From the ending of episode 2, "BloodLetting" to the middle of episode 3 "Save the Last One".
When I was 16, my neighbor ran over my bike. Mom felt it was time to upgrade to a car because she was tired of driving everyone around and only driving herself to work and the grocery store. "Your sisters can babysit you. I'm ready for a party," she said as she leaned over the sewing machine, working on some quilt for Mildred, a lady from her church.
"Party?" I retorted and opened a bottle of cream soda. "Church party?"
She hesitated, sighed, and gave me a disapproving look. "Does it look like I can go clubbing? Don't you dare use the coffee table to open those bottles. I paid good money for it!"
Yeah, right. She bought it at the thrift store, the same day I had the flu when I passed out and broke the old table. "What kind of party then, Mom?"
She never answered. A week later, my older sis giggled at finding erasers and lipsticks shaped like…. You know what. She continued going to parties and I was left in a state of ignorant bliss.
Driving a car down the backroads was easy. Driving a car in the middle of rush hour and parallel parking during lunch sent me into a spiraling descent of madness. Mom's car was a nice one; she worked a second job to pay for it. Then I ran over an inflatable dog at the Taco Bell and crashed into the curb and suddenly I couldn't drive it anymore; I never told her about Burger King's flowers. Then, my Aunt Candy loaned me her old '98 Buick with a heater that never shut off, a missing driver's side window, and a horn that got stuck on me a few times. Whenever it rained, my pizza coworkers said, "Everyone, roll your windows up. Glenn, get the plastic out." It finally squeaked its mortal coil and went to Car Hell.
Carol's Cherokee reminded me of the old Buick but not as bad. I had to drive T-Dog to this farm. If we didn't get help for his arm, he was going to die. I don't want to think about that.
I was pretty ticked at Dale for volunteering me to drive in the dark and try to find this place. My Korean eyes aren't equipped for nighttime exploring, like I don't have night vision lens, or X-ray vision, or "Asian superpowers activate!" or something. T-Dog said I ran over a skunk, and three deer crossing the road scared the crap out of me. The last thing I needed was explaining to Carol why dead deer was all over her car. But then again, we could have deer for dinner. What if the deer wasn't dead and I had to put it out of its misery though? That's not as easy as you think. It's an innocent deer.
I saw spots of blood on the porch steps. Every step closer to the house made me nervous. I get a little chuckle out of knowing I was scared to ring the bell, or knock on the door. I knocked on doors for a living. T wasn't amused by it, and it was understandable, with an infected cut and all. He marched up the steps, but a sweet voice stopped us. There she was: Senorita Zorro, Cool Cowgirl. Generous Hostess, Maggie Greene. She made me a ham and cheese sandwich, and somehow knew I liked mayonnaise and mustard on it.
Little Carl lay on the bed in the far room, hanging on to a thread of his life. I told Rick if there was anything they needed, we were there, but what else could I say? I know Carl will pull through, and give it him damnedest. Rick and Lori can't lose him. We can't lose him.
So I've never dealt with emotional pain well. I can't remember a time when I had a close relative or friend die. Could life have been saving my turns for this huge disaster now? I still feel angry, but not at Dale anymore. Going to church never appealed to me; Mom did it, my younger sis too, but I stopped going after I was twelve. Mom prayed for everyone and everything. She always tried to coax me back in the temple but I never did. I'm not sure what pushed me to sit on the porch alone and pray tonight. Is there a certain way to pray? Choice words to use? Pray from a different part of your heart? A ritual? I did it anyways. It was the first time I had peace to pray and it felt like the right thing to do.
Maggie Greene interrupted me, and I was a little frayed. I came across as a complete turd, but I felt a little violated. She said a sweet thing to me. Said I needed to make it okay somehow, no matter happens. No matter what happens. I think I needed that. I've calmed down some.
Oh god, Maggie just asked what I was writing and she walked over here. She smells like apple pie and hay. It occurred to me I probably shouldn't talk about her in here. I shouldn't talk about anybody, the ones who are in close vicinity, which is everyone, now that I think about it. I think I should use codenames from now on. Glaggie Meene? No, she'll figure that out.
It doesn't matter.
I heard talk of Shane and a fellow named Otis going after medical supplies. They've been gone all day, and time is running out for Carl. There's a lot of noise and clattering around now. Whimpers. Crying. This is hard. This is really hard.
People are moving in a different rhythm now. Heard a truck pull up.