons. Now, if she were on the go and didn't have time to take her entire stock of supplies, she could just grab one and still be equipped with everything she'd need to get her through.
It was her best option at this point. Really, it was her only option.
- - : - : ~ * ~ : - : - -
As Carol closed the hatch to the Ford Taurus, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. She'd managed to ward off walkers, find shelter, gather supplies and stock the car. Hell, she'd even filled up the car with gas (though the taste of gasoline still lingered on her tongue from siphoning it out of a red pickup she'd found parked beside the store).
"Daryl would be so proud," she said with a grin.
Daryl.
Somehow her thoughts always came back to him.
The man tried so hard to be tough; wearing that "redneck without a cause" persona like it was a badge of honor. He was good at it, too. Granted, he was indeed a bad ass in the truest form of the word, but there was something more… One look into his piercing blue eyes and, despite the rough exterior, she saw exactly who he was… a good and honorable man.
People wanted to say that the friendship and the bond that they shared was because of Sophia and all that he tried to do to bring her back. But, it wasn't. It magnified then, becoming a spectacle for the group to look and raise an eyebrow at. But no, that wasn't the beginning. At least, not for her.
: ~ * ~ :
In a walker-filled world, meat was scarce. When it did happen to make its way onto a plate, it always came by way of Daryl Dixon. Carol had watched the man, for weeks now, head out into the woods and bring back food. It shamed her that not a single damn man in the camp, including Ed and the Dixon man's older brother, Merle, ever volunteered to go with him. So, when the hunter returned with a string of squirrels on his side, Carol did the only thing she could think to do; she offered to help.
"Need a hand?" she'd asked timidly, staring down at the man with at least a dozen squirrel carcasses before him.
He looked at her like she was crazy. "I don't need nothin'."
She pursed her lips, annoyed that the man had thwarted her attempt at helping out. "O-kay," she mumbled. "May I help?"
"Ain't you got nothin' better to do?"
"Not really," she told him earnestly. "Ed's asleep and Sophia's with Carl. Dale's teaching them how to play rummy. And besides that, you went through all the trouble of finding dinner, the least anyone could do is help you clean it."
He scowled at her for a second and she thought for sure he was gonna cuss a blue streak, but instead, he just threw a squirrel at her. She suppressed a laugh, amused at how silly she must have looked as she tried to catch the animal before it crashed into her chest.
"You know how to do this?" he asked.
"Yep," she said with confidence as she took a seat next to him.
"Your husband teach ya?"
"Ed?" she asked in shock, a slight giggle in her voice. "Lord no. He's never hunted anything but the remote."
She knew he wanted to smile, she just knew it.
"Figures," he finally said, chewing at the corner of his lip.
"It was my granddaddy," she finally offered up. "He used to take me huntin' with him when I was little. Momma was the youngest of three girls, and I was the youngest of 4 grandchildren… all girls. Granddaddy finally gave up on getting a boy in the family and just decided that he was gonna settle with teaching it all to me."
"Makes sense, I guess."
Daryl dipped his head down and continued to clean the squirrel in front of him. "So, you hunt then?"
"Umm, not really. I was tryin' to learn, but I wasn't a very good shot. And those dang squirrels just wouldn't hold still long enough for me to shoot."
He snorted, obviously amused at her teasing words. "Why'd you stop tryin' ta learn?"
"Granddaddy… he got sick."
"Cancer?"
Carol shook her head, the pain still present even after all these years. "Alzheimer's," she said softly, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "At first, it wasn't so bad, so nobody really stopped him from doing what he wanted to do. We would go and spend hours in the woods. First he taught me how to clean and cook the animals. Then he decided that I was finally ready to learn how to shoot."
Carol smiled, thoughts of her grandpa still warming her heart. "He had just started teaching me, when his memory started getting worse. One day, we were in the woods and he had me sit by a tree while he walked out of my line of sight to um… relieve himself. He never came back. He drove himself all the way home, forgetting that I had even been with him. It was late into the night before I found my way out of the woods. After that, the family decided what he could do. Teaching me how to hunt wasn't on the list."
Daryl stiffened. "Sorry."
"Thanks," she told him, barely touching his knee with her small hand, embarrassed when he flinched.
Seconds later when she'd finished cleaning her squirrel, she held it up to him. "This okay?"
Thoroughly inspecting the rodent, Daryl nodded. "Well hell if you ain't full of surprises."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Daryl nodded. "Them pansy ass girls oughta help out."
Carol followed Daryl's eyes as he glanced in the direction of the ladies that sat talking around a barely-there campfire.
"Want me to go ask them if they wanna just in on the fun?" Carol questioned, rising from her chair.
His hand snaked around her wrist in an instant.
"Better not," he told her, his thumb making the slightest circle on her skin before he pulled away. "I don't want a bunch o' whinin' ass women on my hands."
"Can't have that now can we?" she teased, settling back down into her chair.
"Nope," he told her, his voice warming her to the bone. "B'sides, you're better than that."
: ~ * ~ :
"You're better than that," Carol repeated, rubbing her wrist, remembering the feel of his calloused hand on her skin.
She needed to keep Daryl's words in her head. That was the mentality that she was going to have to have if she wanted to make it out here by herself. She couldn't think, even for a moment, that she couldn't make it. She couldn't let her guard down again, like she had the night before. She had to remember that she could get through it. She'd get by. She'd make do. She'd survive.
Like it or not, the prison and the people in it, were in her past now. There was no way to turn back time and change the things that happened, so she just had to move forward. No more looking back, no matter how much she wanted to.
Carol had to trust that Rick would keep his damn word and look after the girls. She had to believe that Daryl would always make it back to the prison, safe and sound. She had to remember that no one was coming for her.
This was her world now and she had two choices: opt out or suck it up. And, Carol Peletier was no damn quitter.
- - : - : ~ * ~ : - : - -