The Wolf You Feed
Chapter 8
Rowan stared down at the small puddle of blood. Its not that much blood. Its really not that much. Daryl would not die of blood loss. And he was gone. If he was dead, whoever took him would have left him here. No one would waste time and energy carrying around the dead body of someone they didn't even know. Not even Rowan. She put her hand against the closest tree and took a few deep breaths, trying to slow her breathing down so she could think more clearly.
Daryl was not going to come for her. She was going to have to find him. But there was a problem with that. Daryl was the tracker, not her. Rowan scolded herself. All those hunting and tracking lessons Daryl had given her. Why hadn't she been paying attention to the lesson instead of staring at his arms? Rowan thought about her father, knowing if the man was here, he would not be impressed with her right now. Daryl was hurt, possibly kidnapped and all she was doing was standing next to a tree crying like a little baby. If she was the one that had been burt and carried away by strangers, she knew Daryl would be busting his ass looking for her.
"Quit your crying and go look for him then," Rowan muttered to herself, trying to sound tougher than she felt. First thing was first. Rowan grabbed up Daryl's crossbow and slung it over her back, wincing since she flung it too fast and the bottom part slammed into her lower back. She adjusted the bow until it was in a comfortable position resting over her shoulder. Then she started making some feeble attempts to follow the trail of the people that took Daryl. Rowan only made it back to the bush where she found the scrap of Carl's shirt before she had no idea which way to go next.
If Tank was here, Rowan knew he could track the people with his nose. But Tank wasn't here. He was back at camp with Enid. Rowan smiled at how silly she was being. She was dumb to try and do this alone when she had all the help she needed just a short horse ride away. Rowan untied the horse's reigns from the tree branch where she had fastened them and pulled herself up onto Molly's back. She didn't keep hold of Comet's reigns this time. She was planning to ride way too fast for that. He would follow Molly anyway. Rowan clasped her crystal and gave a silent thanks to whoever might be listening that she had at least been paying attention on the way to find the horses so she would be able to find her way back.
Kicking her heels in, Rowan leaned forward and gripped on with her thighs, giving Molly the signal to run. She kept her head down, hearing the branches of trees whip by over her as they sped through the forest. Her hair was flying out behind her, mixing in with the long hair of Molly's mane and tail. The horse's strong muscles bunched and shifted in a steady rhythm between her thighs. Water splashed up on the legs of Rowan's pants as they trampled through a familiar creek. Rowan breathed a sigh of relief, since now she knew for sure she was going the right way. When they were almost back at camp, Rowan sat up and pulled back on Molly's reigns to slow her down.
Rowan heard the howling before she saw him. Tank would not stop trying to run away after Rowan, and Enid had been forced to wrap his leash around a sturdy tree to keep him there. And then the dumb dog wouldn't shut up. He had been whining and barking and carrying on like a wounded moose, attracting every walker in the area into their camp. Enid had to start piling up the bodies over by her tent, cursing and calling Tank every nasty name she could think of while she was doing it.
"Molly!," Enid cried out, running over to hug the horse around the neck. Rowan jumped down and started over to release Tank. He broke the leash before she could get there and ran for her. She crouched down and let the big dog rush into her arms. He covered her face and neck with his sloppy wet dog kisses.
"Where's Carl and Daryl?," Enid asked. Rowan came riding in all crazy and fast, so she figured the guys were walking. They would be along in a minute. Then she saw Rowan's face. The woman looked sad and scared at the same time, never a good sign. And she had Daryl's crossbow on her back. Another bad sign. He let the woman shoot it sometimes, but she never took off with it on her own.
"Oh god, are they dead?," Enid asked. Her bottom lip started to quiver and her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
"No, no," Rowan told her, rushing for the girl to wrap her arms around her, "They're not dead. But someone took them." Rowan reached into her pocket and pulled out the scrap of Carl's shirt that she had found tangled up in the flattened bush. She stuffed it into Enid's hand and the girl curled her fist around the peice of material, as if by keeping it safe in her hand, she could keep Carl safe too.
TWD
The horses were packed with the bare minimum of supplies the girls thought they might need. The rest had been stashed up between the high branches of a tree. They could come back for that stuff later. Supplies were just supplies. They could always be replaced. People could not be. Rowan stood next to Molly, holding the horse's reigns and staring at her dogs.
"What are we going to do about Morgan?," Enid asked. Rowan chewed at her lip, looking down at the dog. Morgan was walking around fine, but he was still sore. She knew he wasn't going to be able to keep up with her and Enid once they got on the horses. Rowan felt like she was being forced to make a terrible choice. Storm clouds were threatening and they had to get Tank to the trail Daryl and Carl's captors had left behind before it started raining. They needed to get there as fast as possible. But Morgan needed to take it slow. Rowan squared up her shoulders.
"He is just going to have to follow behind us at his own pace," she said, trying to sound more sure of her decision than she felt about it. She felt Enid's hand come down on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
"He can follow us with his nose," Enid reminded her. She knew this was hard on her friend. It was hard on her too. Despite Tank's recent obnoxious antics, the big dog had saved her life more times than she could count and Enid loved both dogs like family. She didn't want to have to run and leave Morgan behind when he was hurt. But they had to find the guys. Sometimes there was no good choice. "He'll be okay."
Rowan tore her eyes away from the gangly white dog and forced herself to climb up onto her horse. Enid quickly did the same. Since she knew where they were going, Rowan led the way. This worked out best since Molly got stubborn if she was forced to ride behind Comet. The girls rode fast. Tank was able to keep up, but Morgan slowed fell behind until he could no longer be seen.
When they approached the clearing, Rowan was ready to ride in head first, but Enid signaled for her to stop. There were other people around. Possibly violent and dangerous people. Enid had no interest in getting snatched up. They couldn't help the guys if they got kidnapped themselves. Stashing the horses a little further back in the woods, the girls crept forward and watched the clearing for a while. Rowan was getting antsy, wanting to take Tank over and start following the trail. Especially since a light rain was starting to fall. Little droplets trickled down through the trees and rested on their arms and hair in a light mist. But Enid made her wait. And it was a good thing she did.
Not ten minutes after they got there, Rowan and Enid spotted them. A small group of about four people carrying up a huge load of horsemeat from the under the bridge. They had it on a hammock that they were supporting with two long sturdy poles. Each person had one end of a pole. Rowan knew Tank saw the people too, since he emitted a low growl from deep in his throat. He better not start fucking barking and give us away, Enid thought. Rowan must have been thinking the same thing because she shushed the dog up in a hurry, holding close and putting her mouth gently around his muzzle to keep him quiet. At least Morgan had not caught up with them yet, or his silly puppy butt would probably be chasing after these psycho's to beg for a treat.
"Lets follow them," Enid whispered. Rowan nodded. They left the horses where they were for the time being and circled around the clearing instead of cutting through so they could keep themselves hidden. Despite the heavy load the people were carrying, they were long gone by the time Rowan and Enid got around to the other side of the clearing. Rowan showed Enid the spot where Daryl and Carl had been taken. Enid picked up the stick that Daryl had been hit with and turned it around in her hands, looking at it. Rowan was about to set Tank on the trail when her head popped up.
"I think I hear voices," Rowan said, her own voice barely above a whisper. Enid's hand clamped down around her arm and she hauled Rowan quickly away from the spot and pulled her down behind a bush. Tank followed them and Rowan wrapped her arms around the dog to keep him quiet. She did hear voices. And they were coming this way.
"...what do you think she's going to do with him?," one said.
"He's good looking so what do you think," the other voice answered in a nasty tone that shut the person that was asking the questions up in a hurry.
The people passed by Rowan and Enid's hiding place, only missing them by a few feet. Rowan was surprised to see that what she had assumed was a group of men was actually all women. They were dressed in men's clothing and they all had short haircuts. The one that looked the youngest, her hair was so short it looked like it was growing back from being shaved bald.
"You think Daryl and Carl got snatched up by a bunch of women?," Enid whispered, wrinkling up her nose.
"Maybe they were hurt and these women took them to a doctor," Rowan suggested hopefully. Enid rolled her eyes at the other woman.
"Don't be stupid Rowan, Daryl didn't hit himself over the head with that club," she hissed back. Rowan sighed and shrugged her shoulders. She felt the same familiar frustrations rising up in her. Why couldn't some people they met just be nice? Were only mean, nasty rude people the only ones left alive in this world? Deep down, she knew Enid was right but a few moments later she got physical proof that these women were up to no good.
When they passed close by, Rowan noticed one of the women had a familiar item strapped to her waist. Daryl's knife. She knew it was his. The sheath it was in had been a present from her. She beaded it during the winter when they were stuck inside because of the snow. And her dad had carved the designs on the handle. His artwork could never be bought. He only made things for people he liked.
Rowan watched the women disappear down the hill, heading to pick up another load of horsemeat. She felt her fists clench as an unfamiliar feeling rose up inside her. Anger. It tasted metallic in her mouth, like she was sucking on a penny. These women hurt Daryl. They took him away from her. Maybe they hurt him simply because they wanted the things the man had on him at the time. His gun and knife. They were the bad people Rowan had been seeing in her dreams. And now they were going to get what was coming to them.
