"Cherokee Rose"
You can add a well to the odd places where we find walkers.
Not as soon as I finished the last entry, T-dog and Dale ran back from the wells telling us about a major problem. Ol' Stinky McLardBag was sitting all nice and ugly in our drinking water. Yummy. T suggested someone blow its brains out, but that's a good idea, and we hate those. Tried lowering a chunk of ham for it to eat, but that was too easy for it.
I have this nervous twitch where I tuck my tongue behind my lower lip. I never noticed it until today when everyone gave me questionable stares after suggesting throwing some live bait down there.
Hi, my name is Glenn, and I'm the poor bastard they wrapped a rope around and lowered down there. Oh, why would you do that, Glenn the Poor Bastard? Because there's nothing else to do at two in the afternoon. No happy hours around, so why not enjoy the company of a walker with gills? Maybe we would get to know each other, maybe draw a truce between our teams. Team Living vs. Team Dead. Team Breathing vs. Team Rigor Mortis. The living part is important, I told them. Very important.
Man, I really tried to talk my way out of it. I even complimented Shane's shaved head, which was hard to do. I can see my reflection in it, it's so short. He just sneered at me, patted me on the back, and wished me luck. I even begged T-Dog to let me run into several towns and find his ice cream. Dale didn't budge, either.
Maggie gave me a disapproving look before I climbed down. I pretty much knew what she was thinking.
Okay, there are a few things I won't write about in here. I didn't write about the CDC… it still haunts me. We had it all for one night and then it blew into the sky along with Jenner and Jackie. Dale and Andrea almost died. Well, this is another one of those times. I was terrified in that well. Can't shake off the feeling of being in such a tight space with a walker. I could have died, very nearly came close to it when the damn pipe ripped out of the ground and all of them on the surface struggled with my rope!
I have bile coming back up in my throat just thinking about it.
They got my skinny ass out of the well, but that was enough excitement for me. I still had a pharmacy run to do, too!
"How else are we going to do this?" Andrea asked, eyeing the well with disgust. Everyone fell silent.
I said between panicked breaths, "How about using a buggy of some kind, a pulley?"
"What about a horse?" T-Dog is a bright fella. We should listen to him more often. In fact, when he suggested putting a bullet through its head the first time, we should have taken the advice. Saved a few years of my life.
We got the asshole out of the well, sort of. It got stuck and then ripped in half, with the bottom half and all of the yummy entrails and blood falling back into the well. God, it stunk. I silently gagged and rolled in the dirt.
T put all of his frustration into smashing the walker's head. He really wasn't having a good day. He needed ice cream.
Maggie. The look on her face. She had never seen anyone be so vicious to one of these things. I think I'll talk to her on the horse ride and get her mind off it. First, I need to get on the horse and learn to stay on it. I'm sure she'll get a kick out of me flapping around and muttering to the horse, pleading with it to stay still and be a good horse.
I think I really do like her. Not just because she's around my age, but she seems like a strong woman, capable of taking care of herself. I'm on her side. I'm sure she doesn't want to hear that. That's lame.
Now, women like smooth talkers. I can tell her how I used to run into Atlanta by myself and slip past all the geeks and then I'll be heroic in her eyes instead of a dude who can't plant the first seed in a garden.