You can't live in this wasteland we call a world without being tough. And maybe being tough is like a callus. First you blister. But then skin grows back stronger. And it continues to wear until the skin is tough. Until you're tough. Some people came in to this world tough, but they weren't born that way, they callused before, and maybe that's better for them, but maybe it isn't.
I wouldn't say I cowered in the back seat of the car, trying to pretend like I wasn't there. But I was definitely try to make them forget I was there. Back corner, on the passenger side, back pressed firmly into the seat, hands clasping my knees tightly. Then again that may have been an effort to stay sitting up against the force of the car. Daryl was roaring after the car with the white cross. Once we caught up enough, Daryl hung back, just so we'd stay unnoticed, but not so far back that we could lose them.
This is wrong. I'm not supposed to be here. This wasn't supposed to happen. We were just supposed to bring Carol back, show back up before anyone noticed us gone. Now they'll notice, they'll notice big time. And Carl... I told him I'd be right over.
Goddammit! Why did I leave!
But Beth. We're gonna bring back Beth, so leaving's not all bad, right?
Watch.
The blackness of trees whiz past my view in the window. I look ahead and the car is about a couple hundred yards ahead of us. It's a small blob in the dim moonlight. Towering trees surround the road on either side, closing in on the victim cars.
"So it was just you and Beth after?" Carol asks.
"Yeah." Daryl replies plainly, obviously with other things on his mind than talking.
Carol must not pick up on his distance, or otherwise not care about it, "You save her?"
"She's tough. She saved herself." Daryl keeps his eyes ahead, nothing's gonna stop him from getting to her.
"We were out there for a while. We got cornered, she got out in front of me and I don't know, she was gone. I came out and a car's pulling out with a white cross on the window." Daryl explains, hoping that the insight will silence her questions.
"Just like that one?" Carol pushes
"Yep." Daryl tightens his grip on the wheel. There's a bump under us and it shakes the car some. It could've been a squirrel, or a opossum. But more than likely it was a walker. Oh well. No one mentions it. We've got better things to worry about then some corpse we just flattened.
"Rick's gonna wonder where we went." Daryl points out, "Tank's runnin' low."
Then get 'em now!
Now Sam, that ain't very nice. I thought you were trying to be good.
I am, but these are the people that took Beth! Doesn't that mean anything?
I think it means we should keep on.
Carol speaks my mind for me,"We can end this quick. Just run him off the road."
"Nah, we're good for a bit." Daryl shakes his head.
Carol argues, "If they're holding her somewhere, we can get it out of the driver."
"Yeah, but if he don't talk, we're back to square one. Right now we got the advantage. We'll see who they are. If they're a group, see what they can do. And then we'll do what we gotta do to get her back." Daryl decides. Once Daryl makes a plan, you don't go back, you don't challenge it.
One final comment from Carol, "They're heading north, I-85."
Daryl and Carol exchange a look.
I-85, going north.
That's to the big city.
Beth's in Atlanta.
I sit quietly in the back seat, wringing my fingers nervously in the silence. Daryl's concentrating on the road. Carol staring ahead, trying to get a better look into the car, and I'm just watching. Because that's what I do best.
"You hangin' in there, kid?" Daryl asks as the broken Atlanta skyline looms ahead. On the left, a standstill traffic jam of cars that never escaped.
Damn. They haven't forgotten me.
"I'm doin' just fine." I inform him.
"Good. We're gonna need ya. I don' know what's ahead. Ya got me?" Daryl doesn't look at me, but I nod anyway.
"I can fight." I tell him.
I don't think I was supposed to notice, but I catch Carol give Daryl a glance. I don't say anything about it, and go back to looking out the window. We've entered the city now, buildings loom above us. Enormous tombstones to the former life.
I wonder how Beth could possibly be here. The dead overtook this city long, long ago. The possibility of any kind of life here is next to none. I stare at the dusty, foggy windows of the buildings we pass reflecting the silver light, each one as lifeless as the last. I begin to wonder if maybe we're on a ghost chase.
Then the car ahead of stops. Daryl stops about 150 feet behind it, waiting to see what they'd do next. Debris litters the streets, the city has fallen to ruin and the whole thing is rather depressing to see in the faint silver light. But what did I expect from a city run by the dead?
"The hell's he waiting for?" Daryl grumbles after we've been sitting there for a few minutes. We watch for a while longer, Carol straightens up in her seat and leans forward. Perhaps trying to read the license plates or something. Maybe she's just on edge, "There's two of 'em." Daryl notes as someone gets out on the passenger side of the car, "Is that a cop?" Daryl squints and I dig my fingernails into my jeans nervously. Carol pulls out her gun and I hear the safety click off.
I feel my own pistol dig firmly into my back, reminding me that it's there.
Daryl looks at Carol, maybe afraid she's gonna bolt, "They might have saw us," Carol reasons. Daryl gives a faint nod and they go back to watching.
The man walks off, going down the other street of the corner. He disappears out of our view, past the building on our right. We sit and watch, a still silence that raises the adrenaline for any hint of new movement.
SMACK! A walker slams into Carol's window, I flinch instinctively, my hand flying to my back for the gun. I feel ashamed for jumping, I should be used to the walker's banging around by now. I relax my hand back against my leg and try to slow my heart rate back down.
The man returns with a couple of bikes, which he dumps to the sidewalk, I suppose they were blocking the road. Meanwhile, our walker's is still attacking the window and Carol is cutting it glares, considering unrolling the window and shooting it. If she does, our cover's blown for sure. Maybe we can just wait it out and they won't investigate it.
The man continues to move items out of the way, and then he walks back, seemingly to his car, but it becomes clear all too soon, he's not stopping at the car. He walks a little past the car, wiping his hands, and finally he stops and watches. No movements, he'll sense movements. Daryl and Carol sit up front, alert and still, ready to fight at a moment's notice. I become frightened, yet slightly perturbed at that dumb walker who won't stop smacking into the car. After a moment which seems an eternity, the police man turns around and gets back into his car. I release a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Their car comes to life and they drive off as the man's door shuts. Daryl goes to start are own car. It whirs for a few moments, the engine never quite turning over. He pulls out the key, his grip tightening on the wheel, "Aw, shit." he grumbles at a low whisper, "Tank's tapped." We knew running on fumes wasn't gonna last us forever.
"They'd have taken the bypass and they didn't. They must be holed up in the city somewhere." Daryl reasons. The snarls of more walkers than just our friend at Carol's window fill the car as they get closer. We're not safe here, especially with the empty tank. The longer we stay here, the more opportunity for walkers to surround us. If we stay here until morning, we'd never make it out alive.
Daryl must be making the same connections, "We gotta move, find someplace to hole up till sunlight." he looks around. The moans seeping through the windows make my skin crawl.
Carol turns back to face him, she'd been previously looking out the back window, I catch a quick glance back there, there's 3 big uglies coming our way, "I know a place just a couple of blocks from here. We can make it."
The two look at each, a moment of silent conversation, then Carol rolls down her window just enough to pull her knife out and take out her window buddy. We jump out of the car after the corpse collapses to the ground. Carol starts running and we follow, she makes a right at the corner where the police man through the bikes and I follow her, Daryl bringing up the rear. I turn my head to try and get a location on where the lockers are.
Don't look back. I hear Carl's voice in my head. Just don't look back. My head swivels back around I keep after Carol. We make it to the back side of whatever place she's been referring to and the door is locked.
"Lemme through," Daryl growls and he starts going to work on the lock, trying to get it to break.
"Two more." Carol warns him. My eyes flash away from Daryl and the dim light catches the walkers who stumble towards us. They're about 100 yards away, I tighten my jaw and my grip around my pistol which is openly out now. I hope I don't have to use it, wouldn't wanna attract more of these goons.
"Almos' got it," Daryl promises.
Carol runs out a little, ready to take on the walkers and I almost run with her, but then Daryl gets the door open, "C'mon," he calls quietly. Carol stands still for a moment not responding. We can hear them coming, getting closer. Why are we waiting? I look to Daryl but he gives me the faintest shake of his head, indicating not to question it, he'll handle it. So I stand there quietly, like I always seem to do. There's more than two now, I can see at least five and more are still coming. Come on Carol! What are we waiting for? I bite my tongue and look at Carol desperately, but she's still watching the walkers coming towards us.
Finally she turns around and half runs in, Daryl pushes her first, then me. He shuts the door behind himself and we're in a dark hallway. It's cold and the air is still. This place hasn't been touched in a while. We walk down a hallway with marble floors that echo with our steps. Daryl shines a flashlight so we're not totally in the dark. The hallway leads to a more open lobby type space, with marble columns the same light shade as the floor. This place is too nice to have been used for long when it started. Maybe a few got in, or maybe more just never left.
Daryl's flashlight hits a walker, it's slouched against the wall, barely keeping its head up. Or maybe its head is slouched to the side. Whatever the case, its not moving. We get closer to study it, to pilfer whatever it died with Daryl bends down and grabs some keys off its belt. And walks to Carol who's standing at a glass door, I follow slowly behind, doing whatever Daryl does. Carol opens the door and does a quick look around, Daryl holds up the flashlight, and grabs my arm, pushing me to go through before him. It appears to be an office, what with the filing cabinets and the swivel, blue arm chair with the black arm rests. A wooden desk with piles of scattered papers. There's a couple lounge chairs with side tables and lamps. Perhaps people waited here for something. Maybe it's a doctor's office? There's another door on the left at the end of the room that Daryl moves towards.
"You use' ta work here or somethin'?" Daryl asks her. Carol seems to have a pretty decent idea of what she's doing and where she's going.
"Something," Carol agrees, almost mumbling under her breath. I get the idea that this place doesn't exactly bring her happy memories, whatis this place?
Daryl heads for a second door I hadn't noticed originally, it's on the wall facing the door we walked in from. Daryl and Carol push the desk in front of that door. We go through the first door I noticed into a black hallway. Daryl's flashlight catches the light of several doors that line the hallway, I follow Carol's footsteps as she seems to have an idea of the direction we need to go. She unlocks one door and we appear to have walked into a bedroom. A couple sets of bunk beds line the walls, there's some more side tables with books on them. I can't help myself, I go to the books.
"What's this place?" Daryl asks, it's definitely not a doctor's office, that's for sure.
"Temporary housing," Carol explains. I turn my head from the book entitled Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse. Was Carol... no, she couldn't have been, she's so strong. Then again, the strongest people arise from hard situations. You aren't just born tough. You have to earn that title. Daryl walks up behind me, his flashlight shining down on the book, he looks at it for too long. Like he's considering something. I look back to Carol.
"You came here?" I ask quietly, I feel as though it shouldn't be me to ask that question.
"We didn't stay," Carol informs me. When I turn back around the book is gone and Daryl's taken off his crossbow. I guess this is where we're holing up for the night. I walk across the room to the other bunk bed, and I sit down on the bottom bunk. I unlace my boots and keep them close to the bed in case we have to run. I lay down on my side, facing Carol and Daryl, my gun still clutched in my right hand. I click the safety back on, but I keep the gun next to me.
"I'll take the top bunk," Carol announces setting her stuff on top. The bunk beds aren't tall, they're made for children, Carol can easily place her stuff on top from the ground, "I think that one's more your style." she jokes, the bedding on the lower bunk is pink and rather frilly. I bite my tongue so that I don't laugh.
"You should sleep. I'll take first watch." she informs him
Daryl removes his jacket, "Place's locked up pretty tight."
Carol walks over to a window that's letting in the moonlight, keeping this room from being pitch black, "I know." this place definitely haunts Carol, for whatever reason. I doubt she could sleep if she had the chance to.
"Then we're good, then." Daryl lifts his eyebrows at her.
"I'll take first watch," she stays firm, "I don't mind."
"Suit yourself," he drops his jacket and walks over to me, squatting down so we're on the same level. He rests one arm on his knee, and uses the other to grab the bed frame to stay balanced.
"You doin' ok, here?" he asks, "You settled in?"
I shrug, "As settled in as I'm gonna get."
Daryl lets out a sigh, "Listen, Sam. I'm sorry I let ya come. I shoulda made ya stay. Ya shouldn't be here."
"I don't mind," I shrug again, "You shouldn't be here either. Neither should Carol, but plans change. And now we're gonna go get Beth. It all works out."
Daryl's eyes go to the ground, "It ain't ok. I can't be puttin' ya life at risk like I am. You shouldn't neither. It ain't my place. I ain't yo daddy."
"Daryl, I can take care of myself. I did a pretty damn decent job of it after the prison. And I was shot then. I know how to survive. I can help, I wanna help. I wasn't any use back at the church. But I can be here. We'll make it out, I know we will. And we'll bring back Beth too. Maggie will be so happy to see her again."
Daryl resigns, whether or not he believes the words I say is anybody's guess, "Alright, kid. I'll make sure ya get back. Beth too. Now go on, get some shut eye. If you're gonna help, you're gonna take a shift." he ruffles my messy blob of hair. I pull the blanket at my feet around my body and I shut my eyes, sleeping rushing on faster than I expected. I hear the springs of a mattress creaking as I assume Daryl sits down, then I hear Carol and Daryl's voices, but I'm too far gone to understand what they're saying
That night I dream we're back out on the road. It's that night, that awful, awful night.
I watch it all happen again, from a onlooker perspective instead of myself. But that doesn't make it any less terrible to relive. I watch myself and Carl be wrenched from the broken down car. I see the guns pointed at Rick and Michonne. I watch the knife blade slice the waistline of my pants. Even though I'm not in my body, I feel everything just as it was. My chest tightens up and I can't breathe.
Wake up! I shout to myself. Wake up, wake up, wake up! It's just a dream, you're dreaming!
My eyes shoot open and I'm drenched in a cold sweat, the blanket is twisted up at my ankles. I sit up and hold my head trying to bring myself back to reality.
"Sam?" I hear Carol whisper. I blink my eyes hard and turn towards Carol. She's sitting with her back propped up against the back of Daryl's bunk. Daryl's knocked out. I see Carol's hand shift from the mattress and she pushes herself up and walks over to sit on my bed.
"Are you ok?" she asks. She holds her hands in her lap, as if she wants to help me, but she's holding herself back from it.
"Yeah," I swallow roughly, "Just a nightmare." I lean back a little to get more comfortable, "Carol, were you gonna leave us?" the question has been burning too profusely not to be asked.
She gives me a sad look, "I'm not sure dear,"
I sit up even straighter so she'll know I'm serious, "Carol please don't leave us again, please don't leave me again."
She doesn't reply, "Sam, I don't think you understand-"
"But I do understand, you're afraid. For some reason. Just like you were when you came here the first time. But you didn't stay last time, and I won't let you stay again. Please come back Carol. We need you."
She draws one of her hands slowly and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, "You've changed since the prison, Sam. You're not that shy, quiet girl anymore. Your dad would be proud." I duck my head, biting down on my lips. She isn't addressing the problem at hand here. She's part of our family, why would she just leave?
"I'm supposed to take a shift," I tell Carol. If she's not gonna talk about it, then as painful as it may be for myself, I shouldn't push her, "You should get some sleep. I'm fine here."
Carol draws her lips to a line, "Ok, just wake Daryl when you're tired, alright?" she stands up and goes to her bunk, climbing up and then laying down.
I exhale and I scoot back so that my back is propped against the wall. I make sure my gun is right next to me. And then I just sit there. I love it. I'm alone, but somehow it's relieving instead of disheartening. I couldn't fall back asleep if I wanted, I'm petrified of going back to that dream world. Except it wasn't a dream. It happened, and that makes it all that much scarier.
You gotta stay tough in this world, even if it's hard sometimes.
