A new year, a new computer, a new chapter. Slow and steady wins the race, or so I'm told.
Ember
Chapter 21 - Soft Glow
Perched on a fallen log, miles away from service road eighty-seven, Carol lifted her face away from their small campfire to gaze up at the night sky, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. The air was cold, and it might have been her imagination, but she thought that underneath the smoke and the scent of decaying leaves, she could detect the faintest hint of snow. There wasn't a cloud in sight, luckily, but the stars sparkled with the hard, crystal-clarity of approaching winter, and it served to remind her of what the coming months would have in store for them. Assuming, of course, that they made it that far.
Beside her, taking up most of the log, sat Tyreese, who was entertaining some of the others with a story from when Julie was a little girl. It was the sort of story that would not have been tolerated had the girl been anywhere within earshot, but as it happened, she was down by the front gate, keeping the first watch of the night with Chris and Beth.
The teens had volunteered for the shift earlier that afternoon. As a group, they'd spent the better part of the day out by the abandoned highway, shooting at targets, and under Rick and Andrea's careful tutelage, Julie, Chris and Tyreese had been taught how to handle a gun. They'd each been given a weapon from one of the big, black duffel bags that Carol had recovered on her first foray into town, and when the day's lessons were over, they'd been told to hang on to them. The kids, no doubt eager to flaunt their newly acquired status within the group, had immediately offered to take a shift on guard duty. After a few minutes consideration, Rick had decided to allow it - if a little grudgingly - with the condition that they would only be given shifts during the hours when most of the adults would still be up and about. It had been an act of pure diplomacy on Rick's part, Carol knew. The kids were safely inside the fence, and they hadn't seen any walkers around camp since Michonne had arrived with her "pets" in tow. But it gave the kids a way to contribute, to feel what it was to shoulder some of the weighty responsibility of keeping the group safe, and in a lot of ways, that was just as important as teaching them to shoot a gun.
Unfortunately, there had already been some unexpected repercussions to this experiment in maturity. Carl, who'd proven himself to be level-headed in a crisis and a crack shot to boot, was sitting on the ground by his mother's feet, glowering into the flames of their campfire. He'd tried going down to the front gate to join the older kids a few times, but had been repeatedly chased off by Chris, who had decided that the boy was too young to be considered anything but a nuisance. Carl was understandably hurt and furious about the whole thing, to say nothing of the blow to his pride. Carol feared that Chris, in his eagerness to be treated as an adult, might have unwittingly made an enemy of the boy.
It was a real shame, and she hoped it would be dealt with quickly, before any real, lingering resentment could develop between the two young men. Because up until that point, it had pleased her to see how easily Tyreese and his family had been settling in to life at the camp. As Michonne had predicted, Tyreese had quickly proven himself to be an asset to the group. Apart from his obvious strength and speed, he was smart, capable, and not at all afraid of getting his hands dirty. Just earlier that day, she'd seen him deftly take down four walkers, armed with nothing but the hammer he'd had when they'd found him. The geeks had come stumbling out of the woods by the side of the highway - the very same woods that Tyreese and his small family had stumbled out of only days before - drawn by the sound of their gunfire. It had been the high point of the day; the kids had been able to keep their fear in check enough to regard the walkers as moving targets, and had actually managed to drop a few before they reached the edge of the road. But as clips emptied and the last few drew a little too close for comfort, Tyreese had calmly pulled the hammer from his back pocket and strode out across the road to meet them. What followed had been quick and brutal, but undeniably impressive.
Still, what impressed Carol more than anything else, was that in spite of it all, Tyreese seemed to be a genuinely decent person. With a subtle tilt of her head, she glanced over at the man, who by now was deeply engrossed in his own story. His face was bright and animated, without so much as a hint of the ugliness she'd witnessed that afternoon. They'd become fast friends over the last few days. The initial fondness she'd felt for him had only deepened with the more time they spent in each other's company, and she found that she wasn't alone in this - everyone seemed to have warmed to Tyreese, even Michonne, who was still in the habit of keeping her distance from most of the group. (When she had mentioned, incredulously, how unusual this was to Tyreese, he had simply laughed and told her that they had bonded one afternoon over a shared love of basketball and weightlifting, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.)
But if anyone had taken a particular shine to the man, it was T-Dog. Before Tyreese had come along, she hadn't realized what a huge sports fanatic T was - she could only assume that this was because there hadn't been much of a reason to talk about football before - but it had become obvious over the last few days that T's admiration for the ex-ballplayer was colored with more than a touch of hero worship. Whenever there was any down time, and the two of them had an opportunity to chat, the conversation always seemed to veer off in the direction of what Tyreese liked to refer to affectionately, and with no small amount of self-deprecating irony, as his "glory days." It didn't seem to matter how much he protested that he'd been a hopeless quarterback, T-Dog couldn't get enough. He'd even gone so far as to approach Glenn and Maggie about keeping their eyes open for a football on their supply runs. Tyreese had groaned when word of this had gotten back to him, but everyone could tell that he was secretly pleased.
The thought made Carol smile. If there was anything more infectious than TS-19, it was an enthusiastic Theodore Douglas.
In fact, it was the rich, warm sound of T's laughter that drew Carol's attention back to the campfire and her companions. Tyreese was at the end of his story. She hadn't missed anything - he'd told her the same one earlier that evening, while they'd been gathering kindling out at the wooded area on the edge of the park. She'd been the one who had encouraged him to share it with the others; if for no other reason than that it was good for morale. It seemed to her that nothing brought people together quite like a shared story.
Just as Carol was thinking this, she saw something slink past out of the corner of her eye - a silent shadow, headed for the dusty, goldenrod Winnebago at the far end of camp - and in an instant, she knew that she was wrong.
There was something that connected people better than their shared histories. Surviving together. Protecting each other. Fighting side by side.
She hadn't spoken very much with Michonne outside of their training, and like everyone else, she knew almost nothing about the woman's past. But that didn't change the fact that Carol had felt a deep connection with the enigmatic swordswoman, ever since they'd escaped out that tiny, backroom window together.
The stories were lovely, and they needed to hold on to those memories for as long as they could, but sometimes words could be empty, fragile things. Sometimes actions spoke volumes where words failed.
While she was pondering this, Glenn began to tell a story of his own; One about his mother and his sisters, and how they had never given him a moment's peace. This was another story that Carol had heard before, but much like Glenn himself, it hadn't lost any of its sweetness. Still, she was only half-listening, and after a few moments, she began to notice that Tyreese was fidgeting anxiously beside her, his leg bouncing up and down with pent-up frustration. Without thinking to much about it, Carol reached over and placed a comforting hand on his knee. The leg stilled, and he turned slightly, giving her a small, pained smile of gratitude.
Carol returned the smile, patting his knee. Then, crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned in a bit and whispered, "I'll be right back."
She stood up, moving slowly, her muscles stiff from sitting so long in the cold. Nodding an unspoken apology to Glenn so as not to interrupt, she stepped away from the warm glow of the circle.
As she headed over to her trailer, she spotted Beth coming back up to the fire. She stopped for a moment to watch the girl as she made her way over to Carl and sat down close beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. After a few seconds, Beth leaned over and gently bumped her shoulder against his. When this failed to elicit any response from the sullen boy, she leaned over again and laid the side of her head against the top of his. Carol couldn't see their faces from where she stood, but she could see Lori's in profile as she gazed lovingly at the young pair, and what she saw there was encouraging.
Smiling to herself, Carol climbed the steps to her RV and quietly slipped inside. Clicking on her flashlight, she walked to the narrow hall closet and grabbed a thick, ratty blanket from the shelf. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she reached into the tiny bathroom and grabbed a few handfuls of tissue, which she stuffed into her pants pocket. Before stepping out the door, she reached back to make sure that her gun was still securely in place. She knew it was there, of course - the bit of metal resting against her back was very cold - but she still needed to be sure she could get to it in a hurry, even with the blanket. If she hadn't been so cold, she might have laughed a little - preparing herself for a trip out to the "bathroom" these days was a lot like preparing for battle.
When she was satisfied, she stepped back out to find Tyreese waiting at the bottom of her steps.
"I said I'd be right back," she said, scolding him gently.
Tyreese shrugged, offering her a rather sheepish grin, and said, "Just thought you might like some company."
Carol raised an eyebrow, making a face at him. "Um, thanks..." she said, coming down the stairs and stepping around him, "But I think I can handle going to the bathroom all by myself."
Tyreese laughed, turning to follow after her. "Aw, come on, I didn't mean anything weird by it," he protested cheerfully, "I just don't like the idea of you going out into the dark alone, especially when you'll be in such a, uh...vulnerable state."
Carol chuckled at that, and encouraged by her response, Tyreese quickened his step, pulling up beside her.
"Don't worry," he promised, "I'll be sure to keep a respectful distance. And I won't think any less of you in the morning."
"Huh. Ain't you a peach," Carol said playfully, pursing her lips.
"Well, what can I say?" Tyreese sighed with mock resignation, "My Mama raised me right. And, while we're out there, if you should suddenly find yourself in need of any assistance-"
"With what, exactly?" Carol asked dubiously, her mouth curling up in a wry smile. "My buttons?"
"Sure, sure," Tyreese said agreeably, nodding his head, "Or, you know, if you're suddenly attacked by anything... But yeah, sure, if you need help with your buttons, I'll be right there."
"Well, now, how could a girl refuse an offer like that?" she said, and they both chuckled.
"No, but seriously," he said, his tone shifting slightly, "everyone else goes out in pairs. There's no reason why you should have to, uh... go it alone."
"Oof," Carol muttered, wincing at the pun. But after a long beat of silence she said, "Well...thank you, Tyreese. That's very kind of you."
"Nah..." Tyreese assured her, "To be honest, my motives aren't as pure as I've been making them out to be."
Carol laughed again, harder this time. "Even better," she said, shaking her head.
"I was just getting pretty antsy back at camp, is all," he confessed. "This seemed like a good way to pass the time."
"You're going to need to find yourself a better hobby," she said, slowly coming to a stop. They had reached an open, grassy area out behind the last row of trailers - not far from camp, but far enough to be out of the way.
"This works," she said, handing him the flashlight and the blanket. "Here, hold these for a minute and wait right there."
"Yes, m'am," Tyreese said, draping the blanket over his forearm and turning around. "Just holler if you need anything."
Stepping carefully, Carol walked out into the middle of the field. As she crouched down in the tall grass, she called out, "You don't think there are still ticks at this time of year, do you?"
"Uh...I'm not sure," he called back. "I suppose when you're done, I could help you check..."
"Stooop!" she groaned, rolling her eyes.
After a minute or so, she stood up, zipped her pants, and began to make her way back out of the field. At the sound of her approaching footsteps, Tyreese turned back around.
"So, out with it," she said suddenly, moving to take the blanket from him. "Tell me what's been bothering you."
"Huh?" Tyreese said with a start, blinking down at her. He was so taken off guard that it was almost comical.
"It's the kids, isn't it?" she said, taking hold of the flashlight. "You're worried about them."
Tyreese shifted his weight slightly, and frowned. He looked uncomfortable.
"Is it that obvious?" he said finally.
"No," Carol said, trying to sound reassuring, "No, only to someone paying close attention."
"Oh..." Tyreese was quiet for a moment. He reached back to scratch nervously at the patch of exposed skin between the collar of his jacket and bottom of his black knit cap.
"Well...yeah," he admitted finally, "I'm a little worried. But it's not just the watch, it's the guns, too. I know things are different now, but it still scares the shit out of me. I'm afraid they're gonna do something stupid and end up hurting someone. Or, god forbid, themselves."
"You know, you should try talking to Lori about this," Carol suggested. "She's been going through the same thing with Carl. I mean, maybe she'll have answers for you, and maybe she won't, but at the very least it might be comforting to talk to someone who's been there."
"Maybe..." Tyreese said thoughtfully, mulling it over. "Yeah, maybe I'll do that. I mean, Carl seems to be doing alright."
"Usually," Carol agreed. "Though some days are better than others." She gave him a pointed look, and Tyreese sighed through his nose.
"Yeah..." he muttered, "I'm going to have to have a talk with Chris. There's no doubt in my mind that if Rick hadn't decided to let us stay here, we'd be dead by now. Picking on the man's only son seems a really shitty way to repay his trust."
"Chris doesn't strike me as a bad kid," Carol offered kindly. "I think he just desperately wants to be treated like an adult."
"Huh," Tyreese grunted derisively, "Yeah, well, then he needs to start acting like one. Don't get me wrong, I feel for the kid. He hasn't had it easy. There were a lot of issues going on at home before the walkers came - that's why he was staying with us. I know he's not a bad kid, really, he's just a pain in the ass."
"Chris is all of what, sixteen?" Carol pointed out. "He still has some growing up to do. But he'll get there."
"The way things are now, he'd better hurry up," Tyreese said grimly. "If he's going to survive, he won't have much choice."
"Then this extra bit of responsibility could be good for him, don't you think?" she asked.
Tyreese sighed. "Yeah... Yeah, you're right. I know you're right. That's why I've been biting my tongue this whole time."
Carol nodded sympathetically. "It's tough, I know."
"It was always tough," he agreed. "But talking helps. Thanks for that."
"It's nothing," she said, waving her hand dismissively. Then, gesturing toward the path with a tilt of her head, she said, "Come on, we should head back before people start worrying."
They started back down the path together in amiable silence, but after a few moments, he cleared his throat and said, "So you've been 'paying close attention' to me, huh?"
Carol inhaled sharply, her mouth popping open in mock outrage. "Don't be so pleased with yourself," she warned, "It's just easier for me to worry about your problems - it keeps me from thinking about on my own."
"I can appreciate that," he said. "It must be hard, being out here all by yourself,"
"I'm not all by myself," she objected.
"Well, no, of course not," he said, "but it seems like most of your people have partners... I just...it can get lonely, I know. That's all I'm saying."
Carol frowned slightly. "Well, yes, but-"
Without another word, or even a hint of warning, she felt Tyreese's arm slide across her back, hooking itself around her waist. In an instant she jumped back from him in surprise, twisting out of his grasp.
"Wait-" she began, but he quickly cut her off.
"I'm sorry," he said, "that was-"
"No, no, it's not that," she interjected, "it's just-"
"It's just, everything's so uncertain," he continued over her, "Any of us could die at any moment, and I don't see the point in beating around the bush. I like you, Carol. I think you like me, too. We could have some fun together, if you wanted to."
"Tyreese..." she began again slowly, not sure where to begin. "I do like you, but-"
"Moving too fast?" he hazarded.
"Yes," she sputtered, "I mean, No! Listen-"
But before Carol could get another word out, a scream of distress split the night, causing them both to look up in alarm.
"That's Julie!" Tyreese cried, and in an instant he was gone, running for the front gate. Carol chased after him, but he was much too fast for her to keep up with, and she quickly found herself left behind. By the time she made it back to the fire at the center of camp, he was already halfway down the road to the gate, pulling ahead of Rick and the others.
When she finally reached the park's entrance, she found them standing together in semi-circle with their backs to her, blocking whatever was happening from her view. Pulling her gun from her waistband, she crept up behind Glenn and T to peer between their shoulders.
The first thing she saw was that Rick and Tyreese were a little further ahead, trying to gain control of the situation. It was very dark this far from the campfire, but she could just make out what was happening down by the gate from the dim glow of her flashlight. Chris was standing with his back to the gate, and several feet away, Julie stood facing him, her gun pointed at his head.
"Daddy?" Julie whimpered, her eyes never wavering from Chris.
"You better let that boy go right now if you want to keep that arm, mister," Tyreese threatened, taking a step forward. Before he could go any further, Rick placed a hand firmly in the center of his chest - an unspoken warning to stay back. When Tyreese tried to push past him, T-Dog stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders.
It was then that Carol realized her mistake. Julie wasn't pointing the gun at Chris, she was aiming at the person standing behind him. The person who had grabbed Chris through the bars, and was holding the boy in front of themself, using him as a human shield. The owner of the very large knife that was pressed against Chris' throat.