December 14
While hunting, Daryl came across one of Hershel's horses, lying dead in the woods, having fled the farm after being bitten by walkers in the hind quarters on both sides. The poor animal had eventually given up its flight and collapsed and then likely bled to death. Daryl wished he could have found it sooner, that he could have put it out of its misery after the first bite.
He looked around cautiously for walkers, but none had pursued the animal this far into the woods. Perhaps some had stumbled after it into the forest, but walkers couldn't exactly track. He returned from the hunt early and empty handed and found Hershel at the pony ride ring, supervising Sophia, who was riding Maggie's mare Shadow in a careful canter and looking a little scared and excited at the same time.
Daryl leaned against the rail of the fence next to Hershel. "How's she's doing?"
"Sophia's a natural." He smiled. "Makes me miss my girls being young. Although I started teaching them when they were four, not twelve."
The man was in such a good mood, Daryl didn't want to tell him about the horse, but he probably should. He described what he had found.
Hershel sighed, "That was Nervous Nelly."
"How many horses you have?" Daryl had never been in the stables himself.
"Four. Beth got Magnus out, and Maggie had Shadow. I suppose Freckles probably didn't make it. But we'll breed Magnus and Shadow in March or April. Should have a colt in about a year."
It was strange, thinking that far ahead, when everything could be destroyed in an instant, but they had to hope.
"Whooooa, Shadow!" cried Sophia, tugging on the horse's reins and trying to pull it to a stop. "Whoooaa!" The horse slowed and stilled and Sophia dismounted and ran to the fence. "Did you see me? Did you see me riding her, Daryl?"
Daryl smiled. "Yeah. Been standin' right here." He instinctively reached out and ruffled her hair. "Good job, kid."
"Don't mess up my hair!" she complained and began running her fngers through it, but she was smiling.
"Bet we can find you a derby hat," Daryl told her. "One of these stores. Kingdom of Horses."
Sophia laughed. "There's no Kingdom of Horses!"
"It's time to get that heavy saddle off and brush Shadown down," Hershel said.
"Can I help?" Sophia asked.
Hershel chuckled. "Help? Oh, no, young lady, you're going to do all the work."
On his way back to the house, Daryl saw Dixon and Beth doing perimeter check, riding very slowly on his motorcycle. He hoped the kid wasn't putting too much pressure on his ankle that way. Beth sat on the little seat, pressed against Dixon's back, her arms wrapped around him from behind and her legs tight against his. Daryl supposed he had figured out how to get her comfortable with touching again. And seeing them riding together gave him the urge to take his own motorcyle for a spin.
When he found Carol updating inventory in the pantry, he leaned in the open doorway. "Hey, Miss Murphy," he said. "Wanna go for a ride?"
Carol smiled, and they spent the next thirty minutes flying around the park on his motorcycle, weaving through the maze of paths, wind in their hair.
December 15
Carol spent the day studying under Hershel. She shadowed him as he checked on the animals and asked a lot of questions about his work and medicine in general.
Daryl returned early from the hunt again, this time because he'dcome across an escaped chicken limping through the woods and caught it up in a sack he'd brought for carrying small game.
Hershel examined the chicken and found it to be unbitten by walkers, but its leg was broken and had developed a staph infection. "I could try treating the leg and splinting it," he said. "But it looks pretty far gone, and this one is getting on in age and probably not laying very much. I think it's best just to put her out of her misery before the infection spreads beyond the leg."
That afternoon, Sophia learned to pluck a chicken, and that evening, Carol made rotisserie for dinner.
December 16
Daryl came home covered in mud, blood, and guts. Carol gasped when she opened the gate for him.
"No bites," he reassured her. "Killed ten walkers. Fuckers got my deer. And I broke two bolts."
"Ten?" she asked as she swung the gate shut behind him.
"Probably from the herd at the farm. Some likely broke off in packs chasin' animals. This way and that."
"I thought you were going to sit in your blind, not run all over the forest."
"Did. Shot a deer, but it ran. Had to blood track it. Found the walkers feastin' on it."
"Maybe don't go so near the farm in the forest for another week or so," she suggested as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped some mud from his face to reveal a scratch. "Tell me that's not a walker scratch."
"Branches," he muttered.
"Well let's get you in the shower." Carol began walking.
Daryl smirked as he fell in step beside her. "Joinin' me?"
"You wouldn't agree to the excess use of water."
"Two showers for the price of one," he replied. "That's conservation."
When they got back, no one was home, so they did slip into the downstairs hall bathroom shower together. Carol scrubbed him clean between kisses, and then he took his turn on her, finding her breasts, it seemed, to be particularly in need of cleaning. "You're a dirty, dirty girl, Miss Murphy," he murrmurred as he nipped at her neck and sudded each firm mound.
They used enough water for two showers after all, until the stream turned cold, and so they decided to consummate what they had begun outside the shower, after peeking wet heads into the hallway to see if the coast was clear, and then scurrying, wrapped in towels, for the bedroom.
December 17
Daryl came home around dinner time, this time with a small deer. He quartered and hung it in the cellar to age and preserve it, because the freezer was full. "One more and we should be set for winter," he told Carol.
He heated his plate in the microwave and scarfed down dinner and then added his dish to those T-Dog was washing.
"D&D tonight?" he asked Sophia as she walked into the kitchen.
"No, Carl is calling tonight." She sat in the chair at the kitchen desk in front of the radio and glanced at the clock.
"Oh." It wasn't that Daryl particularly liked D&D, but he was a little disappointed Carl was taking precedence over him. "Yeah. Forgot."
Soon, the entire household was gathered around the kitchen table or in the breakfast nook, leaned on counters or sitting in chairs as the Grimes family and Andrea gave them an update. Lori reported that the town house was now thoroughly cleaned and considerably more family friendly and that Carl had started school.
"I'm in the upper school," Carl told Sophia. "It's for teenagers, which I'm not quite yet but they did an academic evaluation thing and decided to put me there. It meets after lunch, from one to four, and the lower school meets before lunch, from nine to twelve. It's just me and five other kids in the upper school. We only get off Christmas Eve, Christmas, the day after Christmas, and New Year's Day! Not two whole weeks like in the time before."
"The time before," Carol whispered to Daryl where they stood shoulder to shoulder against the kitchen bar. "They have theirown lingo.
"But it's not so bad," Carl continued. "I'm making friends. I already got a D&D group going! We meet tomorrow evening! Over."
"That's cool," Sophia told him. "How many people? Over."
"Four, including me," Carl replied. "Jody's coming. He's fifteen and he's really cool. He rides a skateboard!"
"I can ride a skateboard," Glenn muttered from the kitchen table.
Maggie made a pouting face at him and then patted his head, and Glenn rolled his eyes.
"And Patrick," Carl continued. "He's fifteen, too. He just got here yesterday. He's even newer than me. The supply runners found him and these three other people living in a – "
"- No locations!" Rick warned.
"- in a secret magic dungeon somewhere," continued Carl. "And the secret magic dungeon had a food pantry, so they were living off that, and there was still a little bit of food left they brought back with them. Patrick's kind of a geek, he has these really big glasses, but I bet he's good at D&D. And Owen's coming, too. He's only eleven, but we're letting him come anyway. Over."
"Wow!" Sophia replied. "It sounds like you've made a lot of friends already. I wish I was there to play D&D with you. Over."
"Well, can you come on…" Carl paused because he was trying to compute the date according to the code they'd agreed upon.
"21 32," Rick said from behind.
That was December 23rd.
"If you stay overnight, we can play D&D in the evening. Over."
"Can I? Can I, Mom?" Sophia pleaded, keeping her finger off the talk button for now.
Carol glanced at Daryl, who nodded. "Sure," Carol told her. "We need to make our first trade trip soon anyway. Daryl and I will take you."
"And we can stay the night?" Sophia asked.
"Yes," Carol told her. That would still put them back in Fun Kingdom for Christmas day, which she wanted to spend with Mika and Luke and Andre.
Sophia clicked the talk button. "I'm coming!" she said excitedly. "I can bring new dice for everyone and extra D&D books. Over."
"That would be awesome!" Carl replied. "I just have two sets of dice and the three books I brought. They were going to borrow mine all the time. Except Patrick. He said he's going to whittle his own dice. Total geek. Over."
"Well, that's pretty cool if he can whittle dice," Sophia replied. "That's really detailed. Over."
Rick took over the CB and informed them that elections were being held tomorrow for a town council after a few days of campaigning. Woodbury – which they called Rome when talking over the CB (Fun Kingdom was Egypt) – had decided it wanted a council rather than just a mayor. The council would consist of five members, one of whom would serve as the mayor and the chairman. "The ballot was finalized today, and everyone over the age fifteen and up gets to vote."
"Not fair," Carl could be heard saying behind him. "It should be twelve and up!"
"A man named Milton Mamet is on the ballot and seems to have a lot of support." Rick had apparently agreed with Andrea and Lori that the use of real names was acceptable. "That made me a little nervous at first because he was in the Governor's inner circle, but he seems harmless enough. He's a bureaucratic type."
"And a scientific researcher," Andrea said from behind him. "He has a Ph.D. in biochemistry from MIT."
"Yes, we all know you're impressed," Lori said drolly.
"Anyway, we'll check in in two days to let you know the results," Rick continued. "Same bat time, same bat channel. Over and out."
December 18
T-Dog and Glenn brought in a fake Christmas tree from one of the park's storage closets and several boxes of decorations. The group set the tree up before the bookcase in the living room – with some cursing from Daryl as he tried to figure out which branches fit where. Sophia wanted to put on one of the string of lights in the box.
"Ain't a good use of power," Daryl told her.
Carol rested a hand on the small of his back. "We'd only plug it in a thirty minutes each night, and we'd do it instead of the regular lights in the evening. I like Christmas lights. They're so pretty."
"Fine," he muttered. "But I ain't untanglin' that string."
"I'll do it. I'm an expert with tangled Christmas lights."
Once the lights were on, the kids went to town covering the whole thing in gaudy displays of silver tinsel and red and blue bulb ornaments. Andre put at least six in one spot toward the bottom of the tree. They had to scold the dogs to keep them from toppling the whole thing. A fake green garland was draped over the mantle as the final, crowning Christmas touch.
The tree was plugged in, and Beth took up a guitar she'd found in the park that had been used by one of the strolling musicians and led the group in Christmas carols.
Daryl stood with one arm slung over the mantle, not singing, and Carol slipped a hand in his back pocket beside him and asked, "Not going to join in any of the reindeer games, Pookie?"
He bent his head, put his lip to her ear, and murmured, "Play a naughty game with you later tonight, Miss Murphy."
Carol chuckled.
Beth sang "O Holy Night" on her own, while the others listened in silence. "Wow," Dixon told her. "I had no idea you could sing like that."
"I was going to apply to school for music," she said. "When I graduated high school. But…you know."
That night, Carol snuggled in with her head on Daryl's chest. They'd switched sides of the bed so she could do that without rolling onto her stitched leg. He toyed with her hair lazily and asked, "Expect me to get you a Christmas present?"
"Well, I wish you wouldn't put it like that. But I'd like one, sure."
"Just…wouldn't know what to get ya. Can get any damn thing you want anytime you want in the shops."
"It's the thought that counts. Surprise me."
"Fuck."
Carol laughed. "You don't have to worry. You give the best gift."
"Don't give any gifts," he muttered.
"You gave me a box of Dots once. You gave me two beautiful knives, both with stories. And you gave me your Leatherman multitool."
"Huh," he said, as though it hadn't occurred to him those were gifts. "Well…can ya count one of those as yer Christmas present?"
"No."
"Fuck."
December 19
The four large, egg-shelled, space-age chairs had been discarded from the kitchen nook because they took up too much room. The table now had six smaller wooden chairs from the Royal Banquet surrounding it instead. Glenn, Maggie, Carol, T-Dog, Michonne, and Patricia played cards around the table while Sophia waited impatiently by the CB for the scheduled check-in from Woodbury. She kept glancing at the space-ship clock. Andre, Luke, and Mika sat on the island counter, next to the stovetop, swinging their legs.
"They'll call soon," Carol assured her daughter. She drew a card, arranged her hand, and then discarded.
Beth was doing the dishes from dinner, and Dixon, leaned on his crutches, dried the plate she handed him with a towel before stacking it on the counter.
The CB crackled, but it wasn't Carl's voice that came in. Instead, a soothing female voice said: "Terminus. Sanctuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive, survive. Join us for food, shelter, and protection from the dead at the terminus of the Fulton County Railway. Terminus. Sanctuary for all. Community for all…"