Hussy- Soon. Very soon.
MelkS- Daryl gets lonely too…just kidding. I was definitely not insinuating that his crotch was in her face. The thought makes me laugh (the moment I read that, all I could think of was stripper Daryl), but still definitely not what was going on. I took that portion of the story from something that happened to me a couple weeks ago. Basically, my older brother thought it would be funny to pester me while I was sleeping (you know how the usual gag is to put shaving cream in their hand, then tickle their nose? Usually with their fingers or feathers. Same concept, minus the shaving cream). He was bent over my bed and my first reaction was to punch. Aaaand I ended up punching him in the nether regions. Not on purpose, of course. I guess it's my fault for not specifying what he was touching her with, but because she was sleeping she would never know either. But I will say that it was not his crotch. No matter how funny that seems.
The only other thing I really lamented about the apocalypse was the rate at which boredom reared its ugly head. There were only so many things you could do for amusement so many times before you were sure your head would explode.
That's exactly how I felt. I'd rinsed and repeated so many times that I was sure my head would blow up into a million little pieces.
I'm sure Daryl felt the same way: his 'parts' were still sore from earlier that morning, and hadn't moved from his seating arrangement since. It hurt him to walk, so he sat and glared at me for the rest of the afternoon.
His elder brother was still gone. Probably to find something to kill for a meal. If not, with Daryl immobilized and all, I would have to be the one to leave camp and find something if he didn't return soon. I started to gather my things, just in case.
I sat down near Daryl and laced my boots.
"Where you goin'?"
"Someone's gotta feed us. Merle isn't back yet, so I assume it'll have to be me."
He started to sit up.
"Don't be dumb. I can go."
"Nah. Stay here and rest. I got this."
"Whatever you say. Just don't-"
He stopped talking and nudged me out of his view.
"Hey! You better get outta here before I come over there and whoop your ass!"
I turned.
"Who the hell are you talking to?"
"Someone's over there watchin' us!"
I loaded my bow and drew it back on my way over to the bush. As soon as I got close, something popped out and ran back into the woods. I darted in after it.
"Wait!" Daryl yelled.
I didn't wait. I scrambled after it. The greens and browns of the forest blurred by my peripheral vision. Branches smacked me in the face and left small scratches. I huffed and puffed my way through the woods, trying my best to concentrate on the footprints and my surroundings. Whatever I was following was very quick on its feet. I was trying very hard to remember the tracking lessons the brothers had taught me. They were really coming in handy now.
Suddenly, the footprints stopped.
"Merle taught you how do deal with this. What did he tell you to do? Think!"
I had a flashback of a particular day when Merle had gone out into the forest to make prints while I stayed at camp and waited. He'd done the same thing: made the tracks stop at a random point.
"How did I solve this last time?"
I stepped back a couple of feet to see exactly where they stopped. I leaned down to get a better look at the tracks. It was a very small boot print. I knew at that point I was either following a kid, or a very small person.
I heard Merle's voice ringing in my ears.
"Concentraaaate,"his voice sang. "Listen."
I did what imaginary Merle said, I stood up and I listened to my surroundings. I heard the wind making the trees sway, birds chirping, the dead off in the distance, my own heart beating, and breathing. Very small panicked breaths. But from where? I lowered my chin to my chest, and listened harder.
"Merle was hiding in one of the trees behind me."
My eyes flew open. I pulled back the bow again and aimed it up a tree to the left of me.
"Get down here!"
At first, there was silence. I thought for a moment I may have been wrong, but then I heard the leaves begin to rustle. It was coming down very slowly. I was getting impatient, but I knew it was best to hold. Eventually, a boot emerged from the tree, along with the rest of the small being climbing out. I held my stance and kept my sights on it, just in case.
When it turned from the tree, I saw one of the little boys from the quarry camp. I lowered my bow.
"What the hell?" I said puzzled. "What are you doing out here?"
He kept his wide eyes on my bow. He thought I was going to shoot him.
"I just wanted to see your guys' camp."
"Huh. Okay, well you saw it. Your mom's probably freaking out by now. I'll take you back to our camp, then we'll borrow Daryl's truck to get back to yours."
His face turned a bit paler when I'd mentioned Daryl
"That guy won't be mad?"
"He'll get over it. He looks scarier than he is."
He smiled at me.
"Okay."
He walked next to me on our way back to camp.
"How did you make it this far without walking into any geeks?"
"I didn't, I mean, I did, but I snuck past."
"Don't tell your mother that, uh, what was your name again?"
"Carl."
"Well, Carl, I-"
I stopped and put my hand in front of the boy to stop him as well. I heard a very familiar sound. With it, came a very familiar smell. There was a group of walkers coming our way.
"What do we do?" Carl asked.
"Don't panic. Just…run. C'mon let's go."
Don't panic. I had to keep telling myself that as well.
I turned us around, and once again, we were on the run. The dead were slow, but they could catch up rapidly if we went any slower than a jog. Once again the brush and branches scratched at our skin, making the old scratches longer and wider.
I could hear more geeks in our area; they were attracted to the noise we were making, and most likely our smell. It was like they were coming from every direction. The groans circled around us.
Eventually, Carl started to lag behind. We had to stop so we could catch our breath. Carl bent over and panted as he grabbed his knees. I leaned my back against a tree to rest. I could still hear them approaching in the distance.
I looked around the forest to see our options. Carl did the same.
"Hey!" He exclaimed.
He was pointing off into the distance.
"Is that a house?"
It was! I turned towards him.
"That's where we're going until they clear out."
There was a walker behind him.
"Duck!"
I pulled a pistol from my jeans and shot it in the head.
"Let's get to the house. That gunshot is going to send them here."
We jogged up to the front porch of the house. I pulled out my knife and handed it to Carl.
"Use it only if you have to. Right in the head."
He was terrified.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I have to go in and make sure there's none of them in there. Don't move from this porch. I'll only be a minute."
He nodded.
I lifted my bow and scoped out the house. Nothing downstairs. I felt the stairs creak under my boots as I ran up. I checked the rooms as quickly as I could.
Then I heard Carl yell from the front porch. I jumped down the stairs and ran to the front door. There they were, stumbling towards the house. I picked off all but one with my bow.
"Get in the house!" I yelled to Carl.
He ran inside without hesitation. I ran in behind him, and slammed the door shut.
"Back away from the door."
Carl stood on the stairs, still holding the knife. The last walker was pounding on the front door. I went to the stairs to sit with Carl.
"You okay?" I asked.
"I think so."
I heard the floorboards creak upstairs. The boy and I sat there, frozen and terrified, staring up at the stairs. I knew what was coming down, but I hoped it was something else. The creaking came closer to the top of the stairs. I stepped in front of Carl. Two more moaning floorboards, and there it was. It was a dead man in boxer shorts. He took one step and started to tumble down the stairs towards us. I almost pushed Carl off of the stairs in an attempt to get us down quickly.
We backed ourselves into the kitchen and watched as the walker started to get up again. I looked into the kitchen to find something to save us. I had no arrows, and I didn't want to use the gun; it would only attract more. I wanted Carl to keep the knife, just in case. There had to be more knives in the kitchen. As I searched frantically, I noticed a bathroom just off to the side. I quickly opened it asked Carl to get inside. As soon as I did, the geek came up behind me. Carl screamed and threw the knife at it. The knife stuck into its neck and it fell forward into me, and I fell into the bathroom. I crashed into a mirror that made up an entire wall. The glass shattered, and large chunks of glass rained down.
When I tried to get up, I rolled over a very large shard. It cut deep into my side and let out a generous quantity of blood. I screamed in pain and looked over at the geek. It was still coming.
Carl was in the bathtub with his face covered. It was getting closer and closer to me. My body wouldn't move. I screamed and cried out as I waited for it to close its jaw around my flesh. I squeezed my eyes shut. Hot tears stung the scratches on my face.
"Carl! You have to run! Now!"
He didn't budge.
The geek's hands touched my frozen body. It screeched before opening its mouth wide and bending towards my arm. I braced myself for more pain.
Then, what I can only describe as the holiest of miracles. A large boot came down and smashed the walker's head open. I looked up to see Merle with his shotgun in hand. He pulled the walker out of the bathroom by its feet and got on one knee in front of me.
"What we got here? This is a bad time to be nappin'."
I sat up and wrapped my arms around his neck. The pain from my side intensified. I buried my head in his chest and wept. He leaned down and picked me up, then turned to Carl who was still in the tub.
"C'mon boy. Get outta there."
Merle carried my broken body across the kitchen and set me down on the kitchen counter. As I set my head down on the cold granite, he looked down at his hands and saw that they were covered in blood. His face flushed.
"Did you get bit?"
I shook my head no.
He went around the other side of the kitchen counter to look at my wound. He pulled apart either side of my jacket to get a better view.
"How much further to your camp?" he asked Carl.
"I-I'm not sure, ten minutes maybe?"
Merle went into the living room and tore the curtains down from the window. He ripped it into sections and came back to the kitchen.
"Sit up."
I sat up; he unzipped my bloody jacket and tossed it to the floor. Afterwards, he pressed on my chest so I'd lie back down.
"I gotta pull the rest of the glass out. This ain't gonna feel good."
He turned and handed one of the strips of curtain to Carl.
"Put this in her mouth and pull down. Screamin' is gonna attract more of those things."
Carl's eyes looked as if they'd pop out of his head. He looked towards me.
"It's okay," I said.
He came to the head of the counter and did what Merle had asked him. He pulled the dusty curtain into my mouth and held down.
When Merle said it wasn't going to feel good, it was the understatement of the year. He held down my left arm and pulled at the glass with his other hand. My body twitched and my legs kicked. I screamed for him to stop, but he kept going.
When the pain became too much to bare, I passed out.
