Beth was sat on her bed, combing through her wet hair, when her father knocked on her door-frame. She looked up, momentarily drawn from her thoughts.
'Are you feeling better, my dear?' he asked her.
'Yeah, lots.' Beth said, shame washing over her. She brushed her hair down over her face trying to hide her embarrassment from her father.
'Do you want to come and help your old man out in the veg plot?' Hershel asked, 'those crops will be even more important now we have so many more mouths to feed.'
'Sure,' Beth nodded, 'I'll come and join you when I'm ready.'
Hershel nodded, smiling.
Beth braided her damp hair down one side of her neck, sighing. She had woken up feeling a lot better, but she still felt fragile. She could only thank her lucky stars, she thought, that the prison had working showers, for they had played a big part in helping her feel more human.
Whilst her headache had abated, it had been replaced with such a strong feeling of embarrassment that was, if anything, more crippling. It churned her stomach and made her want to curl into a ball in her bed, hiding her face from the rest of the world.
She had woken up, blinking open her sore eyes, on Daryl's lap. Sitting up, she had turned around to see him gently sleeping, his head resting on the wall. She had been full of affection until she remembered being sick on his floor.
Beth buried her face in her hands as she sat on her own bed, clean and refreshed, but no amount of showers could wash away her shame.
He had been completely cool about it, telling her to go back to bed and dealing with it himself. It reminded her of times as a child, being sick and having her father look after and clean up after her.
Thinking about it made her want to be sick again. That wasn't the sort of relationship she had wanted to initiate.
She had kissed him before, too. Her insides wriggled around inside her, squirming in a painful reminder of how idiotic she was. She may as well appreciate that kiss, because there was no chance of it happening again now. She had blown it.
She pulled her boots on and grabbed her old tattered coat, ignoring the shiny new leather that lay at the end of her bed.
. . .
Beth found her father in the vegetable patch as promised. He had dug a shovel into the newly turned over mud and was resting a foot atop of it, leaning one elbow on the top as he stood chatting with Carol, who was standing beyond the fencing, Judith in her arms.
Beth wandered over, squinting against the sun.
'You feeling better today Beth?' Carol asked as Beth approached.
Beth nodded.
'Yes, thanks.'
'Some fresh air will do her good,' Hershel said, chucking some gardening gloves to his daughter. Beth caught them against her chest.
The sun bore down at them from its place in the pale sky, relentlessly heating up their skin until Beth found herself sweating, her coat discarded on the floor just outside the plot. She was grateful to her father for dragging her out here; the physical labour stopped her from focussing on the previous days' events. It also felt more like home, like her and her daddy were just planting their own crops on their farm back home. The veg patch was far away enough from the fences that they couldn't hear the walker's groans, so as long as Beth kept her back to them, she could block them out, forget about them. It was satisfying digging up the dirt, seeing it emerge fresh and light from her shovel. It would be even more satisfying once the fruits of their labour flourished and she could stand back and feel like she was helping their growing community, keeping people fed. It was a good feeling.
Beth stood up, stretching out her back and wiping her forehead on her arm, breathing heavily.
'Uh – hello.'
Beth turned around, squinting in the sun, to see a boy around her age walking up to her. He had two glasses of water in his hands, the cool liquid tantalising to Beth.
'Hi,' Beth said back, a little perplexed.
'Carol said to bring you both a drink,' the boy said, stopping before the fenced off section.
'That is very kind of you, son.' Hershel said, dusting his hands off. He approached the boy, taking one of the glasses.
The boy smiled, shrugging it off.
He held out the other glass to Beth, who took it from him, watching his face.
'I'm Zach.' he said.
'Did you come with the Woodbury lot?' Beth asked.
'Yeah,' Zach nodded, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
'Good to meet you,' Beth said, sipping from the glass she had been handed, grateful to the hydration. 'I'm Beth.'
'I know,' he said, then he ducked his head, blushing. 'I mean – I heard people call you – you know.'
Beth smiled at him.
'You know anything about farming, lad?' Her daddy asked him, sparing his daughter the awkwardness.
'Not really, no,' Zach shrugged.
'Well, why doesn't Beth here teach you? I could do with a sit down.' Hershel said.
Beth looked at her daddy. Okay, maybe he wasn't sparing her any awkward after all.
'Oh I don't want to – I mean -' Zach stammered.
'It's fine,' Beth said, 'can you muck in?'
'Sure.' Zach said, beaming at her.
Beth passed the shovel to him.
She showed him the best places to dig, showing him how to turn the earth, then talked him through the seeds they had as well as the ones they hoped to secure, explaining the best ways to grow each one. Zach listened attentively, nodding along to her words.
'You sure know your stuff.' Zach said.
'I grew up on a farm,' Beth smiled.
'Oh, see I'm a city boy,' Zach said, prodding himself in the chest with his thumb. 'How old are you, Beth?'
'I'm eighteen.' She said.
'So you were in high school when all this -' he waved his arm around them.
'Uh huh,' Beth nodded, thinking. She felt like an entirely different person now from that lifetime ago – what had it been, two years?
'I had just started college.' Zach said, 'had the whole world ahead of me.'
'I never even got to move out of my family home,' Beth smiled.
They looked at each other, a shared sadness in their eyes. An unspoken yet shared understanding of the lives they left behind and the lives they would now never get to live.
Zach broke the tension first.
'So, what do you do for fun around here?' he asked, smiling.
'Uh,' Beth pondered, twirling the end of her braid around her fingers, 'I read.' She shrugged, 'and I sing.'
'Oh that's brilliant,' Zach said, grinning, 'I play guitar! We should jam sometime!'
'Yeah,' Beth said, grinning back, 'that would be really nice – I miss music.'
'Yeah,' Zach nodded.
'You have a guitar here?' Beth asked.
Zach rubbed his hand through the back of his hair.
'No,' he admitted, 'but I'm sure I can find one.'
Beth laughed at his ambition.
'Okay.' She nodded.
They continued working for a little longer until their stomachs alerted them to the time. Beth, who hadn't eaten since the day before yesterday, was starving, and her headache had come back. She stood up, dizzy. She hadn't trusted herself to eat anything in the state she had been in, the fragility remaining that morning, but now she felt much better - and ravenous.
She mentioned it to Zach, who seemed relieved to stop farming. They collected up their tools together and headed into the canteen to wash up and eat.
Zach led Beth over to a table of his friends, fellow college boys who had escaped with him as well as a younger red-headed boy. Beth sat with them beside Zach. They chatted idly to her about the veg plot and her family, a few asked after Maggie, seeming disappointed when she confirmed her relationship with Glen. Most of them were interested in Rick, asking how he became undisputed leader, not trusting her when she said it didn't work like that any more.
The red-headed boy, who Beth had seen around with Carl, introduced himself as Patrick. He was very interested in Daryl, Beth found, whom he called Mr. Dixon.
'What do you know about Mr Dixon?' he asked Beth, 'what did he do before all of this?'
'I – I'm not sure,' Beth said, feeling uncomfortable. Her stomach twisted into knots at the mention of his name.
'Does he ever let anyone else touch his crossbow?'
'Uh no, no I don't think so,' Beth said, 'he mostly keeps to himself.'
Patrick nodded, sitting back in his seat, contemplating.
'He's a cool guy though, isn't he.' he said.
'Patrick's got a crush,' the guy sitting next to him said, nudging Patrick with his elbow.
Beth smiled.
'He's great,' she said softly.
. . .
Beth wandered her way into the common room that evening to find Judith. She hadn't seen the baby for a couple of days, and she missed her. She found her in her crib, with Carol keeping watch. She smiled a hello at the woman, then leant over to coo at Judith. She was snuggled beneath a light blanket, her big eyes looking up at Beth, her hand in her gummy mouth, messily dribbling over it.
'Hey there pretty,' Beth said softly, 'how you been doing?'
She reached in to stroke Judith's podgy little face, smiling. Her eyes and her soft skin cheered Beth up to no end.
'Carol,' she said softly, looking up from the baby. Carol was organising blankets over at a table, but she stopped what she was doing to look at Beth.
'Have you seen Daryl today?' she asked, trying to keep her voice as steady and nonchalant as possible.
'He went hunting this morning,' Carol said, 'said not to expect him back for a couple of days.'
'Oh right.' Beth said, looking back down at Judith. She tried to hide the sinking feeling produced by Carol's words.
Had he left the prison to get away from her? Was he avoiding her? Her head pounded with her own thoughts.
I can't keep living like this she thought.