Chemtrails Over The County Line

by thesentimentalist

While the Greene farm offered the group shelter, refuge, and a sense of community, choosing survival was a decision each person had to make daily. But is just surviving enough? Daryl Dixon had thought so until he met Charlie, also a survivor of abuse. She makes him question everything he has learned about the world, but more importantly, about himself. Daryl & O/C

2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Look at the Bright Side

Look at the Bright Side

I met Lori's husband, Rick Grimes, and their unconscious son, Carl and witnessed their heart wrenching reunion just moments after the other. I didn't have to examine Carl to know that Willa and Hershel's diagnosis was spot on, but I did so to ease Lori's mind. She heard the word 'surgeon' and had a false sense of security from it, like most people I've met.

"We need the equipment," Hershel was telling Lori and Rick as I walked out of the bedroom we were using a patient room for Carl.

I nodded in agreement. "It's his best shot." If he had one at all. I'd seen my fair share of gun wounds and his was severe, especially having to wait so long to be correctly treated. I made sure not to promise his survival, just guarantee we would do all that we could. And to do just that, we needed more supplies and equipment.

"Ottis was telling us that the high school would have what you need, from FEMA setting up there," Lori said.

"I'll go," a man, who was standing in the corner of the room, volunteered. His eyes were wild, like he was geeked out on something, but his speech and movements seemed normal. It was obvious he was a police officer, I could tell by the way he carried himself; maybe that was why my instincts were telling me to be weary of him.

"Shane…" Lori said, her voice low. "Thank you."

He pushed himself off the wall and clapped his hands together. It was like watching a high school football player getting pumped up for a game.

"Just draw me a map and make me a list."

"Won't need any of that," I said. "I'll go."

Willa's eyes widened and she shook her head, walking in long strides across the room to get to me. "Charlotte," she hissed as she grabbed my arm.

"This isn't your responsibility."

"I know," I said. "But he won't know what any of the stuff we need looks like," I said as I nodded towards Shane. "I'm fast. I can get in and out no problem."

"It's been overrun," Ottis said, his voice dripping with concern.

I looked at him and smiled gently. "Don't you remember my cross country time? I won't be there long enough for there to be a problem."

"There's no way for you to know that," Hershel said.

"We need you here," Lori said with a trembling voice. "We need you for Carl."

"I haven't done anything. This has been all Hershel and Willa. They're more than capable, hell, they have more experience than I."

"I'll go with you two," Ottis volunteered. "For extra muscle."

"Ottis," Patricia snapped.

I averted my eyes from the couple to give them privacy while avoiding Willa's scorn and Hershel's disapproving gaze, which left Shane. "The school is about five miles away," I told him.

"Alright, let's get to it, then."

Addy rushed to my side and wrapped her arms around me, begging me to be careful. She knew that asking me to stay wouldn't work, just as when she asked if we could help the other members of Lori's group. I knelt down beside her and put my hands on her shoulders. "Your mom and Uncle Hershel are taking care of Carl, but someone needs to make sure Mr. Rick gets enough water and something to eat. He's given a lot of blood. He needs you to look over him." I knew giving her a task was the best route; she and I were a lot alike that way. If we had something to focus on that we could control, even moderately, our minds wouldn't work into overdrive on what we couldn't control at all.

She wiped away her tears and looked at Rick. With a determined straight mouthed expression, she nodded at me. "I can do that."

My heart could have exploded from pride in that moment. "I know you can." I wrapped her in my arms once more before telling her that I loved her.

Willa was waiting for me when Shane, Ottis, and I walked out the front door. She handed me the pistol I had used on the road. "I know you aren't comfortable with it," she said. "But, you use this gun if it comes down to it, you hear me?"

"Yes, mom," I grinned, trying to make the mode lighter.

"Damn it, Charlie. You and your damned god complex are going to be the end of me."

I took the gun, checked the safety, and slipped it into the back of my jeans. "I'll be safe."

"We're going to talk about this when you get back." She could look ferocious when she wanted to, and in that moment, I was a little bit scared of her, but only a little. I knew a pack of chocolate covered raisins would haver her singing a different tune.

I could tell she wasn't going to drop this anytime, soon, so I made the first move to leave. I squeezed her shoulder and started walking down the steps. "You sure aren't making coming back appealing."

"Charlotte Rose Greene!" She yelled after me with her hands on her hips.

"Sorry mom, I'll be back before curfew!" I smiled as I jogged to the truck where Ottis was in the driver's seat and Shane waiting next to the passenger door.

"Charlie!" Willa yelled as I was about to crawl into the truck. "I love you." I could hear the desperation in her voice and for a second, I thought about not going, letting the knowledge Ottis gained in his three months long volunteer EMT career be sufficient enough to gather everything we needed. The thought of leaving Willa and Addy behind nearly killed me right then and there, but I made a promise to Lori and to Rick to do everything that I could. Willa didn't know what she was talking about- this wasn't a god complex, this was just me being thorough.

"Love you, too." I gave her and Addy, who had come out to join Willa, another glance before scooting in next to Ottis.

"I'll get you back safe and sound," he promised.

I put my hand on his shoulder as he cranked the truck. "I know."

"So what's the plan?" Shane asked as we neared the high school. The first few minutes of the drive were silent, aside from the Johnny Cash album Ottis was playing. Patricia thought Johnny Cash to be too crude, so Ottis could only listen to it when she wasn't around. I smiled at the thought of something so simple staying the same with how everything else seemed to be in a constant state of change.

"I'll go in first, you two cover me," I said. "I helped set up a FEMA shelter at a high school in Miami. They tend to keep food and supplies fairly consistent throughout each shelter. The medical supplies that we need should be in a classroom close to the gym, where not many people had access to, just the workers."

"What if they aren't there?" Shane asked.

"Then I'll signal for you guys to come in and help me look."

"No way you're going in alone," Ottis argued.

"He's right," Shane said. "There will be too many walkers."

Ottis came to a stop, only a block from the school. "This should be close enough."

Shane nodded. "We'll go by foot the rest of the way. Keep your eyes peeled and track the number of geeks we come across." Shane jumped out of the truck, clearly his adrenaline was already coursing through his veins; that, or was just incredibly high strung. I bet his doctor hated how high his blood pressure was.

"He sure is bossy," I complained to Ottis as I followed him out of the truck.

Ottis grinned, but remained quiet.

I took the lead, Shane following too close behind me, and Ottis bringing in the rear. Every time I looked back, I saw Ottis checking behind every car, street light, garbage can just to make sure we were safe.

Once the school was in view, the three of us ducked and moved behind cars, quietly avoiding any of the dead as we made it to the front door. I swallowed hard when I saw the amount of walkers that littered the hallway leading to the gym. They hadn't spotted us yet, but I knew it was only time.

Shane inched closer to the walkers, taking out the ones he could without much noise by using a knife. I followed suit and took out a dozen with my bow until the arrows ran out. Ottis stayed at the door, making sure we weren't going to get attacked from behind. As I collected the arrows that I could in silence, Shane took out the remainder few. We had cleared the first hallway in under five minutes, and moved quickly.

There were several classrooms all within the same distance to the gym, so each of us picked a door and cleared the rooms. It was hard to believe that just two or three months ago, these rooms would have been filled with students, now the hallways were littered with their dead bodies. I had to force myself not to think about the logistics to keep myself from becoming distracted.

As I was walking out of the classroom empty handed, Shane came to the doorway of the room he was in and gestured for me to join him. I let out a huge sigh of relief when I saw the supplies we needed, collecting dust. Shane had already set up the duffel bags and waited for me to gather what we needed as he and Ottis kept watch in the hallway. It was nothing short of a miracle that there was everything we needed right in front of me. I even found a mobile ultrasound that would come in handy for the remainder of Willa's pregnancy. This was a win, a big one at that.

I stepped out into the hallway to find Ottis shaking his head. The main entrance had started gathering walkers a few moments after we had arrived. Shane pointed his head in the opposite way, and this time I let him lead. Ottis took one duffle bag from me as I threw the second one over my shoulder.

"We're going to have to run," I said.

Shane looked back at me and Ottis before agreeing. We picked up speed and entered the gymnasium that was right around the corner. The bleachers had yet to be occupied by the dead so Ottis and I followed Shane to the top to get a better look at the area as we attempted to come up with an escape route. It didn't take long for the walkers to start coming in, having no doubtably smelt us.

"I have an idea," I said as I peered through the small, rectangular windows above the bleachers. There were hardly any walkers below, and even though it was a twenty foot drop, I was confident in Ottis' ability to ease me down with the rope I had seen him pack. I could easily take the duffle bags with me, run the one black back to the truck, create a distraction (I'd come up with it on the fly) for the undead to follow, and come back to get Ottis and Shane.

"Sounds too dangerous," Ottis finally said after the three of us took out a handful of walkers.

"It's our best option."

Shane started to unroll the rope out of Ottis' bag as he spoke. "You won't just leave us?"

"No," Ottis and I both answered in an unison.

Shane looked at both of us and nodded. "Alright, doc, let's get you down there."

As I tied the rope around my waist, I tried not to think about Willa. She would be having a shit fit if she knew what I was about to do. I looked at Ottis, noticing how big my eyes must have been. "Don't tell Willa about this."

He nodded in agreement.

I handed Ottis the duffle bag I was carrying as Shane covered us, taking out the walkers that posed a threat. I let out a deep breath and stepped into Ottis' hands. He lifted me up easily, and as I cracked open the window, I turned to look at the walkers who were trying to push through the locked door on the opposite side of the gym. "Maybe I should stay and help."

Shane pushed me up further. "No, you get out of here. If we aren't outside by the time you come back, you go. You get that stuff back and you save Carl." He looked so determined, so serious that it almost made me reconsider my first impression of him.

I nodded. "Be careful," I said to Ottis as I squeezed his hands in mine.

"You too."

Shane and I exchanged nods and I let out a deep breath.

I looked at Ottis one last time before I crawled out of the window, legs first. As I shimmied my body out of the small window, I felt my jeans tear, scuffing my knee caps against the brick. Once I was all the way out, I felt the rope tighten. Ottis passed one duffle bag to me and then the second. With both bags strung over my back, I wouldn't be able to get to my bow very easily, but there wasn't another option. I looked down, only seeing three walkers, who were gathering around, chomping at my feet that dangled a good ten or so feet above them at this point. I pulled my knife from its case as Ottis started lowering me down. Once I was within reach, I stabbed the first undead as I used both feet to kick the second and third away to avoid being bit. The second one landed on his back, while the third moved quickly towards me. I was able to put the knife through her eye socket easily and land on my feet before taking out the third walker. I untied the rope and pulled on it, letting Ottis and Shane know I had made it safely.

With both bags securely on my back, I hunched forward in an attempt to make myself small. I knew it was barely doing any good; my bleeding knees might as well have been a ringing dinner bell. I heard more gun shots from above, and I suddenly doubted my decision to run. The idea of leaving Ottis and Shane, even to get the truck, didn't sit right with me. With nothing left to do than to follow through with the plan, I dashed out of the small gated area, finding a way out through a tear in the fence.

I realized where I was instantly, and wasted no more time running to the truck. I was thankful it was only two blocks away being the duffle bags were heavy, weighing me down and thus making me move slower. I hadn't needed to even reach for my bow by the time I got back to the truck. I tossed the bags into the seat and climbed in, my mind going a hundred miles an hour as I cranked the vehicle. Keeping the lights and stereo off, I crept up to the side of the school slowly. This was going to be my distraction, because without anything short of a hand grenade, this was my only option. Suddenly, I felt like I was going to puke as I cranked the stereo up as loud as it would go.

Go away from my window

Leave at your own chosen speed

I'm not the one you want, babe

Walkers started to gather closer to the outskirts of the school as I yelled, to get their attention even more. Banging my palm on the top of the trunk, I yelled louder. My screams and the sound of music seemed to do the trick.

I'm not the one you need

You say you're lookin' for someone

Who's never weak but always strong

To protect you and defend you

With more and more walkers coming towards me, I took my foot off the brake and let the truck coast about five miles an hour. It took them longer to catch up than I had originally thought, so I rolled up the window and came to almost a complete stop.

Whether you are right or wrong

Someone to open each and every door

But it ain't me babe

No, no, no, it ain't me babe

It ain't me you're lookin' for, babe

With the undead's hands grabbing at the truck and mouths trying to pierce the windows, I hit the gas slightly, easing up about five feet in the road. I waited for them to catch up and did the same thing. Now, I needed to get the walkers away and stay away long enough for me to get back to the school. As soon as the walkers got close, I sped up slightly. I repeated this process for almost fifteen minutes, getting a little over a mile away from the school.

Go lightly from the ledge, babe

Go lightly on the ground

I'm not the one you want, babe

I'll only let you down

Go lightly from the ledge, babe

Go lightly on the ground

I'm not the one you want, babe

I'll only let you down

To ensure the walkers wouldn't follow me back, I took a roll of paper towels from under the driver's side seat and tore pieces off before rubbing the paper towels along my skinned knees, soaking up the blood. I rolled the passenger's side window down slightly to toss the crumbled pieces of blood out of the window. The smell sent a frenzy through the walkers as they dove for each piece I tossed out. I turned the stereo off and peeled out of the area once nearly all the undead had flocked to the blood stained paper towels. I used the side road to get back to the school, hoping to avoid any more walkers. I pulled up to the part of the school where Shane, Ottis, and I had entered from the side building. I kept the truck running as I opened the driver's door and got out. I didn't see them or hear them, but the walkers were nearly gone, only a few stragglers.

Then I saw Shane, running full speed towards me from around the corner. I squinted my eyes, and realized an entire horde was on his heels. "Get in!" He yelled at me.

"Ottis?" I shouted, my heart sinking to my chest when I didn't see the larger man behind Shane. "Where's Ottis?"

Shane didn't reply but waved at me frantically. "Get in!" He yelled again.

"Not without Ottis!"

Shane was now only a few feet away. "He didn't make it."

My breath left my chest as I stumbled backwards. I shook my head, not believing Shane. I could barely process what I was told, when I felt a set of hands on my shoulders. I turned quickly, seeing that it was a walker chomping in my direction. I fumbled for my knife, but managed to kill her for the second time in her life before stumbling towards the truck. I made it to the driver's seat and closed the door as Shane hopped in the passenger's side.

"Go!" He told me.

My eyes narrowed at him, but I obliged. I bit my inner cheek of my mouth and held back tears as I stepped out the gas. "What… what happened?"

"We were surrounded. He covered me, but… there were too many."

I snapped my head towards him. "Why would he cover you?"

Shane shrugged. "Maybe he didn't think he could out run them?"

"Are you… sure? He's gone?"

Shane nodded. "I'm sure."

There was something off about Shane had said, about the fact he had Ottis' gun. If Ottis was covering him, why would Shane have his gun?

I couldn't bring myself to talk to him the remainder of the drive back to the farm. My hands trembled, my gut turned, I realized I didn't have the luxury of mourning. I couldn't change the outcome of Ottis' death, but I could possibly save another life. There was a little boy just a few miles down the road that I could keep alive. One of the hardest things I had learned working as a surgeon during my short career wasn't learning the techniques to perform a successful transplant and it wasn't having to develop the endurance to stand on my feet while I had my hand in someone's chest for sixteen hours straight. It was learning how to separate one patient's outcome from the next. I may haven't been able to do all I could for patient A, but patient B still deserved to have me at my best.

When Shane and I pulled up to the driveway, Hershel, Patricia, Lori, Rick, Maggie, and Willa were all waiting for us.

Willa sprang to her feet and rushed to me, nearly knocking me over as she wrapped her arms around me. "You were gone for so long. I was worried."

I looked at her, my eyes still slightly puffy, but I wasn't able to speak.

She looked behind me, only seeing Shane as he carried both bags to Hershel. "Ottis?" Her voice was low and had turned raspy.

I shook my head, biting my bottom lip and fighting back tears.

"Ottis?" Patricia yelled as she ran towards his truck.

Willa intercepted the grieving woman and pulled her into her chest. "I'm so sorry, Patricia."

Willa's embrace didn't keep Patricia from falling to her knees. She grabbed at my feet, demanding to know what happened. I couldn't get into it; I couldn't let myself think about how horrifying his death must have been. I couldn't even utter an apology as I brushed past them.

"Tell me how he is," I said to Hershel as I pulled a small tube of hand sanitizer out of my pocket. As Hershel filled me in, I applied the sanitizer to my hands and together, we walked inside. I felt Maggie's eyes follow me before she rushed to join Patricia and Willa. I pushed the guilt from my mind and nodded to Hershel and he explained in detail the digression Carl had experienced while we were gone.

"Willa, I need your hands," I called from the doorway before following Hershel back to the bedroom. The moment I walked into the room, I had to catch my breath as I observed how pale and… so far gone Carl looked. The shards had done a number on him, his internal bleeding to an extreme. I put surgical gloves on my hands and helped Hershel set up the medical supplies and machinery that we had brought back.

Willa entered the room, avoiding making direct eye contact with me as she followed Hershel's lead. I pretended not to notice, blaming it on my head already being in the game.

"Should we pray?" Hershel asked as the three of us stood over Carl's vulnerable body.

I looked at Hershel, having to shake my head. "That's not part of my routine."

As I was the leading surgeon, he nodded and remained silent as I cut into Carl's abdomen. My shaking heads turned incredibly steady as I cut

through his flesh and my breathing was now steady. I had seen this procedure done three dozen times and performed it at least a dozen times with an attending next to me, critiquing and offering advice when needed.

My hands took over, my muscle memory leading me through Carl's abdominal cavity as I removed the shards and repaired the damage that was done along the way. It was a lengthier process than needed to be, that I'm sure, but I had to get this right. I had to keep this boy alive so that Ottis' life had meaning.

"I can stitch him up," Hershel offered the moment I stepped back. His eyes were proud, despite refusing the prayer. He saw me as a legitimate doctor, and I knew he would never be more proud of me than he was in that moment.

I nodded, giving him a grateful look.

"Excellent job, doctor," Willa said as she kept her eyes on Carl.

I removed the gloves and tossed them in the trash. I couldn't bring myself to thank her as I walked out of the room. I looked to my left to see Patricia crying, both Beth and Maggie comforting her. I stepped to say something, but Maggie shook her head at me. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach, but I understood why Maggie thought it was best that I didn't speak to Patricia just yet. Letting out a deep breath, I stepped outside where I was surrounded by Lori, Rick, and a handful of other people, some I recognized from earlier in the woods and some I didn't.

"How is he?" Lori demanded the moment my feet stepped off the steps.

I smiled slightly, letting her know that her child was alright. "He did exceptionally well, Lori. Carl should make a full recovery." Good news is best kept short and sweet. That's all that she and Rick needed to know in that moment. We could talk about recovery time and physical therapy tomorrow. Tonight, that could focus only on the positive outcome.

She wrapped her arms around me, tears spilling from her face to my right shoulder. "Oh god, thank you. Thank you," she cried.

I felt another set of arms around me, from Rick this time. "Thank you."

I pulled back and watched as the couple hugged and cried in each other's arms.

"When can we see him?"

"Hershel is stitching him up, Willa will come get you. No more than ten or so minutes, though." I could tell they wanted to talk, but I didn't have it in me. This was the time where a nurse would take the family back to see their loved one, but I never joined them. It was generally easier not to.

The screen door slammed and when I turned, I saw it was Patricia. I could see that her eyes were red and puffy from crying as her body was still shaking. I moved towards her and called her name. In her grief, her idea of a proper greeting was slapping me across the face.

I stood motionless, letting the impact of her action run through my body. Her slap wasn't physically painful, and it barely made me turn my head to the side, but the action coming from her sent chills down my body. I put my left palm against the left side of my face, still feeling the heat of her hand on my skin.

"I know you were raised by a monster for four years of your life," she spat. She actually had no idea, but that was neither here nor there. My actions had nothing to do with "the monster" and everything to do with my ability to do my job. But she was grieving and she needed to lash out. I understood this better than most. "But," she continued, "you were cold. This is not the time to be less than human. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, ignoring all the stares from the people I had met and some that I hadn't.

She turned to walk inside, but stopped. With her head over her shoulder, she said, "Ottis would be proud of you. He was always your biggest fan."

I wiped the snot that had started coming from my nose, ignoring the few tears that had already fallen down my cheeks. I cringed as the screen door slammed again when Patricia had returned inside the house.

Avoiding the gazes of everyone, I turned my face away from the house as I made a Beeline to be anywhere but here. As I walked past Shane, my right shoulder collided into him.

"Hey," he said, making me stop.

I stopped momentarily to look at him. I raised my eyebrows and titled my head to the side slightly.

"You got a minute to look at my ankle?"

I held back a scoff and ignored the question. I needed to put some distance between the house and myself.

"Hey!" Shane called out again.

This time I kept walking, but yelled over my shoulder, "your ankle is fine."

I walked not even half a mile before bringing myself to stop. As I leaned against a tree, I finally let myself breath. I could hear Ottis' words, promising me that he'd make sure I got back safely. Here I was, but he was nowhere to be found. Hell, he was probably one of them now, walking amongst them as the undead. I put my hands on my knees and I bent over, bile clawing to get out of my throat. As I slammed my eyes closed, I let out a deep sob that lingered in my chest. I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't cry with Patricia and I couldn't celebrate with Lori and Rick. I had already put myself in the same enigma that I had created for myself years ago. With walls not just surrounding me, but barricading others out, I sought peace in solitude.

"Your need to be left alone will get you killed," Willa had told me before this had happened. She had reiterated it since coming to the farm. I hadn't ever seen it as a need, but rather as a preference. Some people prefer Coke over Pepsi, same as preferring to be alone over in someone's company.

The sound of leaves rustling pulled me out of my thoughts and I unsheathed my knife, already on full alert. I was too caught up to have noticed which direction it came from. As if answering my silent question, a set of hands grabbed onto my shoulders. I turned quickly, raising the knife up and before I could strike, my attacker's hands traveled from my shoulders to my wrist as I stumbled backwards into the tree. With my hands over my head and bound by one of my attacker's massive hands, I pulled my knee up with as much force as I could muster, aiming for his family jewels. He used his free hand to grab my leg and pushed it against the tree trunk.

"Cherry," he said urgently.

The entire "attack" had happened so quickly, all under ten seconds, this was the first time he had spoken. I let my eyes focus on his face, before looking for ways to physically him. "Da… Daryl?"

He let go on my wrists and I immediately brought them into my chest. "Ya a'right?"

"Fine," I said. "I could have hurt you."

He shot me a smug smile, but didn't say anything. True, has the upper hand, but I would have gotten that second knee to the groin easily enough.

"Why are you out here?" I asked, but didn't give him time to answer. "Are you here to ask me to check on your friend's ankle? He's fine. It's fine." I paused for a second. "Or do you have something to add to Patricia's speech?"

He looked generally confused. "Who's ankle? And who's Patricia?"

I gestured back towards the farm. "From earlier?"

He shook his head. "Ain't be there. Been lookin' for Sophia."

Oh. Well this was only slightly embarrassing. I cleared my throat and pushed myself off the tree. "Oh." I put my knife back up, hoping he wouldn't ask me to elaborate, which he didn't. We stood in silence for a few minutes before I couldn't keep myself from asking about the girl. "Where have you looked for Sophia?"

Daryl dropped his crossbow and propped one leg against a tree as he lit a cigarette. He offered it to me, to which I declined by putting up my hand. "Hard to tell at night."

"Then why look now?"

"'Cause she's still out there."

I nodded, not being able to disagree. Sophia, if she was still alive, had a solid support system waiting for her.

"How's the kid?"

"Carl? He should make a full recovery."

Daryl nodded as he exhaled cigarette smoke. What about giving oneself cancer made oneself so attractive? Normally, smoking wasn't on my list of turn ons, but watching Daryl do it so effortlessly was pretty hot. Maybe it was just him, and his biceps. He did have really good arms. I almost laughed out loud as my mind rattled through these observations when I was reminded where we were and the state in which we were all living. Ottis was dead, a little girl was missing, and my sister and aunt-type figure were both royally pissed at me. But the silver lining of the day? It looked like Carl was going to be okay, and I still think that's worth something.

"Earlier today, I'm sorry for nearly killing you."

He looked at me with a slight tilt in his neck, as if trying to recall the events from this morning.

"With the arrow and walker and all."

He titled his head back slightly. "Ain't worried about it," he said. "Killed the walker. It's the name of the game these days." He wasn't lying. Keeping the living alive and putting the dead down was definitely this year's motto.

As I stole a glance or two at Daryl as he finished off his cigarette, I couldn't help noticing how comfortable he looked. His demeanor and the way he carried himself made me feel he was completely in his element. Even when he scanned our immediate surroundings, he didn't look anxious or worried- he just was.

"How'd ya learn to shoot?" He finally asked as he put the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe.

"Oh, um, in school."

"Ain't never been to a high school that taught archery."

"I learned in college," I said, correcting him. I supposed if you hadn't been to a university, you automatically don't think of other people going either.

He grunted. "So, what, ya got a degree?"

I nodded, feeling suddenly odd about admitting to it. Did it even matter? Bright side, it looks like I wouldn't have to pay back all those student loans. I cleared my throat, realizing that I needed to get back to the farm. Willa would start to get worried, and she couldn't lecture me if I wasn't there. "We'll start fresh in the morning, looking for her." I paused. "After Ottis' funeral. You and the rest of your group should come. It'd mean a lot."

Daryl nodded. "Sorry… about yur friend."

"Thanks," I said. I started walking away, feeling slightly relieved. I couldn't put my finger on it, but some of the weight on my shoulders had been lifted. Maybe getting away from the house, reminding myself that Carl was going to be okay, or maybe it was Daryl not knowing or caring how painfully cold I had been to Patricia.

"G'night, Cherry."

"Good night, tiger."

...

Song playing is Johnny Cash's "It Ain't Me Babe".

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I liked the idea of doing a little bit more of character development before we get into full swing into life on the farm. This is going to be a rather slow burn with Daryl and Charlie, but I promise you, we'll get there!

As always, I would love to hear from you!