I was introduced to the rest of the group after agreeing to stay. The woman who'd been with Glenn at the fence was named Maggie, and was subsequently Glenn's girlfriend and Hershel's daughter. His younger daughter was a petite blonde named Beth, who had a kind face and an even kinder smile. Rick's son was named Carl, and he hugged me tightly, thanking me for bringing Sophia back to all of them.
Already I felt these people were warming their ways into my heart.
Lori was Rick's wife, and she cradled an infant to her chest as she shook my hand, and I had to force myself to stop staring. An infant meant she'd been born during this whole mess, and all I could think was, why? Lori caught the look on my face and she smiled. I felt my cheeks warm knowing I'd been caught.
"I know, a baby in this mess, who'd want to right? We weren't sure it was going to work but…it did. And she's our little blessing." The infant cooed in her mother's arms, and I didn't miss the glance she sent Rick, only for him to turn away. Her smile faltered, but I chose to ignore it. Not my business.
"She's beautiful," I complimented, brushing a finger against the baby's soft cheek. Her chubby hand took hold of my finger and attempted to chew, but Lori pulled her hand away from her mouth.
"That's not for eating, Judy," she scolded gently, bouncing her. I smiled.
"Beautiful name."
"Carl picked it." Lori sent a loving smile to her son, who matched it with a blank look. What was with this family? Lori excused herself then, her eyes looking a little glassy. I watched her go with a frown until Rick cleared his throat and offered to show me to a cell.
"All due respect, I'm posting a guard on your cell for a little while. Sophia vouched for you, but we still don't know you, and you don't know us," he said, looking earnestly remorseful.
"No need to explain, Rick. I respect your caution, and I hope you can accept mine. This is…all very new for me. I haven't been around people for a long time. It's going to take me a little while to adjust."
Rick smiled softly and rested a hand on my shoulder. "I'd say you're doing fine so far. Here we are. This is yours."
The cell was just as I'd imagine a prison cell would be—a bunk bed with a stiff mattress, a small sink, and a tiny, disgusting toilet, although I doubted normal prisons came with small bloodstains on the bed sheets.
"Sorry about the state of the place. Beggars and choosers, you know?" Rick said wryly. I smirked and shrugged. "I'll help you flip the mattress."
My belongings had already been brought into the cell when I'd been brought to Hershel, so I set the pack on the bed and began pulling various things out. Sophia and I had accumulated quite a collection of food stores, so after a moment of thought, I shoved everything back into the pack and carried it out to the common area.
Carol approached me as she saw me and I held out the pack.
"Consider this my first action of acclimating," I joked. "We managed to find a bunch of stuff. Figured I could share."
Carol took the pack from me and looked inside. "Thank you so much, Claire. It's not necessary, but we appreciate it all the same. Are you hungry? Can I make you something?"
"Actually, if it's all right, I think I'll take a can of peaches back to my cell. I'm pretty tired. This," I gestured around me, "has all been a lot to take in." Carol smiled in understanding and handed me a can of peaches out of the pack, and I took my leave, bidding a quick goodnight to those I passed.
Unsurprisingly, Rick was sitting outside my cell when I got there, no doubt taking first watch as my guard. He smiled and I mirrored it tightly, holding up my can.
"Think I'm going to eat and turn in. Been a long day," I said as a way to fill the small silence. Rick nodded, his hand at his belt buckle like some cowboy from an old western film.
"Understood. Goodnight, Claire."
"Goodnight, Rick."
I stepped into my cell, taking notice of the sheet that someone had taken the liberty of hanging in the doorframe for privacy. I sat on the bunk, the mattress creaking under my weight, and popped open the can of peaches. I ate them with my fingers, noisily, before depositing the can on the floor by the head of the bed and laying down with my head on the thin pillow.
As I laid there, in a real bed for the first time in God knew how long, I allowed myself to relax. No more sleeping with one eye open. Once I relaxed, I felt the utter exhaustion from the past two months seeping into my bones. Having only slept a maximum of two hours every night since meeting Sophia, my eyelids grew heavy quickly, and before I knew it, I'd slipped off into a deep, thankfully dreamless, sleep.
I woke the next morning to the sound of bustling in the common area. It seemed the group was already awake, and I felt momentarily guilty for allowing myself to sleep in so late. With a long yawn, I sat up and stretched my now-aching muscles. They weren't used to keeping still for the whole night, drowned in a deep sleep. My back popped as I stood up and twisted, trying to bring some life back into my body. Though I was still run down, I felt better than I had in weeks.
Apparently a full night's rest would do that for you.
The group was sitting at the tables when I walked in, straightening my hair in its ponytail. A chorus of good mornings made me smile stiffly. This would definitely take some getting used to. Carol stepped up to my side, holding a bowl of something hot.
"You slept through breakfast, but I saved this for you," she said kindly, handing me the bowl with a spoon. As I ate standing up, she looked me over. "You must have needed that sleep."
I merely nodded, opting for silence on this one. She moved away and I took a seat between Maggie and Lori at the table. Rick, I noticed, as well as Glenn and Daryl, were missing from the common area.
"They're doing patrols and clearing the fences again," Lori said by way of explanation when she noticed my looking around. "The walkers keep building up in the same spots."
"We're going to need reinforcements there pretty soon," Maggie added. "Otherwise that fence is gonna come down."
"Think we can find some beams in this place? Something strong to keep the fences up?" Lori shot back. I swallowed my bite of food, tossing the idea of intervening back and forth before I sucked it up. I was on a trial run here—I should be trying to contribute.
"Not likely in a prison, but if you can locate an old construction site, that'll be your answer," I said. Everyone at the table looked over at me in surprise, and then all at once, they smiled.
"That's a good idea," Carl quipped. "We should check the map when Dad gets back."
It was small conversation after that, mostly people asking me about where I'd come from, where Sophia and I were headed before we found them.
"Just looking for anywhere safe, I guess," I said with a shrug, looking over the table. "We needed somewhere we could stay indefinitely. I'm not sure either of us would have lasted very long if we just kept walking." Somber expressions took over the faces at the table, and more than one person looked down at Sophia.
"Well, we are all very glad you found us when you did," Hershel then spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
"Here, here," chirped Maggie, Lori, and Carol. I smiled despite myself, sending Sophia a wink across the table.
A clanging in the front entryway drew everyone's attention as Rick, Glenn, and Daryl returned, each looking serious, though Glenn and Rick sent me fleeting smiles as they saw me.
"What is it?" Lori asked, a hand to her throat.
"Fences are buckling," Daryl answered, twisting his mouth to one side. "Need somethin' to keep 'em up."
Then all heads except the three who'd just entered turned to me. This, of course, drew Rick's attention, as well as the other two.
"Claire actually had a great idea," Carol spoke up, sending me a reassuring smile. Shit.
"I was, um," I started with a mumble, "just saying how you might be able to find something at a construction site. Probably something on the map. Zoning maps tend to have them marked." I ran a hand over my ponytail nervously, keeping my eyes on the empty bowl in front of me.
When I glanced up at them through my lashes, Rick was looking at Daryl and Glenn with a grin. Glenn smiled slowly, matching it, while Daryl's expression hardly changed.
"Great idea, Claire," Rick said with an encouraging smile. I couldn't stop myself from smiling too. Rick then turned to the men at his side. "Start packin' up. We'll head out in ten."
With nods, Glenn and Daryl walked off in separate directions to gather their belongings for the trip. Rick didn't follow, however. Instead, he had his hands on his hips and a pointed look aimed at me.
"Claire, you come too. That is, if you're up to it with that hand" he said, nodding down to my bandaged digits.
"Huh? Really?" He nodded seriously. "All right." It only took me a few minutes to put together my pack—a few snacks, a water bottle, and my knife, which I strapped to my side. Settling my pack on one shoulder, I headed out to the courtyard.
Hershel was tending to the crops in the field, sitting in the grass to no doubt give his one leg a break. Carl was helping Michonne saddle the one horse in the paddock, while Beth, Lori, Carol, Sophia, and little Judith enjoyed the sunshine and warm weather. For the first time in a while, I was filled with undeniable hope; this group had truly found their Eden.
As I passed by the group of women, Sophia jumped up from her seat and ran over to me, falling into step as I walked down towards the gate.
"You're going?" she asked, both excited and saddened by the thought.
"I am. I guess Rick wants me to prove myself," I responded, kicking a rock down the field.
"You'll come back though, right?" She'd stopped walking and I turned, smiling reassuringly as her bottom lip trembled. I knelt in the grass in front of her.
"Of course I will. Gonna take more than a broken hand to stop me." I grinned. She gave me a small smile in return. "Hey, I'll be back. My hand doesn't hurt all that much, and I should help them since it was my idea."
That was a lie; my hand was a little achy from Hershel's prodding the day before, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Sophia hugged me around the neck, bending to my level and I squeezed her back tightly.
"Be good for your mom," I told her as we separated.
Daryl, Glenn, and Rick were waiting by the side of a pickup truck when I reached them, each of them nodding once to me.
"Let's go," Rick ordered.
It was a tight squeeze in the pickup. The cab wasn't all that big, but Daryl and Glenn had both volunteered to take the backseat, letting me ride shotgun beside Rick. It hadn't been necessary since I was smaller than both of them, but I wasn't going to argue. The ride was quiet as the truck bumped along the road.
"So where you from?" Glenn asked from the back, leaning forward to poke his head up into the front.
"Here, mostly. We lived outside of Atlanta before all of this went down," I said, waving my hand towards the window.
"We?" Rick asked curiously. I glanced sideways at him.
"My husband and me. We got separated," I answered softly.
"You were married?" Glenn's eyebrows rose as he looked down at my bandaged left hand.
"Am," I clarified. "I am married." It didn't go unnoticed by me when Glenn and Rick exchanged glances, but I left it alone.
The rest of the ride continued in silence up until Rick pulled the truck into an old construction yard that he'd undoubtedly found on a zoning map as I'd suggested. The skeleton of a house stood further back, to remain unfinished until someone decided he needed the wood. The earth was packed down from the construction vehicles. The entire site looked like it had been abandoned before everything fell apart. Rick looked out the windshield hopefully at the stack of railroad ties just sitting there beside a backhoe. Then he looked at me with an approving smile.
"Nice going, Claire. Glenn, Daryl, you help me with the ties. Claire, mind keeping watch? Wouldn't want you to hurt that hand any further."
"Sure thing." I climbed out of the car, followed quickly by Daryl as he pushed open the cab door behind mine. The hunter headed to the back of the truck, lowered the tailgate, and cleared a few things out of the way. He picked up a crowbar, twirling it in his hand before he looked at me.
"Here," he grunted, shoving the crowbar into my hand. "Ain't gon' do much with that dinky knife."
I scoffed. "Thanks."
He merely walked away without a backwards glance, quickly taking his position at the tail end of one of the ties. With another small huff, I climbed onto the roof of the truck, sitting cross-legged and keeping an eye out for anything living or dead.
After the third railroad tie was loaded into the truck, we had company. Three roamers meandered out of the trees, probably drawn by the sound of the ties hitting the truck bed. I sighed and ambled off the roof.
"I got 'em," I told the others as they looked towards the roamers. Spinning the crowbar in my hands, I approached the first roamer and swung the crowbar hard at its head. Its skull caved in, spraying my front with blood and brain matter, and the body landed with a soft thud on the dirt.
The second roamer went down a little slower, being a big son of a bitch. I dodged its waving arms and gnashing teeth, trying to get an angle to knock it to its knees. Spinning around it, I drove my boot into the back of its leg, but it barely moved except to turn and snarl at me. The second walker made its approach, but it didn't get far as an arrow with red and orange feathers embedded in its temple.
Returning my attention to the big walker, it took me five hits before the bastard went down, and I hit him another four times just to be sure. By the time I was done, my arm was coated in its blood nearly to my elbows, and my clothes were covered in the grime.
I was breathing heavily by the time the men came over to me. Daryl had his crossbow by his side. "Thanks," I panted. I dropped my gaze to the big walker and gave its body one last kick for good measure.
"That was…" Glenn started.
"Impressive. Really impressive. Nicely done," Rick finished. "I think we're just about finished here. Eight beams. I think that'll be enough."
As we got back to the truck, Rick handed me a rag from under the seat. "Got walker blood on your face."
Grimacing, I lowered the vanity mirror in the truck and wiped the blood from my face. "Probably look like a serial killer," I muttered, pulling my t-shirt away from me to frown down at the stains that most likely wouldn't come out.
"Carol can get those out for you," Rick said.
"Hope so. It's all I got."
I watched Rick's expression light up as he looked further up the road. A rundown Salvation Army loomed in the distance and he looked over to me with a small smile.
"Shopping?" I said with a grin. Rick pulled the truck to the side of the road as we drew closer to the store, and we took a look at the state of the place from inside the vehicle first. "Looks okay."
"Looks can be deceiving," Rick warned before getting out. The rest of us followed and I reached into the bed of the truck for the crowbar I threw in there, holding it tightly in my grip.
"Keep tight," Rick ordered, causing us to move in close together. "Don't know what we're gonna find in there."
We pressed ourselves against the glass, weapons drawn and ready. Glenn reached over and pounded his fist on the Plexiglas, and we waited. Moments later there were two thuds against the window as the walkers inside gnashed their teeth trying to reach us.
"Looks like it's just the two," I muttered, trying to peer inside to see more.
"Daryl, you take point, Glenn and Claire, you follow. I'll bring up the rear."
Without a word, Daryl yanked the door open and stepped inside. I heard the twang of his crossbow as he took out the first of the two walkers, and then Glenn moved forward to bring his machete down on the second walker's head, cleaving it nearly in two. He yanked the blade free with a grunt while Daryl retrieved his bolt, and we moved further into the store.
We kept in tight formation as we went. Every once in a while Daryl would whistle to try and draw out any walkers that might have been hiding further back. But we soon discovered that the place was clear, and we began rummaging for anything that might be left.
The shelves were stripped pretty clean, but the racks still held a decent amount of clothing. I began poking through it, yanking long-sleeved and short-sleeved shirts off their hangers, as well as jackets, tank tops, sweaters, and anything else that we might need, and stuffed them into a massive black garbage bag that places like this usually offered to customers. I moved onto the jeans rack and paused, not having a single clue what sizes the other women might be. So I grabbed jeans from sizes zero to twelve, doubting that we had anyone that big in the group, but you never knew.
I dragged the bag behind me as I walked towards the front of the store. Glenn was rifling through the shoe racks at the front, a few pairs of men's shoes beside him. He looked up when he saw me, his eyebrows raising at the sight of the massive trash bag.
"Good finds I take it?" he said with a smile. I returned it and nodded before looking down at the few pairs of shoes he pulled out. "Not too much here for women's except high heels, flip flops..."
"Impractical," I muttered. "Where are the others?"
"Rick's looking through menswear. Not sure where Daryl went off to."
I hummed a reply and started walking to the back of the store. I found Rick elbows-deep in a bin of men's t-shirts, a trash bag similar to mine beside him. It already looked mostly full.
"Looks like you're having some luck," I observed, nudging the bat his feet.
"Yeah. I'm surprised this place still has stuff left. I would'a thought it would be picked clean."
"World's running out of survivors," I murmured darkly. He averted his eyes before he resumed digging, and I walked off.
I found Daryl in the far corner of the store, in the area where new deliveries came in. He was rifling through a box until he came up suddenly with something long in his hand. He paused in his movements as he saw me before returning his attention to the weapon in his hand.
"Amazing what people just give away," he grumbled, holding out the seemingly brand new billhook machete, complete with holster and belt. I raised my eyebrows impressively, taking the weapon from his hands. "Ya can have it. Ain't gon' do much with just a knife."
"Oh but I have a crowbar now," I said jokingly, holding the weapon up in my hands. Daryl snorted.
"Ain't gon do much with that neither."
I raised an eyebrow challengingly. "I'm sorry, did you not see me open a can of whoop ass on those walkers back there?"
It felt weird joking around with Daryl. He seemed so moody and broody and stood apart from the rest of the group. But he seemed to take my joking in stride, snorting once more before he turned away to dig through the rest of the bins. I strapped the belt to my waist, feeling lopsided from the heavy weapon weighing down my left side.
"Claire, Daryl, you ready?" Rick called across the store. We hollered back a reply and made our way back to the front of the store. "Need to get back so we can set up those beams. Gonna be a tight fit with these bags."
Tight fit, indeed. Daryl and Glenn were squished in the backseat of the truck with the three giant bags between them, leaving them horribly uncomfortable for the entire ride back. Rick and I were holding back laughs as we rode along.
When we arrived back at the prison late afternoon, Daryl and Glenn didn't wait for the truck to stop before they shoved open their doors and leapt out, much to the amusement of Rick and I. The others wandered down to us, curious to see what we had picked up.
"Claire, oh my god, are you all right?" Carol asked, spinning me to face her so she could look at my bloody clothing.
"I'm fine. Got into it with a couple walkers. Nothing I couldn't handle," I replied, trying to subtly brush her off. She took a step back with a worried frown, a face only a mother could have perfected.
"How's your hand?" Rick then questioned, gesturing to it as I held it against my chest. "Come on, let's go see Hershel and make sure it's all right. Daryl, Glenn, grab Maggie and Carl and let's get those beams up before we lose the light."
I walked with Rick to see Hershel, and the older man reassured me that my hand was fine, but that I should refrain from strenuous activity—in other words, no more runs for a while. In all honesty, I was okay with that. Despite being on the road for so long and keeping myself in shape, I was tired, and there was plenty for me to do around the prison to pull my weight.
I found Rick after a short dinner of squirrel meat stew—the squirrel was courtesy of Daryl, and Carol had masterfully turned it into a stew that wasn't watery or tasteless. She admitted to asking the runners to pick up herbs and spices; if they were going to turn the prison into a home, the meals should taste homely too. I was inclined to agree.
"Hey Rick?" I asked the older man as the others cleaned up. He was holding Judith in his arms, bouncing her softly. I smiled at the sight. "I'd like to take watch tonight, if that's all right. Since Hershel banned me from runs, I'd like to pull my weight in other ways."
"I appreciate the effort," he replied softly as Judith started to drift off. He stopped bouncing her long enough to place a hand on my shoulder. "You don't need to push yourself. You did good today. Daryl and Glenn can handle watch tonight."
"Please Rick, I insist," I pressed. "I don't want to get into a habit of taking people's kindness for granted."
He narrowed his eyes at me for a few moments, remaining silent, and I tried hard not to buckle under his stare. "All right then. I'll tell Glenn he's off the hook. Your shift starts in five hours. I suggest you get some rest. I'll tell Daryl to come get you when his shift is over."
With a grateful nod and smile, I turned away to head up to my cell. Laying on the mattress, I dropped my head onto my pillow, feeling thoroughly exhausted. Before I knew it, I dropped off into sleep.
