When Rick & Shane finally came back, it was late.
They were bloody, exhausted, and Randall still in the car; duct taped in the trunk.
Seems my persistent bad feeling wasn't misplaced afterall.
Rick got out of the car looking like all he wants to do is drift back into his coma.
He looked at me and Daryl, while I glanced through the back windshield at the kid. I can't tell if he's asleep or not.
"Get him back into the shed."
Daryl & I nodded simultaneously, and I opened the trunk for Daryl to pull Randall from the vehicle; after cutting the duct tape on his legs of course.
I slammed the trunk, and a whistle had me turning. I caught the flashlight T-Dog tossed, nodding in thanks, and let Daryl handle Randall while I lit the way back to his...unfortunate dwelling.
I don't like doing this to the kid but I can't deny he's a danger. For now this is the only viable option we've got, and it's better than being dead.
I hope he can hold on.
I handcuffed him inside again and Daryl stalked out right away, heading back up to the house.
I went to follow him but as I was closing the door, a bottle near the door caught my attention.
It's one of ours.
I picked up the plastic water bottle. It's still half full.
I glanced at Daryl's back. He hasn't noticed I'm not following yet.
I chewed my lip for a moment before slipping back inside.
I unscrewed the cap and crouched in front of the kid, holding the bottle up.
He looked back and forth between me and the bottle. I sighed, taking a small sip before holding it back up to his mouth and used my eyebrows more than anything to tell him to drink it.
I can't say when the next time he'll get a drink will be, but at least this will help.
I waited until he'd chugged the whole thing but I heard boots then, "Eve! Let's go! What are you doin'?"
I fled the shed, seeing Daryl coming back and I hid the water bottle behind my back, subtly dropping it back where I found it.
"What were ya doin'?" he glanced at the shed door.
I put on a sheepish smile as I held up the padlock for the door and motioned to the shed.
"You left the lock inside"
I locked the chain and scratched my neck.
He watched me with skeptical eyes but I motioned at the house and started walking. I watched him give one more lingering glance at the shed before moving to catch up with me.
Don't ask me why I felt the need to hide the fact I gave the kid some water but this whole situation has already gotten so much more complicated than it needs to be, I don't want to trudge up any more antimosty over the stupidest things.
I don't think Daryl would care now that I think about it but still. I guess some part of me just doesn't wanna risk another fight. And it's not like it'll hurt anyone keeping this to myself.
When we got back up to the house, Glenn filled us in on what we'd missed.
According to Rick, this whole thing blew up in their faces the minute they left the kid in a school parking lot.
I didn't think there was a school other than the high school within 18 miles of this farm, and I thought we agreed over the week that they'd take him 18 miles out and leave him, but knowing Rick, that plan may have changed while they were on the road.
I hope that's the case to be honest. It'd be good to know he still has a conscience despite presiding over Randall's life right now.
As for why they brought him back? Randall claims he went to school with Maggie.
He knows where the farm is, he knows who her dad is, her family, everything.
Oh and did I mention Rick has been watching Shane like a hawk since they got back? They both seem to be even more on edge with one another.
Something tells me they didn't give us the whole story about what happened out there today— Hell it was hardly even a synopsis.
This just gets better and better doesn't it?
A deep sigh whooshed out my nose as I rubbed aching eyes with my fingers.
And the worst part? That bad feeling in my gut hasn't dissipated in the slightest. If anything this sinking feeling is getting even worse, and I don't even know what's causing it much less what to do about it.
3rd Person POV
Early rays of dust beamed sunlight streaming through the cracks in the old wooden plank walls of the old shed.
Eve stood in the corner of the small structure, watching Daryl punch Randall for the 8th time. This time knocking him off the chair the kid was sat on.
Randall cried out as his shoulder took most of the impact, and twice more with each of Daryl's following fists to his near pulverized face.
"I told you" Randall rasped desperately.
"You told me shit!" Daryl grabbed him by the shirt, ramming him against the wall as he harshly sat the young adult up.
"I barely knew those guys. I met 'em on the road" Randall was desperate, trying to cooperate without betraying his old group; in the event they roll through here and rescue him he didn't want to be seen as a traitor.
But the man who'd been beating him since he was harshly awoken this morning, has a way of getting answers sooner or later. And Randall honestly was starting to question whether it was worth protecting the people who left him behind at this point.
In the end, he didn't fancy staying here either. Not like this.
"How many in your group?" Daryl stalked in the room, pacing back and forth in the small open space between the table which Eve was beside, and Randall on the ground propped up against the right wall.
Randall sputtered for breath, rolling his head on the wall. He can't give up anything. If those guys come through here and find out he talked, they'll kill him first.
Daryl's eye twitched as he reached for his side. Randall's eyes grew wide, locked onto the hunting knife Daryl slowly pulled from its sheath.
"No no no no no no no no no. Come on, man."
Randall yelped as Daryl lunged forward, slamming the knife into the floor right between Randall's knees.
"How many!?"
"UH, 30" Randall finally yelled. "30. 30 guys."
"Where?" Daryl growled.
"Uh..." Randall looked down for a fraction of a second too long for Daryl's liking.
Randall screamed as the bandage over his knee was ripped off.
"I don't know. I swear" he shouted through grit teeth. "We were never any place more than a night"
"Scoutin'?" Daryl slid the tip of his knife into the edge of the destroyed flesh. "Plannin' on stayin local?"
"I— I don't know. They— they left me behind" Randall's voice became more desperate and pleading by the minute. Any hope he had of getting out of this, long gone.
"Did you ever pick off a scab?" Daryl turned Randall's leg, sliding the knife along the seam of slowly healing skin.
"Come on, man! I'm— I'm tryna cooperate." Randall honest to god could not answer the man's questions if he wanted to. He couldn't think, and the anticipation of pain was almost worse than it actually happening.
It hurt so bad. He just wanted it to stop.
"Start real slow at first."
Randall grunted, trying his best not to cry out again at the painfully tight grip the man had on his calf.
"Sooner or later you just gotta rip it off"
"Okay!" Randall jolted against the wall with the force of his shout.
"Okay. okay. They— they— they have weapons." Randall stammered out. "Heavy stuff, automatics."
"But I didn't do anything" Randall grit his teeth again, his shoulders knocking against the wall as he squirmed, failing all pitiful attempts to move his leg at all, much less away from the man crouched over his feet in front of him.
"Your boys shot at my boys. Tried to take this farm." Daryl growled, anger eyes fixed on Randall. "You just went along for the ride. Yer tryna tell me yer innocent?"
"Yes!" Randall yelled, heavy breaths coming rapid and labored. "These— these people took me in."
"Not just guys a— a whole group of 'em." He rambled on. "Men and women, uh— kids too, just like you people. Thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know."
"But uh, we'd go out. Scavenge. Just the men."
"One night, we found this little campsite" Randall breathed heavily, trying to swallow the taste of blood in his mouth, and reign in the fear over his mind to recall the event. "A man and his two daughters— teenagers, you know?"
"Real young." He looked at his scuffed, bloody boots. Before dragging them up to the tormentor who'd returned to pacing at his feet. "Real cute."
The atmosphere changed in a single heartbeat.
Daryl could feel Eve tense; recalling the story of the girl in the foster home she'd told him about.
Flashes of the older girl drowning in her own tears in Eve's young arms, brought a tension to Eve's muscles she has not felt in a long, long time, and her core tightened so hard she could've puked or deflected bullets off the rigid muscle.
The slow manner in which the two dangerous people before Randall turned, was excruciating, and set every single hair on his body standing on end.
Two sets of lethally calm eyes moved over the room tracking right to the bleeding man, fixating like predators.
If he was scared before, his mind wouldn't even let him think about what was coming.
"Their daddy had to watch while these guys— they—" Sheer terror spurred his nervous mouth on, no matter how much his brain told him to shut up for his own sake.
"And they didn't even kill him afterwards." Randall shook his head. "They just — they just made him watch. His daughters—..."
Against his better instinct, Randall was pulled into the memory. Unaware his far off gaze had fixed near the door. "Just— just— just left 'em there."
Evelyn's boot shifting snapped him back and his eyes immediately flicked back to Daryl. His head violently shaking back and forth, the scraping of his head against the wood being the least of his problems, when he saw the way Daryl was looking at him.
"No, but-but— but I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear I didn't to—"
Daryl's leg whipped back and slammed into the side of Randall's knee and he screamed, falling onto his side again.
Stammering "Please" over and over.
"You gotta believe me, man." Randall muttered, crying. "I'm not like that."
"I ain't like that" Randall couldn't stop it anymore. He'd finally reached the point where it hurt too much and he was too scared not to cry. "Please, please. You gotta believe me"
Randall screamed as another fullforce kick landed on his knee.
Daryl's arm whipped back, aiming for Randall's face but he almost stumbled when his arm was caught at the elbow.
He swung around, furious eyes coming level with intense amber.
Evelyn stared him down, waiting until the pure rage faded even a little, and shook her head.
She jerked her head at the door, and Daryl went rigid, glaring back at Randall.
Eve squeezed his shoulder and he stormed out; knowing she would not give him a third warning. As fuming as he was, he still remembers the decking Merle got and didn't fancy getting one himself.
Daryl waited outside, cooling off by jabbing his knife repeatedly into anything nearby. The tree, the side of the shed, the dirt.
As soon as Daryl was gone, Eve turned to Randall.
Randall couldn't breathe. He hadn't given much thought to the woman in the corner with the man beating on him but at that moment, he knew what it truly meant to fear for your life.
Even when he thought he was gonna be left to the roamers he had not been this scared.
The fact she has not said a word, or done a thing up till this moment, made it all the worse; his brain his run-your-mouth-nervous brain, shut down in the face of this woman— no he couldn't even call her that.
He'd rather the man beat him to death.
At least then he would know what was waiting for him.