Chapter Twelve~ Voice on the Wind
A/N: Sorry, it took me a minute to update. I've had so much crap going on that it's been crazy. Writer's block sucks, the struggle is real people. Anyway, finally made myself sit down and start typing. Keep in mind that I don't usually plan out my stories, with the exception of a few key points, so they tend to go off in random directions that I didn't see at first...hence some of my bunny trails. Anyway, to the story! Read and review.
Diane and Daryl were sent by Rick to scout ahead and hunt while the others rested for a bit. If they found anything worth trying for, they were to come back and lead the group there. It was getting late, the sun just beginning to dip low in the sky. If they didn't find something soon, they would have to turn back and tell the group of their failure. Neither of them were wearing helmets, as it would restrict their vision in the case of an attack. Plus, they made for difficulty spotting anything off the sides of the road. Diane was contemplating what it would mean if they never found a safe place. She and her group had been on the move since almost the very beginning, so she knew what it did to moral when there wasn't some kind of stability but the people around you. As they sped down the road, the ends of Diane's hair snapping against the base of her neck, she wondered...what it would be like to have something like it was before. Of course, she knew that it would never be just like before the turn, but just the thought of stability and a chance to have a family again.
"Hey!" Daryl tapped her arm over his stomach, getting her attention. Once he did, he pointed to a break in the trees. It was a town, small, and similar to the one back towards Hershel's farm. It looked mostly intact. The hunter turned his head to his riding companion enough to see her nod. He slowed the bike, then put his foot to the ground to smoothly guide it in a tight U-turn. It would take them nearly thirty minutes to make it back to the group, so he gunned it. Neither of them were particularly chatty, which was perfectly ok with both of them. Daryl had no desire to be caught up in a conversation, especially when the wind would end up carrying most of the words away. Likewise, Diane was too tired and wrapped up in her own mind to bother with talking, considering that she knew he didn't want to either.
By the time they got back, the others had stopped for a moment to try to find some water. When they heard the bike coming, all of them jolted up, running to meet them with Rick at the head. As soon as the engine was cut, Diane was off and bombarded by questions.
"Did you find anything?" Rick asked.
"Did you bring any food?"
"Did you run into any trouble?"
"Was there a lot of walkers in the way?"
"Is there any chance of getting some place safe?"
"Hold on a damn minute, y'all." Daryl growled. "We was about to tell ya, if you'd give a chance to breathe." In his usual surly way, he scoffed as he swiped the canteen Diane was drinking from, ignoring her choked expression of 'What the hell?'
She shook her head and turned back to the group. "There's a small town about half an hour out. Looked like it hasn't been touched for a while. Figure we pick a place to clear out, hole up there tonight, go through it more thoroughly tomorrow after we've all had a chance to rest. There were some cars from what we could see, so maybe we could siphon off some gas while we're there."
Rick nodded, "Good, good. Alright, let's get packed up. We head out in five." Then the sheriff placed a hand on the woman hunter's shoulder. "Y'all did good. You ok with ridin' with Daryl a little longer?"
Diane shook her head with a light laugh. "I don't mind, but you might want to ask Grumpy over here." She pointed over her shoulder at Daryl, who threw her the bird at the nickname.
"Long as I get another box o' cigs, don't bother me none." He pulled out one of the last cigarettes and then shook the box at her to make his point.
"Alright then, Grumpy, soon as we set up camp, I dig you out another box, 'kay?"
"Don't call me that."
"Then don't call me Max." She said simply as she sat back on his bike.
The group ended up picking out an apartment over an old law firm, which it didn't take much to clear it out, because there was only a few walkers meandering the halls. These must have been those few people that had chosen not to leave, and got stuck up there, or maybe someone opted out, ended up changing. A few of them had bites, others looked like they had starved to death. But, the group outnumbered them, even with just the main runners of it. Obviously, Lori was no longer allowed to do any kind of hunting, gathering, or killing if she could help it, Leah too.. Carl, Beth, and Hershel stayed back with her for the reasons of being too young and too old. Carol stayed as well, since she was just not the best at killing walkers. Robert had opted to stay behind so that they had a fighting chance if something did happen. That left Rick, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, T-dog, Diane, and Collin.
Didn't take long. The others were trudging up the stairs before more than fifteen minutes had passed. T-dog, Daryl, and Collin had taken it upon themselves to take all the bodies and dump them over the side of the stairs, down into a pile at the side of the building. Settling on the first room they came to, everyone threw down their blankets while Rick and Diane searched for food.
"Nothin'. It's been picked through just like everything else." Rick sighed and leaned against the counter.
"Oh, I don't think so." Diane was smirking as she tugged on what looked like a loose plywood panel on a closet door. It creaked and screeched as she pulled the nails out a few at a time. Everyone came into the room to see what she was doing. Once she was done, she smiled. "Hell, yeah!" She opened the door all the way so they could see the packets of ready rice and powdered sauce taped to the inside of the door.
"How..." Lori, like everyone else, was stunned. "How could you possibly know..."
Diane held up a finger, a conspiratorial grin on her face. "First rule of prepping, never leave your shit where people can find it. For every fifteen minutes it take you to hide something, it'll take someone else an hour to find it. Unless they know what to look for." She started ripping the tape away, throwing the packets to everyone as she did.
Rick was thoroughly impressed. "Alright, I'll bite. What else you got?" The others agreed, even Daryl.
"Ok, other than loose boards on doors and floors, another place people usually overlook are air vents." She moved to the other side of the room, unlatching the vent. Opening it revealed a hidden cache of mason jars filled with canned foods. She handed them out, everyone marveling at the amount of food that could be hidden in such a small place. "Collin, go in the bedroom and check under the bed. Rob, tear the shit outta that chair and see what goodies these lovely people left for us." She tossed the younger brother her serrated knife, which he used to rip into the places that looked to anyone else like patches that were used to mend an old chair. Sure enough, there were a bunch of tiny bottles of alcohol, some candy bars, and a bunch of stationary.
"Sis, I didn't find anything under the bed." Collin was using his hands to lean through the doorway.
"Did you actually check the bottom of the bed, or did you just look at the space?"
"Uh...just the space."
"Exactly, get you a knife and tear that sucker open." To everyone else, she said, "Check the tank of the toilet, people like to put stuff in baggies and hide them in the water. Maybe they even hid some stuff in the pipelines, so try those, too. Backs of furniture, undersides of drawers, and anything that looks like even the smallest amount of stuff can be hid. Good preppers are experts at protecting their stash." Suddenly she was giggling like a schoolgirl.
"The hell's wrong with her?" Daryl asked Robert.
"I think she's just excited that she finally gets to use all that information that the rest of us thought was stupid before the turn. Sorry." The dark boy said.
"What for?"
"My sister's weird. She gets excited about weird things, like prepping." He shrugged. They were settling down around the living room. "To be honest, all of us thought she was crazy before things went to shit."
"Robert, watch your language." Leah chastised.
"Sorry, mom. But, seriously, sis has always been a little strange. I'm not complaining, though. She's kept us alive this far. It was her that actually taught me and Collin how to do most of the things we know. Michael just kinda expected us to know how to do it all without...y'know. But, sis taught us," he pulled a worn paperback out of his back pocket. "This was one of the books she had bought before. It was a birthday present two years ago. Afterwards, people cleared out everything else, trying to learn quickly so they didn't die."
Daryl took the book to look at the cover. "Too bad it didn't do much to help 'em." On the cover, it showed a worn picture of a knife, a compass, and a fire. The title read Special Forces Survival Guide: Wilderness Survival Skills From The World's Most Elite Military Units. "Hmm. Kinda a weird thing to give a kid for a birthday."
"Like I said, she's weird. You can borrow it if you want. I've read all the way through it. You might even learn something you didn't already know." He was answered by a non-commental grunt. Knowing that it was the best he'd get out of him, he went about his business.
"Jackpot!" Collin yelled from the other room, only to be hushed by everyone else. "Sorry! Sis, check this out!" The older Stringer boy came in with an armful of bandages, ointment, aspirin, and a giant first aid kit. On top, there was a variety of jerky in plastic bags labeled. Maggie had come back in from the bathroom with a handgun and a couple of mags wrapped in plastic and taped shut. All around the house, people were pulling this and that, from knives to medicine, toothpaste to cookies, out of random nooks and crannies. Soon they had a rather delightful pile in the middle of the floor. For the first time in a week, they would go to bed with full bellies, in a safe place.
Diane noticed Lori looking around, shifting uncomfortably in her spot by her son. Knowing that look, Diane got up to grab some cat litter she had found in the closet. As she passed the older woman, she tapped her shoulder and motioned with her head to follow her. They went into the bathroom, some of the group watching them curiously. Stopping only a moment, Diane also grabbed some trash bags out of her bag. Once in the bathroom, Diane turned to Lori.
"Pregnancy sucks." Lori looked at her wide eyed. "I remember how it was, even in the early months. Water goes right through you, gotta pee constantly. We don't have any water to spare for flushing the toilet, so we'll have to make do." She used the toilet seat to hold a trash bag open in the bowl, then she scooped a couple handfuls of cat litter into the bottom. "Here. When you get done, just put another handful or so, enough to cover your business." Diane smiled kindly at her, then made to leave. Lori stopped her.
"Thank you. I know I haven't done anything to deserve anything from anyone. But, thank you."
"We're a group, Lori. We have to look out for one another." Glancing at the toilet, she said, "Do your thing." With that, she left, closing the door behind her.
