Red River Blue

Chapter 32

Michonne heard Daryl grumbling under his breath. She understood his frustration, but there was nothing to be done about it. Too many people were sick. That left them without many options of who to take with them on the run to the veterinary college. They needed that medication or more people were going to die.

"You take me huntin' with ya all the time," Harley reminded her Uncle. She slung her bow into the backseat, being more careful with the sheath of arrows so they didn't tip and spill all over the floorboards. "This ain't no different." Daryl replied with a snort as he slid behind the driver's seat of the Dodge Charger that used to belong to Zach. He knew he took Harley hunting, but this wasn't hunting. This was a run to an unscouted location that had the potential to be extremely dangerous. He didn't want Harley coming. But he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Harley was young, but she was capable. The more people they had to go on this run, the safer they were. They needed her. He knew it and Harley sure as hell knew it.

Harley shrugged her shoulders. Michonne stopped and leaned in close on her way around to the other side of the car, bumping her hip into Harley's and giving her a wink. Daryl might be hesitant about bringing his niece along, but Michonne was happy to have the girl as part of the team. Despite still having some reservations about the girl's father, Michonne trusted Harley and had seen her in enough tough situations to know that the girl didn't panic when the pressure got turned up. This was a quality that Michonne felt was much more important than brute strength or how good a shot someone was. None of that counted for shit if the person was going to tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble. Or even worse start screaming and get them all killed.

Bob rounded out the group. He didn't go on many runs. So Michonne had yet to form an opinion about him. She wasn't even sure if he could could hit what he was aiming for with gun he had strapped to his belt. But he was the only person with any medical knowledge that wasn't sick or missing a leg. Bob would know what medications they needed and what could be used as a substitute if the ones on Hershel's list weren't readily available. So he was coming.

Michonne and Harley both climbed into the backseat, shifting their weapons around until they were as comfortable as they were going to get. Despite numerous offers from the car's previous owner, Harley had never been in the backseat of this particular vehicle. The seats were leather and there was more leg room than she guessed there would be. That didn't stop Harley from jamming her knees into the back of her uncle's seat a few times. That's what Daryl got for treating her like a baby and making her ask her mom if it was alright for her to come on this run.

Once she was done tormenting her uncle, Harley leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes as Daryl fired the engine up. The motor had a nice purr to it, a smooth rolling rumble that sounded much different than the clunky trucks they usually drove around. Harley smiled, thinking maybe if the run went well she might be able to drive on the way back. Her mother let her drive their camper, but she had never driven a car as fast as this one before. It might be fun. And if there was one thing Harely's tumultuous life had taught her, it was to enjoy what you had while you had it.

Daryl rolled the window down, resting his arm on the doorframe so his elbow was sticking out. Maggie was down by the main gate, ready at the pull rope to open the fences and let them out. Daryl hesistated, scrubbing at his goatee with his fingers and staring into the rearview mirror at the giant cement building behind them. Carol always told him goodbye before he left on a run. Always. This was the first time she hadn't and he realized he was sitting and hoping she might rush out and the last minute and lean into the car to wrap one of her slim arms around his neck. She had been acting strange around him the last few days, but he had figured she was just worried about all the sick people. Carol spent too much time taking care of everyone else and not enough taking care of herself. He was afraid the stress might make her more suseptable to the sickness that was going around. Just another reason to hurry back with the medication he was going out to get.

Just as Daryl started to pull the shifter to put the car into drive, he did see someone rushing out of the prison. But it wasn't Carol like he had been hoping. It was River. She had a paper bag in her hands, which she shoved in through the window. Food for everyone. River leaned in through the open window and hugged Daryl around the neck, telling him loudly to be careful and the run and keep an eye on Harley. But Daryl picked up on a strange tone in her voice. She hadn't come to bring him the food, or to tell him to be careful. As she hugged his neck she hissed into his ear.

"Hurry the fuck up and git back here," she whispered, "Merle's sick." Her voice was so low and her words so quick, Daryl wasn't even sure if he heard her right. But when she backed up he saw the fear showing plainly on her face. She was afraid, but she hadn't given up yet. He saw determination on her face mixed in with the stress that made the crook in her nose go sideways. River tapped lightly on Harley's window, giving her daughter a wave goodbye before she turned in her heel and ran back inside the building.

TWD

"Are you in charge?," Wren asked the older girl. Beth smiled at her and shifted Judith to her other hip. Judith used the opportunity to reach for the long braid of Beth's hair that was hanging down over that shoulder. She grasped it, smiling and waving her golden prize around in the air. Wren giggled at the happy baby before she reached over to gently remove Beth's hair from Judith's tight grasp before poor Beth got all the hair yanked clean out of her head.

"Yeah," Mika chimed in, "you're the oldest, are you in charge?"

Beth shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't really sure who was in charge. Her dad told her to get the kids and take them all to the administration building. He was afraid Judith would die if she caught the flu. So like the good girl she was, Beth did as she was told. But beyond getting the kids over here and away from the sickness, Beth hadn't thought much further ahead. Now they were gathering around her like a flock of nervous birds, looking to her for guidance. Something she wasn't used to providing. It felt like they were all asking her a million questions at once.

Who's in charge? What are we going to eat for dinner? Where are we going to sleep? How long do we have to stay in here? Can I hold the baby? This place is boring, what are we supposed to do in here all day?

Beth felt like her head was spinning. She was scared. More scared than she remembered being in quite a while. There was always a level of fear to living in this new world, but this sickness was far beyond that. Beth was scared for Glenn, who was sick now. Even more scared for Maggie, who was going to lose her shit if Glenn died. She was terrified for her father, who she knew was going to try and help the sick even though it meant he would probably get sick himself. But what scared Beth the most was that everyone outside this office building might get sick. They might die and leave her alone with a group of children to care for. She wasn't even sure if she could take care of herself.

"Hey!," Carl shouted, effectively shutting up the rest of the group and getting their attention. Once they were listening he started barking out orders. Telling the kids which office they were sleeping in and to go get the cushions off all the couches and make beds on the floor with them.

Beth breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to the boy for taking over. Carl reminded her of a pint sized version of his father, and having mini Rick in charge made Beth more relief than she thought she really ought to. She carried Judith over to a chair inside the large office Carl had picked out as a base of operations and sat down. Her head felt like it was spinning and she couldn't remember the last time she had anything to eat. During the day, Beth had been putting on a brave face for her family and friends, but Zach's death had affected her more than she let on. She hadn't slept in days. Every time Beth fell asleep her dreams were filled with all the horrible ways the young man might have died. Beth had been adamant about not knowing the details of his death, but now she wished she had let Daryl or Harley tell her. Nothing could be worse than the things she was imagining.

"I can take her," Wren offered, lifting Judith out of Beth's lap, "You look tired." Beth nodded gratefully and got up to shuffle over to where the other kids were tossing the cushions they were hauling in from the other offices. Wren watched Beth lower herself down onto the floor and rest her head on a large square cushion. A few minutes later, the young woman was asleep. It was hard to do things with a wiggly baby in her arms, but Wren managed to yank a blanket out of the bag her mom had packed for her. She covered Beth up with it, pulling it up around the older girl's shoulders just as Judith started to fuss.

Wren had been eager to hold Judith. She had chubby little baby cheeks and she was always smiling and giggling. But now that the little girl was starting to fuss, Wren wasn't sure what to do with her. Being the youngest in her family, Wren didn't have much experience with babies. She patted Judith on the back and bounced her around a little, but it didn't seem to make her any happier. The little girl started crying louder. Wren carried her out into the hall to keep her from waking Beth. They were inside and safe from the dead, but the loud way Judith was crying still made Wren feel the panic start to boil inside her.

Wren felt tap on her shoulder. The sensation startled her and she spun so fast her ponytail swung out away from her head. Instinct made Wren shift the small child in her arms away from whoever had touched her, keeping the baby away from any perceived danger.

"Sorry," Carl said, offering Wren up the bottle he had just made for his sister along with a sheepish grin, "I didn't mean to scare you." Wren smiled at him. She would be hard pressed to decided if she was more happy to see Carl or the bottle of formula in his hands. Judith spotted the bottle and started howling louder. Wren grabbed the bottle and stuffed it into the child's mouth. As soon as Judith gulped down the first few sips, she calmed down. The movements of her jaw became more rhythmic and her eyes started to droop shut.

Wren felt Carl's hand on her back again but this time it didn't startle her. He put his larger hand over her smaller one, adjusting the way Wren was holding the bottle to keep Judith from swallowing down too much air. Instead of jerking away from his touch, this time Wren found herself leaning into him. When she first got to the prison, Carl was almost the same height as her, but more and more she was noticing that she was having to tilt her head back to look him in the face. Soon he was going to be able to rest his chin on her forehead. Wren used to wish to be bigger and taller. Like her sister. But now she wasn't so sure. It felt good to be leaning into someone that felt so much bigger and stronger than her.

"I'm so glad yer here," Wren murmured, her voice barely above a whisper now that Judith was falling asleep in her arms, "I'd be scared without you." Carl wasn't sure what to say in response to her simple declaration. It made him feel good in a way he hadn't known he could feel. So instead of talking he pulled Wren closer and wrapped his arms around her and the baby she was holding.

She leaned further into his touch, resting her against his shoulder. When Carl turned his head towards her, his lips pressed against her hair. He had never given much thought to how anyone's hair felt. Hair was just there. Wren's was long and pretty, but he never thought touching his lips to it would feel better than anything he had ever felt before. She smelled like honey from that hive they knocked down and campfire smoke from the fire they started to smoke out the bees. His dad had really given him the business when he found out what they had been up to, but Wren's dad only laughed. River used the last of the shortening to make them sugar biscuits to dip into the honey and they both gorged themselves until they were sticky sweet from their fingers to their elbows.

"What are we gonna do if...," Wren's voice hitched and she choked a little on her words, "...if all the big people get sick?" Her words made Carl smile. Not because he thought everyone getting sick was funny, but because of the way Wren referred to all the grown ups as big people like they were giants and she was a tiny fairy. It was about the cutest thing Carl ever heard. And her voice was so soft and sweet. It wasn't high pitched like the other girls their age. It was lower and softer, like her mother's.

"I can take care of you," Carl told her, finally speaking up through the swirl of thoughts in his head. Wren turned in his arms, tilting her head back to look up at him. For a moment he thought she might be ready to mock him and tell him he was just a boy and there was no way he could take care of anyone. But instead she looked like she was trying to figure out if he was teasing her instead. Which of course he wasn't. He had never been more serious about anything in his life than he was about taking care of Wren.

Whatever Wren saw on his face erased the indecision on hers. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a whisper of a smile and then her eyes fluttered shut. She was leaning towards him, her face so close to his that he could feel her breathing. It took Carl a moment before he realized that she was leaning towards him with her eyes closed because she expected him to kiss her. His head started spinning again and he looked down at the girl in his arms. He quickly tried to decide if he wanted to kiss her. Wren was his friend. His best friend. He wasn't sure if kissing his friend was a good idea. And Carl had never kissed anyone before. He wasn't sure if he would like it.

One more look at Wren's full pink lips and he decided that he did want to kiss her. Badly. He closed his eyes, his tounge darting out nervously to wet his lips. Time slowed down. It felt like an hour passed as Carl blinked his own eyes shut and leaned down to press his lips to hers. His nose brushed against hers and then they were kissing. Well maybe not really kissing, but his lips were touching hers. She was pressing back against him with her mouth, starting to move her lips a little instead of just standing there awkwardly with her mouth touching his.

The loud sound of someone clearing their throat nearby brought a abrupt hault to any and all romatic activities. Wren jerked away, squeaking out her surprise at seeing another person standing only a few feet away from them. Carl spun to face the intruder. Hershel was standing in the empty hall with them, looking lke he was trying very hard to keep a serious expression on his face. The man was holding a bucket in his hands and looked like he was dressed for some sort of outside the fences excursion.

"Where you going?," Carl asked, nodding towards the bucket in Hershel's hands and the gun on his hip. As Carl waited for the man to answer his hand unconciously snaked up towards his mouth. He felt his lips with the tips of his fingers, feeling to make sure they hadn't been altered by the contact he had with Wren. As though her brief kiss had the power to change the shape and texture of his anatomy. His lips had sure felt different when they were pressed against hers. And instead of slacking his thirst for her, he found that kissing her had only intensified his desire to have her in his arms again. But now his lips felt almost back to normal again.

"I need to make something for the sick, try to help them if I can," Hershel explained, "I'm going out to look for some home remedies." Hershel stopped. He was torn between taking control of the youngsters that appeared to be running somewhat wild inside the administration building and his pressing need to do something to help the people that were dying in the next cellblock over. The sick were going to have to take precedence over the face sucking teenagers. But Hershel decided he was going to stop in and have a quick word with Wren's mother on his way to the cellblock where the people with flu symptoms were being sequestered. Wren and Carl were sweet together, and probably too young to get into any real trouble. But Hershel wasn't fond of the idea of them living and sleeping alone in these offices without any adult supervision.

"Can't let you go out there," Carl told the old man. He glanced at Wren. Carl didn't want to leave her alone, especially after he had just promised to take care of her. But he couldn't let Hershel go outside by himself either. He would get ate up for sure. Wren bobbed her head at him like she understood what he was thinking. Then she shifted the sleeping baby that was getting very heavy in her arms and smiled at him. Carl should go with Hershel. She could keep an eye on things while he was gone. She wasn't totally helpless.

"Can't let me go...," Hershel repeated. Carl didn't seem to understand who he was talking to. Hershel was the adult here. Not Carl.

"Well," Carl said, softening his tone, "I can make sure you don't go out there alone."