Chapter 10: Locked and Loaded

I didn't know what to do. This girl just slaughtered maybe fifty or so walkers by herself. Who is this chick? Why go through the trouble? Thoughts buzzed in my skull, causing my scalp to tingle. Should I tell Rick? I leaned against the door. I decided that handling something else on my own wouldn't be such a smart move; it'd been a long day. I rounded the corner to bring the basement door into view. The people standing around it were starting to disperse. I quietly walked to the door and cleared my throat.

"Rick," I grumbled.

My voice was gruff. T-Dog moved out of the way for Rick to come up the stairs. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked beyond exhausted. I had already begun regretting looking out that window. I was pretty surprised Lori or Carl didn't say anything. He followed me back into the kitchen. Putting his hand down on the table, he turned up his head to look at me. Anger flashed behind his eyes.

"What," Rick said. He just stated it, like he knew something was wrong.

"There's a girl outside," I whispered, "A live one. She killed them walkers all by herself."

"What?"

He couldn't believe his ears. He walked over to a window and moved away the curtain. Nope. No walkers, Sheriff. I walked back to the window next to the door. She was sitting in the back of the pickup, cleaning off her knife. Rick came up next to me, his eyes set on the girl. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"Stay here, make sure she doesn't leave." He said, and ran off toward the basement.

I kept my eyes locked on her. Her legs hung over the end of the truck, machete in her lap. I clasped the handle of the knife in my belt and took it out to compare it to hers. Mine was, at that point, caked in dried blood, and it needed sharpening. Maybe she has something I can use for that.

All of a sudden, she hopped off the back of the truck. She looked at me. I was sure she was going to come in the house, but she turned her back to me and went into the pickup. She came out with an apple that she tossed between her hands. She slammed the car door shut, then returned to the back of her truck. Only this time, she was facing me. She was obviously waiting for me to come out and say hi. Luckily for me, Rick came back with T-Dog, Shane and Glenn.

"What's the plan?" Glenn asked.

Rick looked at me, then back at Glenn.

"You and Shane are gonna go grab Andrea and Dale and get them into the house. T-Dog, that means you and me are gonna go talk to her," He loaded his gun. "Daryl, that means you're gonna sit this one out."

They all looked at me like they were sure I was gonna flip a shit; Shane in particular. He opened his mouth to say something, but I just nodded and walked away. Truth is, I was tired. I didn't have the energy to argue. It had been a long few days; blacking out, saving Carol, killing Hershel. I walked into the room they put me in when Blondie shot me, ready to sleep. When I opened the door, I almost had a heart attack.

Carol was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, looking at me. She smiled.

"Hi," she squeaked.

I didn't answer her. I just stood in the doorway, not knowing how to feel, or what to do. Looking at her, I realized something. I'm scary. Cold. Angry. I didn't want to be like Ed, and here I am - exactly like him. I stared into her eyes. Pity. Empathy. Understanding. I didn't need pity from anybody. I could feel my temper starting to flare up, but before I could protest, Carol was wrapping her arms around my torso.

For the third time that day, we stood together, locked in each other's arms. The difference was that it was for my sake, not Carol's. Both of us knew that. I squeezed my eyes closed and held her tighter. Memories flooded into my brain and came into focus behind my eyelids.

I wake up screaming for the 4th time that week. I tremble as tears stream down my face. I feel her arms around me.

"It's okay," she whispers.

But it's not. I've been dealing with the same nightmare for months now. Dad comes home drunk. Beats her. It's more like memories than a nightmare. Generally, I only hear her whimpering, but I've seen her get hit. I can't take it anymore. Any day, she could die because of him. I turn around to face her. She smiles at me through the dark. I put my hand on her face and run my fingers over the bump on the side of her head.

"I love you, Ma."

"I love you, too," she kisses my forehead and holds me until I fall back to sleep.

Carol suddenly let go of me and walked back a few paces. It had to be instinctual, because I grabbed her by the waist and kissed her cheek. Immediately, I wished I could take it back. My body tensed, but my hands stayed glued to her. She looked up at me and put her hand on my face.

'I-I…" I stuttered, trying to find the words I wanted to say.

"What was that for?" she asked with confusion.

In vain, I kept my mouth shut for a little while, trying to keep my guard up. I racked my brain, trying to find something to say to her - something to rationalize what I'd done.

"Everything." I said, before I could stop myself.

To my surprise, she leaned up and kissed my lips gently. Totally shocked, I pulled away and looked down at her smiling face. Despite my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute and my heart pounding in my ears, I couldn't help but smile too.

For once since the world went to hell, something felt right.