Carl opens the gate and secures it behind us. The drive has been silent since I learned Rick is going to kick me out as soon as trouble arrives. I don't blame him, and honestly, I don't care. I'm only here for one thing. So instead of moping around about it, I've already got a smile plastered on my face to match the smiles of the group. They stand perched around the outside of the prison, just like when I first arrived here. They must see the bags in the back, because they all beam with joy, laughing and high-fiving at our successful mission. Carl runs up the driveway behind us.
"No way," says Beth as we exit the car and begin unloading the back. "We all thought it was too good to be true."
"I didn't," Herschel says with a gleam in his eye. He winks at me and I smile back. "You guys must be starving. There's lunch ready inside."
The prison feels lighter than it did before I left. I think it's the group. They don't look at me with anger or with pity anymore. They look at me like I'm part of them now.
"Any word on Woodbury?" Rick asks the lingering group as we eat our lunch: pasta and canned fruit.
"Not directly," Glenn says. "But Merle says they're definitely loading up for something big. He heard the Governor say they still need more training. Maybe a couple weeks by the sound of it, but who knows with that guy." It's interesting to see them all, now knowing more of their stories. How they got here, who they were before the end of the world. Rick told me a bit about each of them. Glenn and Maggie make me smile. They seem perfect for each other.
"We'll go through our updated inventory and start assigning guns today," Rick says.
"Or tomorrow," Glenn suggests. He cocks his head toward the empty bins in the kitchen area. "Me and Maggie are heading out again. We need food."
Rick nods, though irritated. "Fine. Make it quick."
"Always do," Glenn says and pats Rick on the shoulder and heads toward the door with Maggie. She offers me a smile nod as if to say thank you as they pass.
When nobody is around us, I put a gentle hand on Rick's wrist. "Hey, relax," I say. He clenches his jaw.
"I'll relax when it's over," he says, eyeing the wall. I don't know if it's out of frustration or out of an inability for Rick to sit longer than two minutes, but he pushes his tray away and stands before I can protest. "Let's go find your brother."
/
"Are you sure I don't need a weapon or anything?" I say as we head down the pitch black stairs. The eerie sight fills me with anxiety. I don't like surprises and I certainly don't like the looks of this basement. There's too many corners, too many doors, too many places for a walker to jump out. Rick holds a flashlight to illuminate our way. As we reach the bottom steps, though, the walls are splattered with blood. The smell alone could knock someone out.
"There's nothing to kill. They're all dead," Rick says.
"Are you sure?" I ask for the third time. Rick stops and I bump into him.
He turns to face me, his face barely visible in the dim glow of the flashlight. His towering over me makes apparent our height difference. I take a step back. "I'm sure," he says.
I throw my hands up. "Okay, okay. I believe you." We continue down the dark corridors.
The first stretch of hallway is empty. There are no sounds but our hollow footsteps and echoing drips of what I hope is just a leaky pipe in the distance. Rick casts his flashlights along the perimeter. No walkers, just signs of them. Blood - and lots of it.
"You know, you should get out more," I say, mostly out of boredom, but it's true nonetheless. Sometimes I forget I'm not alone anymore, and that there are actual people who can hear everything I blurt out. After months of speaking to myself, I forget to filter my thoughts. "You seemed a lot happier the other night when were were away from here."
Rick's laugh echoes in the hallway. "Yeah, well whiskey sure takes the edge off."
I shake my head, though he can't see me. "No, it wasn't just that. You benefit from getting away from this place, I think. You have so much to worry about here since you're in charge."
"I'm not in charge," he says, shaking his head.
"Sure seems like it," I say, and he says nothing. I sigh and continue. "Anyway, that's not the point. I'm just saying all this stress isn't doing you any favors." I step in a puddle of blood and scrape the bottom of my shoe clean on the cement. "I know we just met, but you're actually quite nice to be around when you aren't so uptight."
Rick stops. "I know. You're right. And again, I'm sorry for being short with you. It's not personal. I'm like that with everyone these days." He stops when we reach a dead walker at our feet. He kicks it so it falls onto its back and we can read the nametag that's sewn to the tattered jumpsuit. Alex. Not our guy. We keep walking until another body lies ahead. Ben. I clench my jaw, already getting frustrated at the fear that creeps up within me: What if he's not here? I silence my mind and push forward with Rick. The hall comes to an end and we turn into another room.
His flashlight reveals a destroyed room - broken desks, cracked lights hanging from the ceiling, and bodies strewn about the cement floor. We get to work peeling them off the floor, one by one, and searching for the name tag each time. Some of them are barely visible, either soaked in dark blood or torn to bits. After a while, about fifteen corpses lay neatly across one of the walls. They are a lot heavier than they seem, even after being dead for so long. None of them are Robert, yet. I give myself a break and sit on one of the intact desks. Sweat drips down my face, but I don't want to wipe it away with my bloody hands. The white lace shirt I took from the little house is now etched with stains. I grimace at it.
"We've got detergent upstairs. It'll wash right out," Rick says, wiping his brow.
"When I find Robert, there'll be no need. I'll leave right away."
Rick stops and stares over at me. And though I can barely see his face in the soft light, I can see his confusion.
"Reese, he's not here. That's the last walker," Rick says, pointing to the one he just propped up.
"What?" I say, though I don't even realize it. My heart sinks as I stand up and check the name tag. It's not him. None of them are. My world starts to spin as I turn around, trying to find Rick in the dark. "No, there's gotta be more. That was barely any."
"I told you, a lot of them wandered out past the fence. These are the only ones here," Rick explains, using his hands to talk. I clench my jaw and peer up at him. He must sense the pain in my expression, because he softens his. He presses his lips into a straight line, the beginnings of a frown, and steps close to me. He places a comforting hand on my arm and kneels to match my height. "Besides, shouldn't you be happy he's not here? That means there's a chance he's out there somewhere - alive."
"No, it means he's dead out there, wandering forever," I spill out, hiding my face. "And I'll never find him."
/
"I think I'm allowed to talk with you now," a small voice says behind me. I set my journal down and peer behind. Beth stands at the doorway, closing the cell door behind her. She's small and meek but possesses a charming charisma. The stark room softens as she enters. I smile up at the girl and scoot over on the metal cot so she can sit. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help you. I tried to give you bigger portions of food without them noticing. I hope you noticed."
"I did," I smile. "Thank you so much. You know, it's really hard to come across kind people. Everyone is so quick to persecute."
"Yeah, sorry about Rick. He's…" Beth's voice trails off as she searches for the right words. She clears her throat and lowers her volume. "Ever since his wife died, he's been a bit… unpredictable."
"His wife?" I ask, feeling my brows pinch together. She nods.
"It happened a few weeks ago. During birth. Maggie was there. So was Carl," Beth says, shaking her head at the memory. A pang of unimaginable sadness creeps over me. No wonder Rick has been so hot and cold. I feel sorry for prodding at him now, for telling him to lighten up. I had no idea.
"I thought that baby was yours," I say, trying to get out of my own head.
"Oh no." Beth shakes her head. "But it does feel like I'm raising her sometimes. I don't mind, really. Sorry I'm talkin' your ear off. We don't get many visitors. A group just came in a few days before you, actually, but Rick already scared them off. And a woman, Michonne. She's still around, but she keeps to herself. Rick says she'll have to leave as soon as she's healthy."
"He said the same to me. Well - not as soon as I'm healthy, but as soon as I find what I'm looking for. And I didn't find it," I say, the bitterness in my voice apparent. I clear my throat. "I'm actually just packing up now. If I leave soon, I'll find a decent spot to sleep before the sun sets."
"What?" She cocks her head. I continue folding a shirt and cramming it into my already-full backpack. I glance up and see an immense fear on her face. I stop packing and watch her. "You really shouldn't be out there by yourself. Not with Woodbury hanging around. They could see you."
"And?" I ask, genuinely curious. I've had enough of dangerous groups and I'm smart enough to know to stay away.
"And they'll take you, like they took Maggie and Glenn. And Andrea. And Michonne," she whispers, cocking her head behind us where a woman sits, adjusting her bandages. I assume she's Michonne. I return my attention to Beth and nod my head. "I certainly wouldn't want to come across the Governor, or any of them, on my own."
I shudder at her words, at the possibilities they hold. I've only been here a few days, but I've already grown to feel somewhat safe within these hard prison walls. Do I really want to subject myself to the dangers past the fence so soon? I glance around at my little room. Sure, it was once my prison cell, keeping me trapped in here, but now it's quite cozy. Familiar. It feels nice to not be on the road for a change.
"Well, Rick did say I could stay until things get worse," I reason, setting my backpack on the ground. Beth looks relieved.
"Good. Rick would be crazy to let you out there at a time like this. He should know better." She stands up from the bed and takes a couple backward steps toward the door. "If you need anything, let me know. I've even got some clothes that probably fit you."
Before I can thank her, she's already out the door. She stops by Michonne, seemingly asking her a question, but the woman just looks at her, then back at her hands. Beth sheepishly walks off. I smile to myself, grateful for her kindness. After so many run-ins with people over the months, she is truly good, and it's easy to see. I haven't spent enough time with any of the rest to make a similar judgement, though her father has been hospitable and trusting as well. Carl only looks at me like I'm a prisoner, which is to be expected according to Rick - he says his son is taking more responsibility around here. I laughed when he first said it, thinking it was a joke. I mean, he's only a kid. But he's a kid who walks around with a gun like he owns the place and I'm not going to argue with it. Maggie and Glenn have been gone or busy most of the time. Same with Daryl, but I'm not too fond of him after our few encounters. And Rick is, well… Rick. His behaviour makes so much sense now.
As I unpack my belongings, tucking them neatly under my bed, my mind wanders to that night in the little house. How blissful everything was. How happy Rick seemed. I feel awful for suggesting he's just stressed out and needs to relax… when in reality, he's mourning a recent loss. I ponder apologizing to him, but end up deciding it's best I just back off. This is his place and I'm just in it for a while. Beth has convinced me to stay until it's safe, but I'm leaving as soon as I can. I want to see what's around here. If Robert did escape - as a walker - he could be roaming around these woods. Maybe he's in that horde I saw in the distance. He can't be far from here unless he's alive. I hit myself on the forehead for even thinking that thought. He's not alive, he's not alive, he's not-
"Are you okay?" I hear Rick ask behind me. I drop my hand and twist on my heels. He stands in the doorway with a chain and a lock. I pinch my brows at the sight.
"Yeah," I say, shaking my head. "Just a headache. What are you-" I begin to ask and he cuts me off with a laugh.
"This," he lifts the chains. "Nothing bad. I'm just chaining the door open so you know we aren't keeping you here."
I let out a sigh of relief and watch him loop the chain through the metal links of the door. He locks the chain at the end and tosses me the key. He demonstrates how the chain blocks the lock, so nobody could trap me in here even if they tried. I look down at the key in my palm and smile.
"Thanks, Rick, but you really didn't need to-"
"Yes I did. We don't all get along in here," he says, his voice low, just above a whisper. I assume he means him and the rest of the group. He doesn't need to explain that, though, because the tension among the group has been palpable since the moment I showed up. "And I don't want someone to decide you're a prisoner all-of-a-sudden. I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it."
I smile at the man and pocket the key. Rick glances behind as if to see who's around. Nobody is - even Michonne has slipped away elsewhere. He lets himself into the room.
"Listen," he says, keeping his voice low. "I'm really sorry about your brother. I'd hoped you'd be able to find some closure here, especially with how far you've traveled."
I keep my head down and turn my back to him, pretending to mess with something in my backpack. My sun bleached hair cascades over my shoulders creating a curtain between us. I don't mean to hide myself. I'm just too overcome with fear and worry and failure to form any coherent thought. Thankfully, he keeps speaking so I don't have to. His voice is closer now.
"Maybe, when all this blows over with Woodbury," he says, his deep voice trailing off as he searches for the words to say. "Maybe we'll find ourselves back at that little house for a night." I freeze. My hands clutch a pair of jeans I'd been pretending to fold. Something shifts in the air, the same way it did my first night here. I want to turn and face him, but my feet are glued to the floor, my gaze stuck on my motionless hands. "You were right about me needing to get away from this place for a bit. And it was nice, you and I."
I contain the smile that threatens to grow across my face and clear my throat. Trying not to read too deeply into his words, but desperately wanting to, I shove my hands into my back pockets and turn on my heels, shifting my weight to one foot. "Yeah, sure," I nod, and bite my lip half-mindedly. "I think it'd be good for you. For me, too," I add with an exasperated breath. Rick smiles at my reaction and I nearly melt. I need him to leave so I can gather myself, but I know I don't really want that. I tell myself to snap out of it, that it's nothing but a friendly invitation, and that I just need some sleep.
But his hand on my shoulder begs me to reconsider.
"Goodnight, Reese," is all he says before he strides to the door. He glances back once before disappearing upstairs to his room.
His touch lingers on my skin like a caress.