January 8, 2011

Daryl scanned Fun Kingdom's fence line as he rode his motorcycle at a creeping pace, the fringe on his poncho fluttering in the breeze. When he looked forward again, he saw Rick strolling toward him, silver revolver riding his hip and his old green King County Sheriff's Department coat zipped up against the cold. Daryl sputtered to a stop, kicked down his stand, and dismounted. He'd finish perimeter check on foot and come back for the bike later. "Hey, man!" he called as he paced toward Rick. "You bring Carl?"

Rick turned when he reached Daryl so they were walking side by side. "He's playing with the kids. And Andrea and Rosita are at the house talking about wedding plans with Carol." He shook his head. "I can't believe you two are getting married. Welcome to the club."

"Why's everyone keep sayin' that? Welcome to the club?" Glenn had said that.

"Misery loves company," Rick quipped.

"Don't think Glenn is miserable. Seems pretty damn happy."

"I know. Neither am I. It's just a joke."

Daryl wondered if it really was. "Rosita came, too?"

"To provide security on the trip. Or so she says. I think she just wants to get away from Abraham for a while. She's still pretty pissed off about the way he ended things. And then, when things didn't go anywhere with Sasha, he wanted back in the townhouse."

"Seriously? She didn't let 'em, did she?"

"She did. Separate rooms, though. They're making use of both bedrooms now." He smirked. "Is Carol going to make you wear a tie? To your wedding?"

"Hell no!" They walked through the shadow of the Kingdom Coaster along the fence line.

"Who's your best man going to be?"

"Dixon."

"Oh, of course. Family."

Daryl wonder for a brief moment if Rick had expected Daryl to ask him to be his best man. Glenn, after all, had seemed a little wounded by Daryl's choice of Dixon, maybe because Daryl had played Glenn's best man. Carol told him he really ought to make poor Glenn a groomsman, and she'd balance it out by making Michonne a bridesmaid.

"Carl killed his first walker on the way here," Rick said proudly. "Second shot."

"Soph's killed three now," Daryl replied just as proudly. "Two with her wazawhatever and one with a handgun." Then he wished he hadn't said it. He could tell from Rick's expression he'd stolen the man's thunder a little bit. Fortunately, there was the distraction of a walker with its face caught between the bars of the fence. Daryl strolled over and stabbed it with his hunting knife. He flicked a bandana out of his pocket and cleaned his blade as he resumed walking with Rick. "Lori know you were gonna let him do that?"

Rick sighed. "She doesn't want to admit how much the world has changed. She's trying to get back to normal in Woodbury. But the world will never be back to normal. Carl needs to be prepared for the world he's growing up in. You know he's already talking about joining the Woodbury Army when he grows up? It's got Lori in a tizzy. She wants him to be a carpenter or a food distributor or something inside the gates."

"Carl don't want to work for the Woodbury Sheriff's Department?" Daryl asked.

"Of course not. What kid wants to work with his old man? What does Sophia want to be when she grows up?"

"Alive."

Rick chuckled. Rosita was coming toward them now on a solar-powered Segway. She twirled it around when she reached them and slowed to their walking pace.

"You know you look ridiculous on that?" Daryl told her.

"It's fun. Listen, I scavenged two boxes of condoms the other day. Twelve packs in each box. What will you give me for a box? I'm thinking eight pounds of venison."

"One pound of venison," Daryl replied.

"An entire box, Daryl."

"I ain't in a hurry. Carol's on the pill 'till the end of May." And then he still had two boxes of condoms on hand. He'd scavnege more on his own, he was sure, before June.

"Then I'll try Glenn," Rosita said.

"Glenn don't have the authority to trade venison. Neither do I really. We all got to agree if we're tradin' away communal food."

"Well, I may keep them all for myself, then," Rosita said. "For my once-a-month booty call when we make the trade trips to Terminus. Alex only has four condoms, and we already used two the first time I was there."

"Alex?" Daryl asked.

"He's part of the triumvirate that runs that place. Mary's son. Gareth's brother. He's about my age. Twenty-six."

"Hippie?" Daryl asked.

"Short-haired hippie," Rosita replied. "Not really my type, but he'll do for a monthly roll in the hay. The man's cute. Not terrible in bed, either. Very attentive. But not exactly a wildcat."

"Don't think I need all these details," Daryl told her.

"You asked."

"Asked if he was hippie." Daryl walked over to the fence to examine a weakness. They were at the chain link part of it now, which sometimes needed reinforcement with wooden supports. Something had been pushing on this part of the metal, probably a walker or two, and now the chain link was giving a little too easily, as he could tell by pushing on it. He took out his walkie talkie. "Hey, Mr. T, come in. Over."

"What can I do you for?" T-Dog asked. "Over."

"Section 6b. Needs a wood support. Over."

"I'm on it. Over and out."

As Daryl began strolling again, he asked, "How's Sasha?"

"Healing," Rosita answered. "She's on light duty for another three weeks. And she and Bob are still hitting it off. They're dating seriously now. If you can call it dating in this world."

"What a moron," Daryl muttered.

"Bob's all right," Rosita insisted. "He's a good solider. A good medic. And he's been off the booze for over three weeks."

"Meant Abraham."

Rosita grimaced. "No, no he's not. Abe's courageous. Mission oriented. And he's always treated me like I can handle myself, like he believes it one hundred percent. Most men…" She shook her head. "They try to shelter me. I hate that shit. Abe never did that."

"Tell me you ain't seriously thinkin' 'bout getting back together with him again," Daryl said.

Rosita shrugged. "Probably not."

Rick smiled suddenly and when Daryl followed his gaze, he knew why. Michonne was strolling leisurely toward them. "Howdy, Deputy Grimes," she said. "Did you bring me that whetstone you promised me?"

Rick nodded. "You'll have that blade cutting hairs in no time. I also have a letter from Jocelyn." He pulled the letter from inside his coat and handed it to her. "But you should come by and visit her again. In two weeks. On the next trade trip."

"Maybe." Michonne turned and fell in line with them. "But I don't think I better sleep on your couch this time. Maybe I should find other lodging."

"Why?" Rick asked.

Michonne didn't answer. "How's Lori?"

"We finally got a good enough picture on the ultrasound," Rick answered. "One of each. A boy and a girl. And Eileen delivered her baby safely two days ago, a little girl. So we know it can happen in this world now."

"What we don't know," Rosita said, "is if the disease transmits to babies in vitro. Eugene's speculating that maybe the next generation will be born immune. And if that's true, that would mean, eventually, generations from now…people would outnumber walkers and be able to kill them all off. We could have a walker-free world. An end to the plague."

That was wishful thinking, Daryl thought, but he didn't say so.

"What did they name her?" Michonne asked. "Eileen's little girl?"

"Eve."

"Fitting," Michonne replied. "Are you going to name your boy Adam?"

"I don't think so. It would sound like we were trying to arrange a marriage from the cradle."

Michonne chuckled. "Have you picked out names?"

Rick grimaced. "Carl wants to name the boy Shane, but Lori told him no. We're still compiling a list of boys' names. And he wants to name his baby sister after his third grade teacher, Mrs. Mueller."

"Mrs. Mueller's a big name for a baby," Michonne quipped.

Rick laughed. "Her first name was Judith."

"That's an old lady's name," Rosita told him. "Why would you saddle a baby girl with that?"

"I kind of like it," Rick replied. "Father Gabriel told me the story of Judith from the apocrypha. Judith delivered the Jewish people from the Assyrian invaders by going to the camp of the enemy general, Holofernes, gaining his trust, and then decapitating him."

"Okay, I like the name a lot better now," Rosita agreed.

"Who's Father Gabriel?" Michonne asked. "I don't think I met him while I was in Woodbury."

"Because he wasn't in Woodbury until three days ago," Rosita told her.

Rosita told them that she, Abraham, Oscar, and Bob were out scavenging at a food bank when they came across the priest. Right before the collapse, his church had held a canned food drive. They'd collected enough for one person to live on for a full year, easily. But Father Gabriel took in some members of his parish when they came to him for shelter – four families. They lived there, sleeping on the pews and using the two single-room restrooms in the back of the church, which had its own septic system and well, so they had fresh water.

Even with strict rationing, they blew through all the food in three months. Three of the men – armed with two knives and a single shotgun between them - went to raid the food bank to keep the camp supplied. They brought back enough food to last another few months. By then the septic tank filled up completely, and, without power, they couldn't drain it, so they dug a latrine outside the church. One day, one of the men was bitten by a walker while using the latrine. They shot him after he died and reanimated. Three days later, overcome with grief, his wife hung herself from the bell tower.

When the scavenged food was almost out, the scavenging team of three men left the church to return to the food bank for more, but they never came back. Father Gabriel was now left alone with no firearm and three women and five children.

The women refused to leave their children behind to go out scavenging, and Father Gabriel was afraid to do so. Thus, for a week, they all lived off the boxes of stored communion wafers and, for extra calories, communion wine diluted with water, which left the kids slightly buzzed at night. The priest finally had to work up the courage to venture out himself.

Father Gabriel returned to the food bank where the men had previously scavenged. He found them roaming around outside, turned into walkers. He ran past them and into the food bank building and shut and locked the door, breathing heavily and relieved to be safe from the walkers outside, only to turn and find another walker lunging toward him. He evaded it and then ran from it, throwing cans at its chest and head as it lurched after him through the maze of shelves.

When the Woodbury soldiers entered through an unlocked back door, after shooting the walkers out front, they found the priest trapped behind the counter. The grasping walker was reaching its arms over and clawing for the fresh meat while Father Gabriel smashed its hands with a tin can.

Rosita strode forward and stabbed the walker in the back of the head with the bayonet from her rifle. When she yanked it back out, dripping with blood and guts, Father Gabriel vomited on the countertop.

The Woodbury Army loaded up the canned goods while the priest drank some water and recovered himself. The food bank had been half looted by the church camp already, and mice had gotten into some of the cannisters of oats and grits and bags of rice, but there were still a lot of food worth taking – canned tuna finish, Spam, fruits, vegetables, and soup as well as some bags of rice and dried beans still untouched by rodents. When they were done loading up, the priest took them back to his church.

When they got back to his church, the Wolves had been there. The women were all stabbed to death. They'd had the letter W carved onto their foreheads, and WOLVES NOT FAR was written in blood on the walls of the church. The children were gone, abducted into the pack to be raised liked wolves. Father Gabriel was a mess when he saw it. He blamed himself for leaving them defenseless and going out to scavenge.

"Not that he would have been able to defend them," Rosita said. "He had no guns. He'd just be dead, too."

"You track 'em?" Daryl asked. "The Wolves?"

"Abe and I did. We found them and rescued four of the kids. By then, they'd killed the oldest one because he had tried to fight back. But we killed all the Wolves. There were six left. I think we're done with them, finally."

"Jesus," Daryl muttered. "Go to the candy store 'fore you leave. Take whatever the hell ya want for them kids."

[*]

Carl Grimes had a great time catching up with the kids. He and Sophia and Mika and Luke did some "sledding" as they called it down the castle tower slides, on burlap sacks, until their butts and cheeks were cold, and then they came in for hot chocolate whipped up by Carol.

Andre followed Carl around the kitchen and living room like a puppy, excited to see the "big kid" again. Max growled when Carl tried to pet Daisy, but eventually adjusted to his presence and settled comfortably on the bear skin rug. Andrea and Rick caught up with the family they had once shared a home with.

The crew stayed for an early, late afternoon dinner, and then they headed back around five, their truck full of traded goods, so they could make it to Woodbury before the sun set.