Balancing Judith on her hip, Beth walked her around the edges of the vegetable plot, pointing out the different vegetables to her. It was a warm day with just a light breeze so Beth had taken Judith outside to get some fresh air on her skin.
Carl, who was leaning across the fencing sectioning the veg patch, had come with them, his sheriff hat shielding his face from the sun. He had taken more of an active interest in his baby sister, and Beth, since Rick had taken his gun from him. Beth thought it was good for him, although he didn't seem to think so himself, and he often wandered around with a dark, sullen face, dragging his feet. Beth could see him reach to his belt sometimes, then solemnly flex his empty fingers.
Carl walked beside Beth as they headed back into the building, telling her of his father's plans to introduce their own livestock to their little farm.
'Your dad thinks it would be a good idea, and that it would work.' Carl told Beth as she entered the cell block.
'Where's your daddy going to get to animals from?' Beth asked, gently placing the baby down in her crib.
'Not sure,' Carl shrugged.
Beth stood up, stretching out her arms, to see Zach and Patrick heading their way.
They said their hello's and made idle small talk when suddenly Carl, who had been sitting on one of the tables, leant forward, his eyes wide and sparkling.
'Let's go look for the animals.' He said.
Beth looked at him, confused.
'Come on. We can look after ourselves just fine. Lets get out of here. We could go find supplies nearby, see if we can locate some livestock... why should we always be locked away in here?'
'Because if we go outside we'll die.' Patrick said, looking horrified at Carl.
'We won't,' Carl said, shaking his head in determination, 'We can hold our own.'
'You can,' Patrick said, 'the rest of us are screwed.'
'Beth can,' Carl said, surprising Beth. 'She's been learning to fight, plus she's been on the road with us. Come on.'
Patrick opened his mouth to retaliate when Zach cut across him.
'Let's do it,' he said, his own eyes shining, 'we live here, too. Might as well put in!'
Beth looked back and forth between them; it was a reckless idea, but part of her felt drawn to it.
'Okay.' She found herself saying, her heart beating hard in her chest.
. . .
A little while later their merry band found their selves out the far side of the prison, a place Carl had previously scouted out to be the prime location to jump the fence. There were no walkers crowded up around the chain-link here.
'This is a bad idea,' Patrick mumbled, shaking his head, as Carl hoisted himself up on to a discarded crate, steadying himself once he was a top of it. Then he reached up and grabbed a hold of the metal pole that ran its way around the top of the fence. In this particular section, the barbed wire that ran circular around the pole had fallen away, allowing Carl to shimmy himself up the fence and perch over the top of it in relative safety.
'See you on the other side!' he said, before jumping down. He landed on the grass the other side with a dull thud, then turned to face them through the wire, grinning.
Patrick followed next, his face flushed as crimson as his hair. He had a lot more trouble than Carl did, clambering onto the crate and almost toppling the whole thing over. He managed to pull himself up the fence with difficulty, despite his fair few inches of height over Carl. He landed the other side, toppling over onto the ground, where he huffed for a while before Carl pulled him to his feet.
Beth eyed the fence. Maggie was going to kill her.
'Ladies first.' Zach said from beside her.
Beth rolled her eyes at him, then pulled herself up onto the crate, using her knee to pull the rest of her body forward. She jumped to grab the pole, using the gaps in the iron mesh to stick the toes of her boots through for support, then carefully pulled herself up the fence. It was a lot thinner than she had thought, and the wire seemed to give way beneath her, swaying slightly below her weight. She pulled herself up and cocked one leg over the pole, looking down at the boys, standing on the grass beyond. It looked like a long way down, and her ankle was still a little fragile from its time in the bear trap.
Slowly, she swung her other leg up and over, perching herself to face the other side. Taking a deep breath, she jumped, landing on her feet but remembering to bend her knees to take the impact. The collision with the floor cause her to fall forward, her centre of gravity shifting forward as she landed.
She picked herself up as both Carl and Patrick stepped towards her, Carl extending an arm to her. She stood up, brushing down the front of her jeans, and pushed her hair back behind her ears.
Zach landed a little beside her, stumbling and falling side ways. Beth heard him curse under his breath. She went to him, holding out a hand, which he took. She helped pull him to his feet, where he stood, a little awkwardly.
'Landed bad,' he said, looking down at his foot.
'You okay to go on?' Carl asked.
Zach glanced sideways at Beth.
'Yeah, fine,' he said.
Together, the four of them headed into the tree line beyond the prison, keeping quiet and alert. The walkers were often drawn to the noise from the front of the prison so this section was pretty empty.
For a long time, the only sound was that of the leaves and twigs which crunched and snapped beneath their boots as they traipsed through the undergrowth.
It was nice, Beth thought, as she glanced at the canopy above her to see the sun filtering down through the leaves, a translucent green tint to its glow. The wind was warm and mild as it whispered its way past them, and it felt good to be out of the prison.
'So – uh – if one of them, walkers, comes at me, I can look to you for protection then?' Zach asked Beth as he walked beside her.
'Oh, yeah,' Beth said back, 'I'm practically a martial artist now.'
Zach chuckled, nodding.
'How's your ankle?' Beth asked, nodding down to his leg.
'Oh, yeah, fine,' Zach said, 'nothing really.'
'That's good.' Beth said.
'I heard you often help out in the infirmary,' he said, looking sidelong at her, 'maybe I should get you to patch me up?'
Beth smiled down at the floor as she carefully picked her way over the fallen leaves.
'Maybe,' she said.
'Guys.' Carl's voice drifted back over to them, 'there's a house just up there, lets check it out!'
Beth nodded, hurrying along to follow his lead.
Through the trees stood a derelict looking house opposite a barn. A rough dirt track ran up through the two buildings, along which they walked. They headed towards the house, Carl in front, his knife out and raised. Carefully, he swung the screen door outward, stepping past it to knock gently on the wooden door behind it. He stood, silent, waiting.
'Think it's silent,' he murmured.
The rest of them nodded, then held their respective breaths as Carl pushed the door open. It led straight into a kitchen which was full of stale air; soft little flecks of dust danced their way through the limited light that made its way through and around the wooden planks that had been nailed across the windows. The counter tops were at least an inch thick with dust and the floor was unrecognisable through mud and scattered leaves.
Carefully, the four of them picked their way across the floor, stopping occasionally to see what they could scavenge. A lot of the cabinets doors were water stained and breaking apart, some of them hung from rusted hinges. Patrick opened one cupboard, only to have the door break away in his hand.
Between them they managed to salvage several cans of soups and beans, which they were pleased with.
'We can have a feast tonight,' Zach said, nudging Beth's arm as he lazily threw a can of soup slightly into the air and caught it again with his other hand.
Beth smiled at him.
The room beyond the kitchen was a dusty sitting room, a carpet which billowed clouds of long settled stagnant dust towards them as they stepped down. The sofas looked equally as saturated, and Beth found herself curling her nose up at the pungent aroma that wafted from the long forgotten room.
Beth picked up a yellowing, curled book from the carpet, blowing the dust from the cover. It was an old romance novel - a young, white dressed heroine looked out at Beth as a man in an open shirt and cowboy hat stood behind her, his strong gaze looking up at Beth too.
'Carl,' Beth whispered, holding the book up, 'is this who you aspire to look like?'
'Shut up,' Carl said.
Beth pocketed the book anyway.
'You like romance novels?' Zach asked her, turning over a greying tennis ball in his hands.
Beth shrugged.
'Not that much to read at the prison.' she said, 'you find that?'
'Yep,' Zach nodded, 'not much to do back at the prison.'
Beth smiled.
They left the room, heading for the stairs, when suddenly a cupboard door under the stairs fell open.
A walker who looked no older than any of them lunged at them, its small hands outstretched towards them, its face snarling.
Patrick, who had been closest to the door and unsuspecting, found himself entangled in the walkers grasp.
He cried out, thrashing about, falling to the floor with the young walker on top of him. It gnashed its teeth at him as he tried to push her head away.
'Help me!' he screamed.
Carl grabbed the side table from the bottom of the stairs, leaving the telephone that had been on it to fall to the floor with a bang, and brought it down on top of the walker's head. Patrick rolled out from under it as Carl caved in its skull, bringing the wooden surface down again and again until what had previously been a brain was no more than leaking mush. Bits of brain matter and blood splashed across the hallway, splattering the front of Beth's top.
Carl stopped, dropped the table, and stepped back. He wiped a bloody hand across his forehead.
He looked down at Patrick, who was laying on his back, breathing heavily.
'You okay?' he panted.
Patrick nodded furiously.
'Let's get out of here.' Zach said, his voice stiff.
Taking one last glance at the now motionless walker, they headed back through the rooms they had come in through, making their way to the door. Carl pushed it open, letting the sunlight fall in and illuminate the dirty kitchen. He stepped out on the porch, Beth seconds behind him, to see five walkers heading their way.
Three of them were closer that the others as the other two lagged behind, emerging from the tree line.
'They must have been drawn by the sound.' Beth breathed, panic rearing its ugly head in her chest.
'Stay close,' Carl said. He reached around to his belt beneath his shirt, pulling out his gun. Beth looked at it, wide eyed. But she was too grateful to question it.
As he aimed and shot at the oncoming walkers, Beth pulled out her knife, stabbing it in to the skull of the ones Carl missed as they started their way up the rotting wooden steps towards them, hands outstretched.
One grabbed her, its skeletal fingers wrapping their-selves around her shirt collar, dragging her towards its face with an uncanny strength. Beth struggled, her breath catching in her throat, as she tried to push it away, attempting to get her knife at the right angle. The putrid stench of its breath washed over her, churning her stomach. It was dragging her down, she realised in dismay, as he knees began to buckle.
With a last ditch effort, she twisted her body, ignoring the pain it caused to flare in her right arm and across her back, and jammed her knife into its eyes socket. Fluid oozed its way out of the hole, covering Beth's face in its sticky liquid, but she sank the knife further until the mouth of the walker stopped gnashing and it fell.
It was then, as she picked herself back up, panting and gasping for air, that she felt two strong hands grab her forearms and drag her up, pulling her round.
Daryl was standing in front of her, holding her upright, looking down at her through his hair, blue eyes blazing.
'What are yer playin' at, girl?' he growled.
Beth saw Rick run past them, his face dark with fury. His hands balled into fists, he strode towards his son, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.
'Wha' the hell do you think you're doing!' he yelled, spittle flying into his sons face.
'We went on a supply run,' Carl said, wriggling free from his father's grip.
'Are you serious?' Rick spat, leaning back to glare at his son, 'are you really serious? Do you realise the trouble y'coulda gotten in to – you did get in to, in fact!' he motioned all around himself.
'We know what we're doing.' Carl said.
'No, Carl, no!' Rick ran his hand down his face, shaking his head in disbelief, 'you're kids! Carl! You don't leave the prison! This isn't a game, Carl!'
'No, it's not! It's my life, and I want to be able to help, to be able to make my own decisions!' Carl shouted back.
'Well it's my job to make sure you stay alive long enough to be able t' make yer own decisions!' Rick yelled back, 'I tell you no leaving, I tell you no guns, and I find ya gone and with a gun!'
Rick walked away from Carl, his hands running errantly through his hair.
'An' the rest of you,' he shouted, turning round and pointing at them, 'what a stupid, stupid bunch o' idiots y'all are! You can't do this! You wont do this no more!'
'Yes, sir.' Patrick said, his face bright red and ashamed. Zach nodded.
'Y'hurt?' Daryl said to Beth, letting go of her arms now.
Beth looked down at her gore spattered clothing and gently rubbed her arms, sensing she may have just gained two more hand shaped bruises.
'I think – I think I sprained my arm,' she said, 'but nothing bad.'
'C'mon,' Rick growled, 'get back t'the prison.'
Beth turned to look at the others. Carl's face was flushed with anger.
Rick held out his hand to his son, motioning with his wrist to the gun.
'Gimme the gun, Carl.'
'No, Dad. I can help,' Carl said, staring his dad down.
'Carl.' Rick said, his voice serious.
Sighing, Carl handed it over, grumbling.
Rick stuck the gun in his holster then turned away. He nodded to Daryl, who turned to follow him.
'Why'd y'leave?' Daryl said, looking down at Beth.
Beth looked away from his accusing gaze, suddenly finding herself unable to speak.
'Ya realise the panic I felt when I found ya gone?' he spoke quietly, in a low, gruff voice only Beth could hear.
'We just wanted to get out,' Beth said.
'Ya wanna get out, I take y'out.' Daryl said, 'don't go runnin' off int'a danger like tha'.'
Beth bit her lip. She felt incredibly stupid and incredibly reckless.
'My daddy's gonna kill me,' she said, her heart sinking.
'You're lucky I aint gon' kill ya,' he said.
Beth looked up at him, raising her brows.
'You're a stupid, stubborn girl,' he said softly as they made their way down the dirt track road, back towards the forest.
'You wouldn't have me any other way,' she said softly.
Daryl growled in his throat, but didn't retaliate.
'Get in-between me n' Daryl,' Rick said, pointing at the boys who were lingering behind.
Daryl stepped to the side, letting them walk ahead of him.
'Are you okay?' Zach asked Beth as he walked ahead of her.
'Yeah,' she said, 'I'm alright.'
'You handled that walker like a pro.' Zach said, smiling.
Beth smiled back at him, feeling a little proud.
'Don't.' Daryl growled, throwing Beth a dark, sideways glance.
'How did you know where to find us, anyway?' Zach asked Daryl.
'Tracked ya.' Daryl said.
Zach nodded, musing this information.
'So what did you do before all this started?' Zach asked, 'were you like a ranger or something?'
'Nah.' Daryl shook his head.
'Hey,' Rick called back to them, 'aint a time for a chat.'
Zach nodded, looking down. Beth stifled a laugh as Daryl glanced at her again, and she could see his own lips had turned into a small smile.