July 16, 2010
The next morning, Rick sleeps later than he planned, and the sun's position looks like mid-morning when he emerges from the tent he woke up alone in. There were fresh clothes for him to wear, but he knows from the fit they must be donated from one of the other men in camp. No way anything of Shane's would fit this well.
He doesn't see Shane or his family anywhere in sight, but when he spots his uniform hanging on one of the clothes lines near the Dixon camp, he grimaces. After Quinn's very strong ultimatum about the camp laundry, he isn't sure he wants to know who washed it.
The grey-haired woman he assumes is Carol is busy checking garments and taking down the ones that are dry, passing them to Micah, who is sorting them into a series of baskets with labels on them.
"Good morning, deputy," the teenager calls out.
Carol turns slightly, smiling over her shoulder. "Your uniform's about dry. Maybe another half hour. If you don't want to wear it around camp, I can scrounge up another outfit donation so you've got a set to alternate at least."
"You didn't have to do my laundry, but thank you," Rick says. "Who do I thank for the loan?"
She waves away the thanks. "I know that Quinn is upset on my behalf, but if I'm already down there, I don't mind, and the kids and I had a few things necessary already. Besides, we didn't wash all of this. I'm just babysitting the drying process, if you notice the labels on the baskets."
It's Micah who answers the loan part of the question. He's Rick's height, and just growing into a set of shoulders Rick thinks will rival Shane and Merle eventually. He's got the same dark hair and pale, amethyst green eyes as his sister, but lighter skin.
"Shirt's Dale's, but it's from packages Glenn and Quinn found a week ago. We just washed them up and sorted them out to those who needed a spare or two. Pants are mine. Socks and underwear are new. Hadn't made it into anyone's possession yet."
"Shane mentioned they were raiding the department store because people were short on clothing."
"Most folks didn't pack for this long outdoors," Carol replies, unclipping a couple of thin towels and tossing them to Micah. "Jacqui recommended that store because they had a floor with a bunch of men's work clothes, and if we put any more patches on some of the men's pants, they'll just be wearing one big patch."
"That'd probably make Daryl happy," Micah remarks. Carol giggles, causing the teenager to smirk at her. The amusement lights up her features, making him realize she's a lot younger than he initially thought.
"Where is everyone?" Rick can see Dale and Jim are dismantling the sports car for parts and T-Dog's up on the RV on watch. Other than Ed smoking by his tent, no one else is in sight.
"Quinn and Glenn headed out at first light to scout out if that swarm moved on so they can finish yesterday's supply run. Lori's over with Andrea and Amy at the other clothes lines, hanging up the wash they did as we were coming back up with these. Can't see them from here because of the RV.
"Carl's out with Sophia and Jacqui. They were going to see if any blueberries were left at that patch the kids found yesterday. Shane's gone to get more water. The Morales are all down at the lake with their own round of laundry. Merle and Harper took the trash haul off just a bit ago."
At Rick's puzzled look, Micah elaborates on Carol's last statement. "Don't want wild animals wandering up after scraps, and we definitely don't want the bags from the composting toilets staying around, so somebody drives all the trash out of the quarry. There's an old gas station we use as a dumping ground."
He thanks them for the information and moves onward to find Lori. He hesitates at the nose of the RV, just out of their line of sight, watching. Lori's not as slow as Quinn's comments last night would imply, but since all three women seem to be gossiping more than they're actually hanging laundry, he isn't sure it's a good comparison. They definitely don't have the smooth efficiency he's just witnessed between Carol and Micah.
He approaches at last and kisses his wife on the cheek, basking in the bright smile she gives him. "Morning, officer. You sleep okay?"
"Better than I have in a long time, actually."
"Well, we all figured you could use it. I see you found the clothes."
"Yeah. Came across Carol and Micah on the way and they offered more if I needed them."
Lori frowns a little, but seems to make an effort to push the expression away. "Yeah, Carol says that Micah and Daryl are the only ones who wear the same size pants you do. Might have to make do with a belt since I doubt the boy can spare too many and Daryl..." She sighs and the other two women laugh.
"Micah did mention patches..." Rick ventures, which makes even Lori laugh.
"If we hadn't seen more than one pair on the line at the same time he's wearing a pair," Andrea says, "we'd still think he only owns one. Every single pair is identical and probably as old as Carl."
"Only regret about sleeping in is that I didn't get to ask Quinn and Glenn to look for the bag I dropped in Atlanta. I cleaned out the station's gun locker, and I'm thinking we could use those. Plus it's got a walkie from the station, and I promised the man and his son who saved me that I'd check in. I can't let them come into Atlanta unprepared like I did."
Lori hums thoughtfully. "Could monitor the radio. They check in periodically if they're doing a longer run."
"Yeah, I offered to go out with them, and so did T-Dog, but they said they'd rather have the space for the supplies."
"I'm glad you didn't go," Amy declares, smacking her sister with a wet shirt. "I wanted to beat the crap out of Shane yesterday because he said we couldn't spare anyone for a rescue run."
"Hate to say it, but he was right. Sparing more people when there's already so few here was too risky," Rick says. "We got ourselves out."
"Still glad it was you and Glenn that got to wear the walker raincoats and not me."
Rick grimaces, remembering the utter stench combined with the gut-churning fear of walking among the dead, especially once the rain came. "It is not an experience I care to repeat."
Whatever reply Lori is about to make is interrupted by Carl yelling for his parents, obviously frightened. They run into the main part of camp, and Carl gasps out about the walker in the woods. Sophia and Jacqui nod anxiously in agreement.
Shane's back in camp, and Rick grabs a shovel and follows his lead as he and the other men run toward the direction Carl pointed out while Lori stays behind to frantically check over their son.
The frenzied activity of beating on the walker ends when Dale decapitates the thing, and as the adrenaline rush fades, Rick feels foolish that they all beat on it like that. The head rolls around, teeth still snapping, and Shane brings his shotgun to bear when a rustling sounds in the woods.
Rick's glad for Shane's hesitation in firing when a boy not a lot older than Carl emerges and immediately takes several steps back as Shane lowers his gun with an apology.
He's undoubtedly related to Quinn, skin bronzed dark by sun exposure and making the light colored eyes stand out. The main difference is that his dark hair is dyed a midnight blue. He's got a compound bow in his hands, but wears a small pistol similar to Quinn's in a holster.
The man that pops out of the woods behind the boy makes identifying him as Merle's brother pretty easy by the tirade he unleashes at the dead walker who ruined his deer. He finishes by shooting the walker in the head, admonishing them for leaving it, and Dale's attempt to calm him only seems to rile him more until the boy calls his attention back to the deer.
They mournfully debate whether or not their kill is still edible. Rick feels squeamish at the thought, but thankfully, Daryl seems to take Shane's advice on it not being safe.
"Need to get rid of the deer before it attracts more," the redneck says at last. "And somebody needs to drag that poxy bastard off before the smell gets to camp."
"Jim and I will get rid of our unwanted guest," Dale volunteers. He gingerly picks up the head by the hair, dropping it onto the walker's chest. They each take a leg and start pulling it away.
Daryl passes the string of squirrels he carries off to Jesse, who shifts his bow to one hand since he wears a small backpack and can't sling it to his back like Daryl did the crossbow.
"Take those back to camp and get them cleaned up. See if the girls can help you. Don't be putting extra work off on Carol since she's gonna be feeding you later."
The boy grins and trots off, leaving Daryl to sigh and start pulling bolts out of the ruined deer. That done, he turns and looks at Rick, frowning. "You're new."
"Rick Grimes." Rick offers a hand, despite Daryl's general griminess. He can tell now about the teasing from the others regarding Daryl's clothing. Well worn doesn't even begin to describe it.
Jesse's clothing was fairly normal for a teenage boy, but he was equally as dirty from the hunting trip. The least Rick can do is not be bothered by a dirty handshake when the man's attempting to feed the camp.
"Grimes. Like Lori and the boy?" the redneck asks, arching a brow as he looks towards Shane.
The other deputy nods. "He wasn't as dead as it appeared when we had to evacuate. Made it to Atlanta yesterday and our group had to save him from himself."
"M'Daryl, but you probably know that if you been in camp." He looks back to the deer with a grimace. "Dammit."
"How about me and Rick drag it off and you go on back to camp? No sense in having to do more work after tracking it for days," Shane suggests.
The other man shrugs and walks off toward camp without any farewell.
"And now you've met Daryl. Merle refers to him as the sweet one." Shane grins as he grabs the deer's hind legs. "You grab the front ones and we'll see how far out we can drag it. Think there's a ravine not too far we can roll it down. He's right that we sure as hell don't want fresh blood attracting any more walkers if they're leaving the city now."
Rick grabs on to do his part, mulling over the worry of the walker so far out of the city. If they're migrating, like Dale and Jim suggest, the camp isn't secure anymore.