The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 42

Ron forced himself to walk slowly. Slow and casual like he didn't have anywhere to go. He knew he didn't really need to take that precaution. No one ever in town paid attention to anything he was doing. He wasn't important. He was a nobody. Not like his father. People in town respected his father. Until Carl's father and the rest of those assholes showed up. Now Ron's father was dead. Some people even said he had been murdered. Ron was not "Pete's son" anymore. Now he was no one. Still he moved slowly just to be safe. Even unimportant people ran from danger. If he was running people would look to see what he was running from. They might want to know what he was doing and where he was running to. It was better to walk.

Ron knelt down and pretended to tie his shoe. He glanced up and down the street, making sure no one was watching him. The street was empty aside from one older woman that was in her front yard pruning a tomato bush. Ron waited until the old woman's back was turned. Then he stood up and quickly headed down the narrow path that snaked between Carl's house and the house next to it.

The space between the two houses used to be just grass. Now garden boxes lined the sides of the houses, leaving only a stone path wide enough for one person to pass through. On his left, the boxes were full of catnip and wheat grass. The idea to put the pet friendly plants all in one spot had been his mother's. One of the only good ideas the woman ever had. It kept the cats from digging around and ruining the other gardens. Of course his mom had not been given any credit. Everyone acted like planting the catnip was Rowan's idea. Just because she had helped his mom build the garden beds. Enid had helped too since most of the cats were unofficially hers. But no one seemed to remember her contribution either. Enid was like him. Invisible.

As he neared the rear of the houses, Ron spotted a large orange tabby cat lounging in the soft dirt between two plants. It was curled up in a patch of sunlight, warming its fur in the afternoon light. The cat seemed to feel his silent presence. It slowly blinked its sleepy eyes open to check for danger. Seeing only a young man standing over it and not one of the dead, the cat yawned and returned to its nap. It's tail stretched out from its body, the white ringed tip lazily swinging back and forth. Even the cat seemed to know that Ron was not important enough to warrant its full attention. Ron gritted his teeth. Then he lifted his foot and stomped down hard on the cat's tail. Got your attention now don't I? The cat howled and jumped in the air. Its fur stood on end. Ron laughed at the animal as it took off like a rocket towards the gardens behind Carl's house.

Ron took a moment to recheck his surroundings. The cat had made a loud noise and he wanted to make sure it hadn't drawn any unwanted attention. He waited a few moments. No one appeared in the street and when he peeked out into the backyards from between the houses he was pleased to see that area was also empty. He didn't need to pause and listen on the back porch. The young man had been watching Carl's house all day so he knew that he would find the residence unoccupied. Rick had left in the big RV with a large group of other morons. Carl and Enid had left on the horses. He didn't know where they had gone. No one bothered to tell him anything. Michonne had taken the little kids and her dog towards the back of town about 20 minutes ago. She had a packed bag over her shoulder so Ron was sure the woman wouldn't be back anytime soon. That left the house completely empty.

The door opened immediately when Ron twisted the knob and pushed. Just like he knew it would. These morons never lock their doors. The doors to Carl's house were almost never locked except at night and even then they often forgot to lock the backdoor. Ron knew because he had snuck inside the home many times before. He liked to look at Enid while she slept. Michonne's big dog never barked to alert the household of his intrusion. Ron had been feeding the dog table scraps since it was a puppy. He had originally planned to eventually poison the dog since it was Carl's. But when the dog refused to mind the other young man and chose to follow Michonne around Ron decided he liked the dog.

Ron stopped in front of the refrigerator and swung the door open. He pulled out a large glass pitcher full of cucumber water. After taking a few swigs, Ron cleared his throat and spit a large wad of phlegm into the water. He placed the pitcher back where he found it. As Ron headed out of the kitchen he smiled to himself. She's kissing me now even if she doesn't know it. His next stop was the room that Carl and Enid shared. Ron didn't have to search to find what he was looking for. He had been inside the room many times before. Carl's dresser was on the wall near the window. The other boy kept his spare gun in the top drawer. The initials CG were burned into the grip and when Ron checked he was pleased to see the gun was already loaded. Ron tucked the weapon into the back of his pants under his shirt.

He had what he had come for. Ron knew he should leave. Getting Carl's gun was only the first part of his plan. He had other things to do and a limited amount of time to get them done. But as he was leaving the room the young man spotted a pile of Enid's clothes. Her denim shorts were crumpled up on the floor with a pair of her underwear still tangled up inside them. Her bra was hanging from the knob of a small bedside table.

Enid's bra was pale blue. Her underwear were white with a pattern of small blue flowers on them. Ron reached down and grabbed Enid's used panties, untangling them from her shorts. A tiny piece of elastic was hanging from the waistband where the material was starting to wear out. Ron rubbed it between his fingers. He tried to imagine what the young woman might look like wearing the underwear he was holding. Instead the image of Enid sprawled out naked on the staircase filled his mind. Her naked breasts out for him to see. Her legs spread wide. Carl had been with her but when Ron imagined the scene he was the one with his head between her thighs. Soon Enid would see Carl for the asshole he really was. Ron would make sure of it.

After Ron used Enid's panties to wipe himself off, he tossed them back onto the floor and zipped up his pants. He had already wasted too much time. If he wanted to finish what he started he couldn't allow himself to keep getting distracted. His next stop was Rowan's house.

Like the first home Ron had trespassed in, Rowan's house was also empty and unlocked. As he had never been inside this home before, it took Ron longer to find what he had come searching for. He checked in the obvious places first. In a dish by the front door. The top drawer in the kitchen. Hanging on a hook by the door in the kitchen. Ron checked all these places and came up empty handed. Just when he was considering giving up and forming a new plan, Ron found what he had come for. The keys to Daryl's motorcycle were dangling from the ignition of the bike. Ron rolled his eyes and grabbed the keys, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. The next part was tricky. He needed to open the garage. This would be harder to do without being seen. Hard but not impossible.

TWD

"Mom!," Ron hollered. He was standing in the doorway of the medical center. His mother was doing a shift there. Being married to a doctor for 16 years had given her enough second hand medical knowledge that she could be of help there. The woman's blonde head popped up from the book she was reading.

"You're supposed to be watching your brother," his mother informed him. Ron gritted his teeth, irritated that she was talking to him like a child. She hadn't even bothered to ask why he was there before chastising him. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Now was not the time to get into an argument with his mother.

"That's why I'm here," Ron shot back, trying unsuccessfully to keep the disgust and anger completely out of his voice. "Sam's sick. He's laying on the couch and he won't wake up." Ron knew his brother wasn't going to wake up for a while. He had made sure of it. Ron had mixed a stolen double dose of benadryl in some milk and given it to the younger boy with his lunch. Not only did he do it because he needed a reason to get his mother to leave the medical center, he also didn't want his younger brother interfering with his plans. Sam had caught him sneaking around a few times before and it had been hard to convince the boy not to tell their mother.

"What?," Jessie barked out. She stood up so fast that she almost knocked her chair over backwards. Her paperback book fell to the floor with a soft thud. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know Mom," Ron answered, "that's why I came and got you."

It was clear to Ron that his mother's first instinct was to leave the medical center and go to her younger son immediately. After the loss of their father, she had become intensely overprotective of both boys. Ron was old enough that he was able to slip from her tight reins once in a while. But the woman usually kept Sam with her at all times. Like he was still a baby instead of a boy that would be heading for middle school soon in the world before the dead. Jessie had been torn between bringing Sam to the medical center with her and leaving him home with Ron. There were strangers in the medical center, which she felt made it unsafe. But keeping him with her always felt like the best option. If she could see him then she knew he wasn't getting hurt. After some subtle encouragement from Ron, she had eventually decided to leave Sam home with strict instructions for Ron to watch him and not let him leave the house for ANY reason.

Jessie paused. She was desperate to go check on her younger son. But she was also not supposed to leave the medical center. The two people sitting in the next room seemed harmless enough, but they were still strangers. She knew Rick believed they came from a larger group and might be dangerous. Deanna didn't agree, but she hadn't even interviewed them yet. Jessie had been told they were to be watched at all times.

Ron could sense his mother's hesitation. He needed her to leave now or all his carefully made plans would be ruined. There was one thing he knew would alarm her more than anything else.

"He felt kind of hot," Ron added, "I think he might have a fever."

Having one of her children being bitten by the dead was Jessie's worst fear. The thought of it kept her up at night and when she did sleep she had nightmares. Fever was the first sign of infection. Jessie took one more glance towards the strangers in the next room.

"Stay here and keep watch," she commanded. Ron nodded his agreement, trying not to smile as his mother rushed from the building without another word. She didn't even close the door behind her.

Ron took a deep breath. Convincing his mother with a lie had been simple. He didn't know if the strangers in the other room would be so easily fooled. Ron walked towards the infirmary door that his mother had left swinging open. He glanced up and down the street. The only person he saw was his mother, quickly on her way back to their house. Ron shut the door and turned to look at the two strangers sitting inside.

The man was muscular but thin. In fact both looked like they hadn't had steady meals in a while. This didn't mean anything. Not too many strangers had come in off the road recently. But when they did they were always skinny.

The man had long blonde hair that was pulled back from his face and secured in a low ponytail at the back of his neck. Ron didn't spend much time judging the attractiveness of other men but this one wasn't what he believed anyone would consider good looking. The man had a large nose that resembled a bird beak. The scraggly blonde facial hair he hadn't bothered to shave off yet detracted further from his appearance. Ron wondered how the man was connected to the woman he had come in off the road with. Because unlike the man, she was attractive. Very attractive. She had delicate features and large brown eyes. Ron didn't think she was as pretty as Enid, but she was close. The top few buttons of her tank top were missing, exposing the top half of her breasts.

Ron tried to get a feel for what kind of people the strangers were. The woman was sitting quietly in a chair, reading through an old magazine. The man stood next to one of the windows, leaning against the wall as he observed what he could from his limited vantage point. Ron slipped his hand behind his back. He ran his fingers across Carl's gun, the feel of the hard metal giving him a renewed burst of courage. He wished the scraggly haired man wasn't there. Ron would take out the gun and point it at the woman sitting near the bed. Maybe then he would make her unbutton her shirt the rest of the way and show him her tits. But the man was there. And skinny as he was, he still didn't look like someone that Ron had any interest in fighting.

Ron cleared his throat as he approached the couple. The woman looked up from her book, staring at him. The man paid him no attention. Just like everyone else in town. Even this stranger seemed to know he wasn't important.

"There isn't much time," Ron told them, directing his words to the woman since she was the only one of the two making eye contact with him. If his first few words hadn't already caught the man's attention, what he said next certainly did.

"They are going to kill you."

Ron waited for a response from either the man or the woman but both just continued to stare at him.

"Didn't you hear me?," he asked. "I said they are going to kill you." The woman ran her fingers through her hair and looked at her companion to see what his response was.

"What kind of shit are you talking kid?," the man asked. He seemed to be slightly concerned, but not as worried as Ron thought a man who was about to be possibly murdered should be. Also he had called Ron a kid. Ron was sick of being called a kid. He was sick of being treated like a kid.

"Look asshole," Ron hissed. The man took a few steps away from the wall, placing himself between Ron and his female companion. "Look," Ron restarted. He decided he shouldn't cuss at the guy he was pretending to help. "They had a meeting at my house last night," Ron explained. He hadn't thought his lie all the way through and was regretting that now as he stumbled over his words. "I uh… I listened from the stairs. They said they can't trust you and later today they are going to kill you."

"Why would anyone here want to kill us?," the woman asked. She leaned around the man to look at Ron. Her eyebrows knitted together in a scowl. "We haven't done anything wrong." She grabbed for the man's hand, pulling him backwards towards her. "That Deanna woman said she was just going to interview us and then we could stay," she said to the man, her statement coming out sounding more like a question. The fear and uncertainty in her voice was obvious.

"It's not Deanna," Ron argued, "It's that Rick guy. He's a major asshole. He said you were spies from another group or something. He's coming here tonight to kill you."

Dwight narrowed his eyes. He had met so many new people and his sister in law had been dying a horrible death at the time. He tried to remember who Rick was. No one stood out in his mind except Deanna and the infirmary staff.

"You sure about what you are saying kid?," Dwight asked. He had already been thinking about leaving. Going back. The only reason they had left was because of Sherry's sister. He hadn't wanted to leave but the woman had been ready to leave on her own if he didn't.

"I'm sure," Ron answered. He reached behind his back and pulled out the gun. The man stepped back, scared Ron was going to shoot him. Ron had to fight back a smile. He's paying attention to what I'm saying now. Ron turned the gun around and held it out grip first towards the man. The man visibly relaxed. He didn't hesitate to reach out and take the gun, tucking it into the back of his own pants. Next Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to Daryl's motorcycle.