As she lays sleepin' I just watch her. I don't worry 'bout our eyes meetin' or the way my heart falters when that happens. I memorize all her features. I notice her eyelids twitch while she dreams. Her lashes flutter against the tired, purple skin below her eyes. She really should sleep more. Her lips are pink an' open just slightly. The skin of her neck is smooth, an' her shoulders are perfectly relaxed. My hands cover my face an' I take a deep breath, usin' the opportunity to think things over.
I didn't get much sleep, but it musta been restful. I vaguely remember a dream. Not so much the place or what was happenin'. More like who I was with. I look at her sleepin' figure an' I could just picture her crawlin' out from my dream. I try to wrap my head 'round what's goin' on. I ain't ever dreamt 'bout no girl before. Even in my fuckin' sleep I'm consumed by her. I get up quietly as I can. Need to clear my head an' there ain't no better way than to go out an' kill somethin'. 'Sides, we could use some food. I barely get fifty feet away when I bag a woodchuck. I keep goin'.
It's cool this mornin' an' quiet out here. I make my way through the brambles with my bow raised. Out here, I don't have to think. I just have to hunt. I see a descent in the path ahead of me an' approach it slowly. Sure as shit, I've found a gully. An' ain't it just my luck...
Right there in the middle, up to its knees in mud, stands a walker. One ugly son of a bitch. He's just caught sight of me an' he's tryin' his damnedest to get at me. Stupid bastard. He's growlin' an carryin' on. I lift my bow. "Shut the fuck up." The arrow flies silently an' penetrates just between the eyes an' he drops, head just within reach from a dry spot of dirt. When I go to retrieve it I take a closer look at the fucker. Ugly was an understatement. His face was all ripped to hell an' he was missin' his left arm. I wipe the arrow on my pants leg an' carry on.
What's goin' through my head? I can't stop thinkin' 'bout yesterday; 'bout last night. My fingers graze 'cross my side. I can still feel her arms wrapped 'round me. The thought of that moment makes my pulse quicken. The pretty girl holdin' me together. The one who looks past the dark in me to see whatever light may be there. I have no clue what it is I'm feelin', an' I ain't sure where to go from here. Just lookin' at her sleepin' earlier tore me apart. I could never be enough. I could protect her an' I could feed her. But what more can I offer? I don't know how to be what someone like her needs. She needs a light in the dark, not the dark itself. An' that's all I am- darkness, a black hole of a soul. How could she not see a monster when she looks at me, 'specially after my jackass behavior yesterday.
But then I think 'bout last night. Talkin' like two people who always knew each other. Burnin' down that shack to reduce our pain to ashes. An' then we made camp. Out of nowhere she starts goin' on 'bout learnin' to hunt. An' I feel a rush all over me. This was somethin' I could share with her. The look on her face when I went to hand her the bow worried me. Like she was afraid of me, like all she could see was that heartless son of bitch who crushes hopes an' wishes.
Then I think 'bout her holdin' my bow. How she looked like an angel of death an' how I thought my chest was gonna burst open from the poundin' of my heart at the sight of her. A warm sensation runs through me when I think back to standin' behind her. Feelin' her pressed back against me. The way her hair smelled when I leaned in to tell her what to do. I can still see the flush on her face over my closeness. An' when that bolt struck the mark, when she let out a laugh an' was just so fuckin' happy 'bout what she did, I allowed myself to hold her gaze. A rush of emotion flooded through me, then. At first I was just damned proud of her. But it was immediately replaced with somethin' I'm unsure of. Somethin' much larger than pride.
I look 'round an' realize I made my way back to camp. An' all I got is a fuckin' rodent. Son of a bitch. I peer into the tent at her sleepin' silently. She don't even know I was gone. Almost immediately she stirs, an' I shift my gaze so it's not obvious that I watched her. She's sittin' up now. I look over at her an' she blushes.
"You still wanna learn huntin' an' trackin' today?" I'm thinkin' 'bout what little food we have left, couple squirrels, an owl an' now a pathetic little woodchuck. We'd be set if we can find that fuckin' deer. Now's as good a time as ever to train her.
"You're serious? You don't mind teachin' me?" She's surprised. I figured the first lesson last night went well. Suddenly I remember the way her breathin' hitched when I spoke in her ear. Judgin' by the flush of her cheeks, I imagine she's rememberin' that, too.
"Course I'm serious. I better watch out, though. Apparently you're gonna be showin' me up today." She laughs at my attempt at humor. The sound resonates in the tent an' clings to my chest. She gets up an' we pack all our shit away. I grab hold of the bag, hand her the bow an' we head out.
For the first hour or so, I have to keep remindin' her to be quiet. I've got her on a trail now. It's a walker 'round here somewhere. She pauses in front of the telltale signs. She seems frustrated. "What're we trackin'?" I can't always hand her the answers. She'll have to figure everything out for herself. I'm a little gruff.
"You tell me. You're the one that wanted to learn."
She keeps movin' along the trail. "Well, somethin' came through here." It almost sounds doubtful. "The pattern's all zig-zaggy. It's a walker." She's visibly excited. I tell her it may be a drunk. "I'm gettin' good at this. Pretty soon I won't need you at all." She speaks so lightly of the prospect of us losin' each other. I'll never understand this girl. I tell her to keep on trackin'. We get to the forest line when she spots her walker. He's bent over a deer an' rage courses through me. That disease-bearin' motherfucker is gnawin' away at what was our best chance of food. I pull myself together an' return my focus to Beth; the rage lets up. It's a strange thing.
She says it's got a gun. Good eye. I motion for her to move in for the kill. This is it. I've taught her the basics of huntin' an' trackin' an' we're 'bout to see it pay off. She creeps carefully towards it. Suddenly I see her buckle, she lets out a cry an' falls to the ground. My heart stops.
I run to her as the walker comes at her, alerted by her cryin' out. She shoots an arrow into his face. Not a kill shot. I grab the bow from her an' connect it full force to the bastard's head. I stumble back to where she's fallen. A sick feelin' rises in my throat when I see her foot in a trap. I get down next to her an' pry it off. Thankfully it's a smaller one. If it were a bear trap we woulda had a lot more to worry 'bout. I touch her ankle gently's I can. She flinches an' lets out a harsh breath. It's definitely gonna swell up. But she can stand an' we need to get somewhere safer so I can take a better look at it an' figure out how to help her. I get her to support her weight on my right side, her left arm around my shoulders. Even in this situation, the warm feelin' washes over me at our contact.
We get through the clearin' an' come to the entrance of a cemetery. Beth asks me to wait up, she says she needs to sit down for a moment. I look 'cross the cemetery an' spot a buildin'. It's not much further, but I know she shouldn't put weight on her foot. There's only one thing to do. I put my bow 'round my front, bend my knees an' tell her to hop on my back. It's obvious that she weren't expectin' no piggy back ride. When she asks if I'm serious I just shrug it off an' tell her it's a serious piggy back. She gets on an' wraps her arms 'round my neck an' hooks her legs 'round my hips. I don't know what to make of the way I feel at this exact moment. Part of me is content havin' her clingin' to me. The other part is a little anxious at the contact. I don't know when that fine line will just fade away, but I tread it lightly.
We get a little ways when she starts to loosen her grip an' 'fore I know it she's dropped offa my back an' stopped in front of a grave. It doesn't take long to see what drew her attention. Beloved Father is etched on the headstone. I can see the pain in her eyes, but I'm lost on how to help her. I don't look at that stone with remorse. Beloved fathers ain't exactly somethin' I know too much 'bout. But this hits her hard, an' I know I gotta do somethin'. Outta the corner of my eye I see flowers. They aren't much, but I pick some to place on the stone.
Beth leans into me an' I feel her small hand fold into mine, her fingers linked delicately between my own. I've never been one to hold hands, come to think of it, I don't think I ever held nobody's hand . Closeness was never somethin' I wanted to attempt. But in that moment, I can feel her tryin' to pull some strength from me. I know the gesture can't mean more than that to her. But I let my mind run wild with the thought of her wantin' to lean against me, lockin' her hand tightly in mine an' havin' it mean more than sympathy.