The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 22

Leaning back against her father's shoulder, Rowan let the motion of the moving car lull her into a state that was somewhere between fully awake and fully alseep. Not only was she phsically tired, she also felt emotionally drained from the events of the last two weeks. Tank was sitting on the floor between her knees, his giant head resting in her lap. She noticed he had been sniffing at her more than usual, and nuzzling at the small hard lump between her hip bones. Rowan wouldn't be surprised if the dog knew she was pregnant. Animals were more intuitive than people in lots of ways.

Without opening her eyes, she ran her fingers over his thick black fur, stroking the spot on his forehead where his fur was the softest and the silkiest. Tank shifted his large body, trying to edge in just a little closer to her. He had ripped his bandage off again, but since his wounds were scabbing over and healing, Rown decided not to try and rewrap him. Her father reached over, giving the dog a few soft strokes. Rowan didn't see him, but she could feel the shift of his body and the subtle movements of her dog as he leaned into the man's affections.

She and Daryl had set out to have an adventure. They wanted to catch fish and cook them over the fire. Camp out under the stars and visit the place where Rowan was born. In the end they had gotten a whole lot more adventure than they had bargained for. Daryl had been taken hostage and Rowan had almost been killed. Carl and Enid had both almost been kidnapped or killed. Rowan decided she was done with adventures.

Rowan found herself looking forward to getting back to Alexandria. To the place that now felt like home to her. Once they got back, she planned to stay put this time. She missed her friends, her horses and her goats. The unfinished business that had called her back to her birthplace had been dealt with. Responsible and caring people were now in charge of the group. The two boys that Amanda hurt had their legs set back in place, though neither would ever be fast runners and Rowan knew their hips would probably dislocate more easily than the hips of normal men. Lauren had given birth to a beautiful set of twins. One boy and one girl. A good omen. Once Rowan held the sweet sleeping babes in her arms, she knew the horrible nightmares that had been waking her every night were gone forever. They had been replaced by much more pleasant dreams of her mother.

Not been much had been left of the woman's remains. That was what Rowan's father told her. He made Rowan stay outside with Aaron while he and Daryl wrapped what was left of her mother's corpse up in a colorful blanket. Rowan cut off a braided length of her mother's hair and wrapped it up in a bit of white lace. Then she watched her husband and her father bury her mother under her favorite willow tree. Rowan sprinkled the first small handful of dirt over the body. Then she sat on the grass and cried as she watched them cover the body with earth. When she got home, Rowan planned to sew the long copper strands of her mother's hair into the lining of the baby blanket she was making for her daughter. That way her mother's spirit would always be with them.

Going back to her mother's home meant Rowan was able to take some of the things she had to leave behind when she and her father had run for their lives. She now had her mother's spell book, which was actually not really much of a spell book and more of a collection of recipes for herbal medicines that had the woman had spent most of her life collecting. Along with the book, Rowan took her mother's medical supplies. Daryl and Aaron helped her pack the many tiny glass jars, wrapping them in cut up socks and blankets to keep them from breaking on the way home to Alexandria. They were all labeled meticulously in her mother's small even script. There were tinctures in tiny dropper bottles, small flat tins with salves inside, plus jars after jars after jars full of dried herbs and flowers.

Rowan had taken a few of her mother's favorite dresses. She was wearing one now, a long pale teal dress with an abstract circular pattern on the front. Pregnancy had made Rowan a lot more full in the chest than she had been the last time she borrowed the dress. Now she filled out the top and didn't have to try and tie the halter straps tighter to make it fit. Wearing it made her feel close to her mother and she liked to think she could still smell the woman's scent lingering in the fabric. Rowan was debating on keeping and wearing the other dresses, or taking them apart and making baby clothes for her daughter out of the material.

The thing Rowan was happiest about was something far less practical than herbal medicine or even clothing. She now had her mother's tarot cards. The well worn set that the corners had worn off of years ago. People had given her mother countless other sets of cards over the years, but she only ever used this one deck. Rowan remembered sitting on her mother's lap while the woman let her hold the beautifully painted cards in her small freckled hands, explaining what each one meant. Rowan wasn't sure if she would be able to bring herself to ever use the cards, she had been overwhelmed with emotion just holding the deck in her hands, but she took them. She wouldn't have even considered leaving them behind.

Rowan didn't open her eyes, but she felt someone covering her with a warm blanket. Her father slid his body closer to Spencer, so that Rowan's head was resting in his lap instead of against his shoulder. Morgan crowded in, trying to lick at her face. Tank growled at the much skinnier pup until he whined and scampered away to lay back down under Abraham's long legs. Lily and Aaron's dog Marilyn were in the front of the RV, sitting between Aaron and Daryl so they could look out the windows as they drove.

The sound of frenzied barking woke Rowan from her nap. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother's words were still bouncing around in her head. Cover your ears. Rowan didn't have time to stop and comtemplate what the message might mean. The RV was no longer moving, but the engine was still running. Spencer, Aaron and Eric were crowded up near the front, looking out the windshield. Daryl, Abraham and her father were grabbing for weapons.

"What's going on?," Rowan asked. She could barely hear herself think over the loud racket of four giant dogs barking at once.

"Just stay in here," Daryl warned her.

"Take tank and go hide in the back of the RV," her father added, pointing in the direction he wanted her to go. Then the three men piled out the door, guns up. Rowan glanced toward the bedroom section of the RV, briefly considering listening to what she had been told to do. Then she charged towards the front, squeezing in between Aaron and Spencer to get a look at what was going on.

There were men blocking the road. A large group of them. They were on motorcycles. Rowan knew this meant that they were probably the same group of people that had tried to stop Carl and Enid when they were riding back to Alexandria on their horses. This also meant they were the type of men that hung out near the highway to try and rob or kill travelers as they passed through the area. Bad men. Rowan concentrated on the men. They were spread out like a flock of geese. The man in the point position seemed to be in charge so Rowan looked at him first. He had an unusual aura. It slicked back off his head like the fur on an otter. The aura was brown with greed, but also streaked with the bright orange that signified courage and self control.

Spencer and Aaron were checking their own guns, having a quick and rushed discussion about whether it would be better for them to show themselves or stay hidden. Lily and Tank were at the door of the RV. Lily was barking and Tank was scratching at the door, trying to get it open. They were both being very naughty and Rowan knew if her dogs got outside and started going after the men on the motorcycles, it was not going to improve the situation. Those men looked mean. And they had guns. They would shoot her dogs if they thought the animals were a threat.

Tank still had his collar off, since it was rubbing on one of his healing cuts, so Rowan wrapped her arms around his neck and tried draggin him back. He had his paws locked into the edge of the door, nails digging in. All she managed to do when she added her combined weight to his was to pry the damn door wide open, forcing the hinges to bend in the wrong direction. When Tank lost his grip the door snapped back and flung wide open. Both dogs charged out and Rowan half slid half tumbled down the steps behind them, landing on her butt on the pavement. She couldn't hear Daryl suck in his breath over the loud barking of the dogs. But she felt it. A sharp intake of air. He was afraid she hurt herself or the baby when she fell.

Only three men had come out of the RV. They were armed, but the leader knew his gang had the numbers. From the clean look of them and the dogs barking inside the vehicle, it was obvious they were not living on the road. They to be set up pretty good somewhere. Probably somewhere close. The leader opened his mouth to start explaining the situation to the three men. They were going to give up half their shit or they were going to die. Before he got to the good part, two of the biggest dogs he had ever seen jumped out. A thin woman came sliding down the steps after them, slipping and falling on her butt.

The two dogs flanked the man with the crossbow, barking menacingly. Most of the motorcycle gang got a better grip on their weapons, aiming their guns at the huge dogs in case they tried to come at them. The woman had an odd appearance. She was wearing a long dress and sandals for one thing. Not the most practical clothing to wear when you were running from the undead. She wasn't pretty in a conventional sense, but she had a unique look. Every inch of her exposed skin was covered in freckles, but instead of the copper hair that ought to go with such a complexion, she had long thick black hair that hung almost to her waist.

Daryl was hissing at Rowan to get her ass back in the RV. Of course she was refusing to listen, intent on making the dogs go back inside with her. She gotin front of her dogs, snapping her fingers in Tank's face. Now she was right in the line of fire, standing directly between their group and the bikers.

"NO BARK!," she hollered at Tank and Lily. Morgan and Marliyn were still inside the RV, and Rowan was thankful to whoever had grabbed them in time to keep them from getting out here. If they were out, she would have no hope of trying to control all four dogs at once.

"NO. BARK.," she repeated, pointing her finger at Tank's face. He stopped barking and started growling low in his throat instead. "NO!," Rowan told him. She pointed towards the RV. "Go lay down," she ordered. She used all the authority she could muster. Tank stared back at her and then sat down on his haunches. He went back to growling at the men on the bikes.

"Oh, you're such a naughty dog," Rowan informed the giant insolent beast. Her exasperated sigh brought on some laughter from the men behind her. One man towards the back of the group laughed harder than he meant to. His laughter turned into a coughing fit that he couldn't stop. Hard wet coughing that made Rowan's chest and throat burn in sympathy just to listen to it. The man set his gun across the handle bars of his bike and grabbed for his water. He tried taking a drink and just ended up choking on the water and coughing harder.

Daryl should have known what Rowan was about to do. He made a grab for her wrist but only got an empty handful of air. She was already crossing the distance between the two groups and heading for the coughing man with no reagard at all for her personal safety. Tank got up and followed after her, growling at the man as he weaved between their bikes.

The harder he coughed, the harder it felt like he was going to cough. The man was gasping for air, feeling like he might fall off his bike and faint. What he needed was a few more days in bed. But he had run out of points for food and medicine. It was go out and work today or starve. Suddenly he felt someone's hand come down between his shoulder blades, giving him a few hard firm whacks in time with his coughing fits. A giant glob of sickening green and yellow phlem flung our of his mouth, hitting the pavement with a wet smack. He sucked in air, almost feeling greedy for it. He lifted the water bottle to his lips again, but felt a gentle hand on his wrist.

"Sip it slowly." He turned to see the hippie woman that had been trying to control the dogs. She was unarmed and looking at him with a lot of caring and concern on her face. It had been a long time since anyone looked at him like they were concerned for his well being. Especially a complete stranger. He took her advice and forced himself to take small sips of the water, letting it cool his flaming throat.

"Take your jacket off," the woman instructed. He gave her a questioning look, causing some laughter from his companions. One suggested that perhaps she wanted to get his clothes off. The woman ignored them and laid her hand on the thick muscle of his arm. "I just want to listen to your lungs," she explained. Her touch was warm even through the fabric of his shirt and it made him feel oddly calm. Like everything was going to be alright. He nodded and eased his jacket down off one shoulder. As the woman moved into his personal space, the man saw her giant black dog was watching him closely. If he made any quick movements, he had no doubt that dog was going to bite him to keep him from hurting the woman.

Rowan eased in close to the man, her leg touching the hard metal of his bike. She steadied herself with one hand on his shoulder. Then she pressed her ear to his back. She could hear the wheezing from the swelling in his lungs. But more concerning was the shaky rattle that came with it. He had fluid in his lungs. Bronchitis if he was lucky and walking phenomena if he wasn't. Rowan pressed her wrist to his forehead. He wasn't hot, which meant he probably wasn't overly contagious. His aura was mostly grey but it still had a little color to it. Some of the brown that hung around the other men in his group, but mostly pale blue and green.

"Come on," Rowan told the man. She moved back to give him room to step off his bike, motioning for him to follow her. The man hesitated and then swung down from his bike to follow her.

"Hey Hey Hey," the leader of the small group said, finally speaking up. He directed his words towards Rowan, but he was speaking to his man as well. "What in the hell are you doing?"

The woman gave him an angry glance. Then to his surprise she charged towards him. Her skirt swished as she walked. When she got closer he noticed the crystal necklace that was hanging down between her breasts. She pointed at the man who had been coughing.

"Your friend is very sick," she said. The way she spoke to the man struck him as odd considering he had a gun in his hands and this skinny little girl didn't. She was not afraid of him, she was scolding him like he was a child. "He shouldn't even be out of bed," Rowan continued. She knew these were bad men, but they ought to at least be taking care of each other. This man was going to get so sick he might die if he didn't rest and let his body recover. "I am going to make him some medicine," Rowan announced.

With that she spun on her heels and stomped back over to the man she was intent on helping. Before he could think too much about whether or not he wanted to go with her, Rowan grasped him by the hand and started pulling him along behind her to the RV. Daryl watched her charge past him with a look of absolute horror on his face. Her father looked more amused with her behavior. Rowan was like her mother. She couldn't stand to see anyone sick or in pain. Even a dirty biker that wanted to steal their shit.

Now that Rowan was back inside the RV, Tank was willing to head back inside himself. He gave the leader of the bikers one more suspicios bark and then followed his mistress inside. Rowan shooed him out of her way and started issuing orders. Eric got out the electric tea kettle and turned it on. The biker man was seated at the table and Rowan took the blanket she had been sleeping under, wrapping it around his shoulders. Spencer got him a glass of water and some tylenol.

Rowan yanked out the large box of her mother's herbal medcine and carefully dug through it to find the items she wanted. The man just sat quietly and watched Rowan. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but if this strange woman wanted to help him he wasn't going to stop her. It looked like she was making him some medicinal tea.

Once she had the tea steeping, Rowan put more of the tea blend in a plastic baggie and handed it to the man. "Two cups a day, there should be enough in there to last you two weeks if you steep the same cup a few times before you throw it out," she told him. The man nodded and stuck the baggie into the inner pocket of his jacket. "The tea needs to steep for a least ten minutes," she added, glancing towards the tea she was wishing would hurry up and get ready. Then she remembered the other way mullein could be taken into the body.

"Spencer get your pipe out," she said. She was speaking to a tall man who was lingering near the front of the RV. Spencer fumbled through the glove box of the vehicle, producing a small glass pipe and a bag of weed. "Don't be givin' away all my pot," Spencer warned her. Rowan rolled her eyes at him and took a small pinch of marijuanna from the bag, stuffing it into the pipe. Then she took some dried yellow flowers from another bag and crumbled them up, stuffing them into the pipe on top of the pot.

Rowan handed the pipe to the man. A thin man with red hair stepped forward and pulled a lighter from his pocket, handing it to the sick man. He looked at the items in his hands suspicously. Not that he didn't like to get high, but smoking to get rid of a cough seemed counterproductive.

"What's the yellow shit?," he asked.

"Mullein," the woman told him, "same as whats in the tea I'm making you. The pot makes the smoke go down smoother." The man still didn't look convinced, so Rowan took the pipe back. She lit it and took a puff herself to show the man that it wouldn't hurt him, then she handed it back. The man nodded, watching the woman blow the smoke out from between her lips. He flicked the lighter, taking a long drag. The smoke made him cough, but after a few drags he could tell that his coughs were burning less and becoming more productive. The junk down in the bottom of his lungs was finally loosening up.

When he was done smoking, Rowan stuck a large mug of tea in front of him, watching the man to make sure he drank it all down. The man handed her the empty cup back and assesed how he was feeling. Maybe it was only because he was high, but he could swear he felt better. A lot better. His throat wasn't as dry and painful. He was still coughing, but his lungs had stopped burning. This woman wasn't some quack lunatic, she had actually helped him. He smiled at her and was rewarded when she smiled back at him. The man had been thinking that Rowan was rather odd looking, but he would be damned if she wasn't pretty when she smiled. One of her eye teeth stuck out a little, giving her a quirkly look.

"Thanks," the man told her. He really meant it. Rowan smiled again and nodded towards the door.

"I think you better go back to your friends now," she told him. "Thank me by drinking that tea and resting until you feel better."

The man nodded. He reluctantly pulled the blanket from around his shoulders and handed it back to her, wishing that he knew her name. Against his better judgement the man reached out and gave the woman's giant black dog a pat on the head. The dog grumbled a low growl of protest but allowed the brief contact. Giving the woman one more nod of thanks, the man put his hand on the door latch to pull it open. As he lowered his foot to the first step, the entire RV shook with a thunderous explosion that sent him tripping down the steps and falling on his elbows on the pavement. He scrambled to his feet to see what remained of his group lying in smoldering pieces in the street.

** If you can't tell from this chapter I am going to start working some of the show events back into this story. It will obviously be an AU since Morgan is already dead, Deanna and Reg are still alive and leading the town, Michonne and Rick already have a baby together, and some of the wolves are part of the Alexandria group. I might work in some stuff from the comics if I end up getting ahead of the show, but they will be mixed in with my own imagination so I don't think it will get to the point of spoiling anything for anyone. Big thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. **