Ok so, I am literally moving the other side of the country at the end of this week, and driving the whole way. So I might not be able to publish for the next 2 Monday's - but I'm still going to try.
They could just be published later in the week when I have a decent enough internet connection and time to write, or they might not happen at all. If that ends up being the case, I will update twice once I'm settled in the new place to make up for the loss (and maybe a bonus 3rd as an apology/reward for your patience).
Well, my own boots are kinda sticking to the ground and every leaf on it, so that's a good sign.
I scanned the trees with every quiet step over wet leaves just starting to crisp up enough that it's making it difficult to move as quietly as I'm used to.
I readjusted my grip on my knives, licking my dry lips.
Even though the sun is out and shining the cold is biting at my skin through my jacket. Leather helps with fending off teeth — and you know, looking cool — but not so much with cold weather. If it were windy maybe but not an all around temperature free fall.
Autumn is deceptive. Cause things don't look like they should be this cold while the sun is out but then you step outside and it's like 'I'm sorry, did you want that sunshine to be warm¿ Tough.'
I shivered, tucking my elbows a little closer to my sides. I need to get more layers asap, cause this is only gonna get worse. For all we know it could start snowing any day now. By next week we could be trudging through knee deep snow, wondering if there's a walker just lying under the fresh powder waiting for something to step on it like a landmine.
I'll bet we start seeing frost in the mornings as early as tomorrow. I thought I saw a little bit this morning but I got up kinda late so I don't know.
As soon as Rick & Daryl get back today, we need to talk about those winter-stock up runs and decide when to go; preferably sooner rather than later given the drastic turns in weather.
There's a lot a things we need that we don't have, or at least don't have enough of. Like blankets, properly storing food so we don't starve in case there's a bad storm, snow gear, gloves, ground salt would be amazing — oh and snow tires even more so. Even just chains we can hook around the car wheels to give more traction would be better than what we've got right now.
The woods are as quiet as ever though, thankfully — maybe even more so than usual.
The only sounds I've noticed are the occasional wind rustled leaves, birds overhead and sometimes in the wilting bushes, and strangely cicadas still. I didn't think they would still be around this late in the season but then again, I don't know that much about bugs.
It's the absent sounds that are more concerning for me at the moment. I can't hear any water or even skittering from possible furry critters. The ground floor of the forest is oddly quiet and at first it set me on edge but now I'm starting to think it's just wildlife shifting between seasons. Preparing for the harsher climate.
That's how I definitely know winter is just around the corner. First to know are the animals. Their instinct for it is much better than our own, so using them is a good benchmark to go by when we don't have anything more accurate at our disposal.
It wasn't long before I came up on the riverbed. I almost didn't recognize it if it wasn't for my boot getting stuck.
Oh this isn't good.
My eyes trailed up and down in both directions, following a barely discernible muddy path. It's completely dry already. There are no walkers here, but seeing this now, I'm not so sure that's a good sign.
I pulled my foot out of the mud, careful not to lose my shoe.
I'm not the best tracker but I know what to look for in this case. None of these foot holes look like they've been disturbed in awhile. They're all dry and crusty except for the one I just made which looks much softer. It's pretty easy to tell when you put them side by side like this.
I was actually starting to think I walked past it before I stepped in it.
Looking around one more time, I turned to head back but stopped, thinking. If this spot is dried up but still wet enough to stick, maybe it isn't all dry.
I started down the creek a little ways, looking for any signs of moisture still in the bed. The woods are eery when they're this quiet. It's starting to creep me out. Big time.
Maybe I should hurry this up.
20 or so odd minutes ticked by and nothing's caught my attention aside from a trash panda demon that scared the shit outta me but I most certainly did not almost stab it, or more or less run away, or run faster when it chased me, and I was most definitely not grateful no one was out here to see a grown ass woman who can take down handfuls of walkers at a time run away from something barely the size of a small dog.
Of course nothing like that happened.
I checked behind me again to make sure it was gon— for walkers. Yeah. Walkers are dangerous, you know. They sneak up on you. Which is exactly why I'm checking the ground too because — hey not all walkers have legs or can walk.
It's important not to overlook these things.
I chewed my lips, checking behind me again and up into trees a little just to be sure cause you never know.
I like the woods in summer more. When there's more green and less… haunted tree limbs, risk of stepping through a spider's web, and skittery dead leaves that sound like something running after you instead of just the wind.
I huffed a sigh, stopping as I checked my surroundings again. I better get back. I've already been out too long and I think it's safe to say the entire creek is dried up.
Thank goodness we weren't relying on it for water, if we were, we'd be in deep trouble.
How many wells did the Greene's say they've got on their land? 5? And they use maybe 2-3 of them — not just for the house but for the cattle as well.
Those could be a problem soon, or they could be a salvation. If we run out of food during the winter but those cattle are still alive, we might not starve to death. But if they attract more walkers like they've already been doing…
I watched my step as I started away from the creek, watching for holes, walkers, furry creatures, and anything else that might be lurking out here.
It's funny how easy it is to forget that nature is a harsh place when you live with so much technology. How many generations has it been since things like electricity, running clean water, even actual bathrooms weren't just given things the majority of the population had access to?
I stopped suddenly, hearing something that is most definitely not natural. It sounds like… like talking.
Wait a second.
My eyes widened as my feet carried me towards a massive rock blocking my view to the source of the familiar noise and the moment I stepped around it, the atmosphere stiffened like pipes freezing and my fists clenched as I stopped in my tracks.
3rd Person POV
"You're gonna like it with us." Randall hobbled over the uneven ground, his tied wrists swinging as he did so. "Get's a little crazy sometimes but it's a tough bunch of guys."
"You'll fit in good." he rambled on, not watching where he was going other than the ground directly in front of him, glancing back at the man behind him on occasion as he lead him through the woods.
It was a risk trusting the man after he dragged him out here. Randall thought he was gonna try to kill him again but he never would've guessed the man to want to join his group; especially after everything's that's gone down between his group and Randall's.
As soon as they get back to Randall's people, set up just off the highway, about five miles from here, he'll finally be home free. No more wonderin' if the person who's stepped into that shed is gonna hurt him, or just not care. The only person who was any sort of nice to him since he's been 'ere is that one girl who helped save his life and brought him food and stuff.
She ain't much of a talker though, he noticed that. Not even with 'er own people from what he could tell. But she stopped that dude from punching his lights out a few days ago. That's more than the blonde chick who just shouted "Back off" at this dude behind him when he tried to shoot him the other day for talkin' to the kid who got in through the roof somehow.
"Less talkin' more walkin'." Shane walked backwards, checking to make sure no one had seen him and they weren't being followed. He isn't too worried about having been seen getting off the farm. The only person he couldn't account for before he left though is the most dangerous.
That's the last thing he needs right now. Someone finding him with the prisoner, especially someone like Daryl, Rick, or god forbid Evelyn.
Before, he thought she would've been ok with killing the kid. Might've even been with him on it but ever since Sophia ran off — she… something happened to her. It's like all of a sudden she went soft and started bein' all 'every life is important' like Dale or some shit.
She can't possibly want this asshole to actually join them. She's gotta know that's just a stupid idea. He and his buddies tried to kill her, Glenn, Hershel, and Rick. And she wanted to save his life? Man — tch, somethin's definitely wrong with 'er these days.
"Look, I run my mouth when I get nervous." Randall continued, ignoring Shane's direction. "I can't help it,"
Shane turned back, wanting to pop his neck off his shoulders right here and decided in the moment that this is far enough.
As soon as he reached up, Randall started and froze like a deer in headlights.
A glint over the boy's shoulder immediately caught Shane's attention and he locked eyes with the last thing he wanted to see.
An entire herd of walkers like the one from the highway would've been better over the steady lethal amber fixed on him.
Cold sunlight cast dangerous gleams off acute sharp-edged knives grasped in two tight capable fists.
"You best have a damn good explanation for this, Officer."