I woke up at dusk. I didn't remember falling asleep but I could recall the wooziness that loosing so much blood had brought me. The suburban was idling with the headlights on, illuminating Rick and T Dog syphoning gas from a silver compact car. The car's trunk was open and there was broken glass all over the road between us and them, reflecting our high beams like little diamonds.
I was probably still a bit out of it from reopening my wound.
I shifted in my seat and a hand pressed against my forehead. I stiffened and Hershel's older daughter put her head in my line of vision. She felt each of my cheeks and put her hand on my left shoulder and the makeshift bandages over my wound.
"How're you feelin'?" She asked, gingerly pulling the bandages off.
I winced and closed my eyes, waiting for her to prod the tender area and cause me more pain. Thankfully, it didn't come, she replaced the bandage and stuck her head up between the front seats.
"The bleedin's pretty much stopped." She said, addressing Hershel.
"And the fever?" He asked, turning in his seat to look at her.
"Broke. We could use some bandages, though. She bled through what we had." She sat back in her seat and Glenn put an arm around her.
"I'm Maggie by the way." She said, addressing me. I nodded and pulled my trusty wallet out, showing her my battered ID.
She squinted in the light and nodded as she read; Glenn reached out behind her and tilted it so he could read.
"Student." Glenn said and I put my wallet back in the back pocket.
I nodded, Yes.
"Can you show me what you were studying?" Glenn asked.
I tilted my head. There wasn't an action for undeclared major. I was probably going to be a medical transceptionist. My volunteer work was in the medical field. My internship was as an assistant to an assistant to the head of something in a large, multinational company. Basically, I was very experienced at ordering coffee or takeout and making copies.
I pretended to pick up a phone and then type on a keyboard. Then I made a square with my hands to represent a cubicle. Secretary was probably as specific as I could get.
Glenn and Maggie nodded but I was pretty sure they couldn't decipher my charade. We all turned, awkwardly, and stared out the front of the suburban again, watching Rick and T Dog cap a second gas can.
Rick stood and walked over to the driver's side of the suburban. Hershel rolled down the driver's side window and Rick leaned inside, reeking of gasoline.
"Third raid and as much fuel as we can carry. It's getting dark soon; we better find a place to camp for the night." Rick said.
"I had a thought about that. There's a forest reserve up this road a ways, maybe half an hour or so. Got a ranger station, runs on a generator, they'd have supplies." Hershel said.
Rick nodded slowly, "Alright, let's head out.
-
In the ranger station, by the glow of the wood burning fireplace, Carol was smiling broadly at me. She had found the medical stash, digging in the cupboards. I had found nothing but dull butter knives and packets of condiments in the drawers.
"There's gauze, bandages, a sling." She said, rifling through different white packages.
I grinned and tossed a ketchup package on the counter in front of her. She looked at me quizzically and pointed to the drawers and shrugged. It was in there.
"I don't think there're enough of these to mask the taste of squirrel." She said, chuckling.
At that, Daryl looked up from the darkest corner of the room where he was cleaning four squirrels he had hunted in the woods. He scowled and I wrinkled my nose and tossed a ketchup package by his feet. He shook his head and went back to skinning.
The ranger cabin was an excellent idea on Hershel's part. The windows had sturdy, wooden shutters, and even if they didn't, they were very small and few and far between. There was a fireplace, a few weapons chained on a rack, medical supplies and various chairs and cots all over. The woods were fairly deserted; even so, Rick was outside, keeping watch.
T Dog was cooking the first of Daryl's squirrels over the fire. Lori, Maggie and Beth were arranging chairs and taking stock of blankets and pillows from a storage room. Glenn, Hershel and Carl were dismantling the weapons cache. Carol and I raided the large wooden cabinets by the front door and were then going to rummage around in the third and final room of the cabin, the first and second being the main area and storage, an office.
And there was a bathroom. A clean, sanitary, working bathroom with running water. There was a standard toilet and sink but most importantly, a tiny shower in the corner. Hershel was right about the generator, too. It provided the whole station with electricity and hot water.
The group had agreed to get the cabin in order before we started taking showers. Rick wanted us to have an idea of what was useful in the cabin right away, in case we needed to leave in a hurry. I sincerely hoped we wouldn't be forced out of the cabin by the dead, I was practically salivating, thinking about bathing again for the first time in… Weeks.
"'Bout time to go through the office." Carol said.
I nodded, Yes.
The office was incredibly dull, the only useful item being an ornate letter opener and a Swiss army knife. Despite our pathetic haul, Carol was obviously in a good mood, smiling and joking with me while searching, despite the fact that I couldn't respond. The group's spirits seemed to be quite high after arriving at the cabin.
Except for Rick and Daryl, that is. Daryl seemed to be constantly grimacing and Rick kept running his hands through his hair and over his face. He smiled, over dinner, when Carl spoke to him but it didn't reach his eyes. Everyone was surprisingly talkative while we ate, which was a drastic change from the night before where my pantomimes had been the focus of everyone's attention.
I glanced over at Daryl and remembered our hunt together; the questions he asked that he genuinely seemed interested in the answers. I frowned realizing that he had been trying to gauge my threat level to the group. During his treatment of me last night into early this morning, he had asked me more questions, similar to the ones Rick had asked civilly. Daryl hadn't waited for me to show him my answers, though; he had threatened me and proved he could follow through if I did mean the group harm.
I blinked once to clear my head of the unpleasant memories and Daryl was staring directly at me. I blushed and looked away; tucking my feet under my body in the beat-up armchair I was sitting in.
"You want some more, Layla?" T Dog asked, holding out a plate of squirrel to me.
I patted my stomach and shook my head, smiling, No, I'm full.
"You can shower first, and then Hershel'll patch you up." Rick told me, taking a piece of squirrel from T Dog.
I nodded and bowed to Rick, Okay. Thank you.
Daryl was between me and the bathroom, while passing him I chanced a look and he was eating with one hand and staring at my intently. I entered the bathroom, locked the door and sighed. I had not missed the intricacies of social interactions while I had been between groups.
