Wow. Okay, the quarter is ending at school, and teachers are all excited about Spring Break. For some reason, that translates into more homework. Don't ask me why, but it does. And- I dropped my tablet again, so this is being written on my ipod. Please excuse any typos, and please, please REVIEW! :)
She turned to Carl, walking towards the fence with him, out of earshot of the others.
Carl looked at her nervously. "My Dad?"
"He's fine. Working with Daryl, trying to figure out how they turned."
Carl nodded, looking relieved, before he looked at her again. "How bad was it?"
"Couldn't tell. Panic, screaming, dead people running around. Haven't seen shit like that since this whole thing started."
Carl nodded again. "You alright?"
"Doing pretty good, considering the shit just hit the fan again. Where's your gun?"
"My Dad took it back after the incident with the JD." Carl said, sounding slightly disappointed. He wouldn't have been able to save anyone in the cellblock,even if he'd been closer, without a gun.
"Take this one, then." She pulled her own pistol from her waistband, pressing it into Carl's hand.
Carl looked hesitant. "What if you need it?"
"You need it more." She gently pressed his fingers around it. "Sides- I got my bow."
Carl nodded, convinced, before pocketing it. "What are we gonna do?" He asked quietly.
Jamie shrugged. "What we always do- make do with what we got. Stay close to Judy and watch your back. It ain't safe here anymore."
Carl nodded, and both their eyes drifted to the walkers clawing at the fence. With everything that'd just happened, everyone was huddling anxiously around the cellblock, waiting for news. There was no one on fence duty.
"I got it. Watch Judy." Jamie said simply, striding towards the fence purposefully, ditching her bow and instead grabbing the sharpened metal rod Glenn liked to use, heading towards the fence.
Some Woodburians shot nervous glances at her, but she could care less. She'd already accepted the fact she'd never be one of them- never civilized, never able to settle down, always on the prowl for danger. She'd never feel completely safe again on this world. But she felt pretty damn close to it when she was curled up with her father's strong arms around her.
The walkers moaned, grinding their teeth together and clawing desperately at the chain-link.
She jostled the rod in her hand a little, testing the weight. It felt good, solid, in her hand. She focused on one head before thrusting it through, hearing it go through flesh and bone with a sickening gush before withdrawing, listening to the satisfying thud of the carcass hitting the dirt. This was who she was, now.
"That was Patrick." Rick said, looking down at the body, dismayed.
"The hell- what happened to his face?" Daryl pointed towards the bloody ridges on his skin.
Just then, there was a roar. Steve, his name had been, was at the bars of his cell, making all the sickening sounds of a walker as he reached towards them in a futile effort.
"He couldn'ta been bit." Daryl said, looking at the man carefully. "Always locks his cell, since he sleep-walks."
"The same marks on his face..." Rick said calmly, noting the bloody ridges with a sick fascination.
"Somethin' had ta have done that." Daryl said simply. "Looks almost like the marks on the walkers by the fence..."
"You've seen this before?" Rick asked, shocked.
"Yeah. Some walkers outside the fence had it, I seen some of them hanging around lately..."
They both exchanged nervous glances, then, realization hitting them hard.
"Get Dr. S and Hershel- before we've got an epidemic.
Tyreese watched her at the fence carefully. The kid was covered in walker blood. It'd dried on her skin and clothes in the hour since she'd been out.
She'd just walked out of the cell block like it was nothing, covered in blood, bow slug over her shoulder, baby held against her in one hand and pistol in the other.
He'd seen the way everyone reacted to her. Most of them were afraid.
There was one thing he knew, though. Ever since he'd seen her come in that first night after they'd moved to the prison and clean her bloody knife- she was tough.
Jamie didn't look up. She heard the crunch of gravel, someone approaching her, but she didn't really care. She wasn't in the mood to talk right now.
The crunching stopped, and a shadow fell over her. She glanced over at Tyreese from where she'd been holding the rod before plunging it through another walker.
"What?" She asked, not looking at him.
"Are you alright?" He asked calmly. That caught her off guard slightly. She'd expected to be grilled about what'd happened in the cell block, if she'd killed the living, not of she was okay...
Tyreese could see the question surprise her slightly. She wasn't used to people asking if she was okay, he realized- she was used to dragging herself on, not caring what state she was in.
"I'm alive, ain't I?" She said, before plunging the rod into another walker.
"But that doesn't mean you're okay." Tyreese said calmly.
She shrugged. "To me, alive is okay. Why aren't you with the others, huddling around like some anxious mom..."
"Because I wondered if you were alright. You're a mess. If you don't have fresh clothes, Sasha might..."
"No. But thanks. I'm used to being dirty." She turned back to the fence and stopped dead, seeing a teenage boy with half his face ripped off snarling at her. His filthy hair was brown, but he was wearing a denim jacket...
The rod hit the gravel and her switchblade was in her hand before she even knew it, blade deployed by an unconcious flick of her wrist. It was second nature, now. She stabbed, pulling the switchblade out to plunge it in again, and again, before the body hit the ground outside.
She looked down at it remorsefully, panting. For a moment, she'd almost thought it was Ryder, almost said his name...
Tyreese watched her look down sadly at the body. Clearly there was something the boy had reminded her of, something that'd made her remember...
Some Woodburians were, once again, looking nervously at her. Jamie simple cleaned her knife on her already bloody shirt and flicked the blade closed, pocketing it again before glaring at Tyreese, daring him to say something. He didn't.
"Why aren't you afraid of me like the rest?" She asked finally, still scowling at him.
"Because you only kill walkers." he said calmly.
Her eyes hardened. "I've killed before."
"We've all killed before. When we had to." Tyreese said simply, and she nodded, slowly letting the tension drop from her shoulders.
"So you understand, then." she stooped, picking up the metal rod and stabbing another walker.
"Everyone else is afraid of me. They were raised in some little fairy land..." She punctuated the statement by stabbing another walker.
"They don't understand what it takes to survive on the road. They've never seen a kid like me- someone who isn't afraid to do what they gotta."
"They aren't afraid of you." Tyreese said.
Jamie scoffed. "Did you see how they looked at me when I walked out of that cell block? I'm a monster to them."
"You're not a monster." Tyreese said vehemently, so firmly it surprised her.
"I try to think that. Everyone loved me when I was hunting with Dad, but now they they've seen me around walkers... They think I'm some kinda savage." Jamie stabbed another one through the fence, thoughts drifting once again to Daryl.
"They don't understand you. They're just afraid of what they don't understand." Tyreese said.
Jamie shrugged, looking back towards the cellblock door again. It'd been an hour...
"Have you heard anything about my Dad? He's been in there for awhile..." she shot another glance towards the cellblock door. No one had come out since she had.
"No. But your Dad's fine- he's tough, like you." Tyreese said. She gave him a small smile before stabbing through the fence again.
They stood in silence for a few moments before the door to the cellblock opened.
"Council meeting in the office-now." was all Rick said, before striding towards it, Daryl beside him.
She moved towards Daryl, looking at him nervously as she fell into step beside him.
"I'm alright." Daryl assured her. "Stay close to Carol and Judy, alright?"
She nodded, befare walking away. She knew she'd never be allowed in a council meeting that was so serious, and she was about to walk over to Carol when she noticed Mika sitting on the grass, knees pulled to her chest, staring absently at the grass.
She looked around, wondering where the girl's father was. That was when it hit her- he hadn't made it.
She could see it in the way Mika looked at the ground, fiddling absently with the buttercups. She hadn't cried, no, but no one could really cry right after you'd seen it happen.
It was sinking in for her, now, that her father was never coming back. She could see the shock still fresh in her eyes and was reminded of the little girl she'd been, what, almost a year ago, now?
And it was then she noticed what the girl was sitting next to. A Cherokee Rose. She couldn't help but smile.
Whenever they were hunting together, Daryl would always point out the Cherokee roses to her and tell her the story about the Indians.
And he'd always smile when he saw them, like they were his favorite flower, if someone as badass as her father could have a favorite flower. She had a feeling it had something to do with Carol, but she never voiced her suspicions...
Still, she walked over and sat beside Mika in the grass, careful not to crush the rose between them.
Mika stared at the ground.
"I'm sorry." Jamie said quietly.
Mika looked up, surprised. Her eyes were so vulnerable, she was just a kid, just a kid who wanted her father...
"It's gonna be okay. Someday, it won't hurt to think about him..."
She reached down and plucked the Cherrokee rose, holding it out to the girl, who gingerly took it.
"See that? It's a Cherrokee rose. They bloomed for Indian children who died- but I think that one bloomed for your Dad. Keep your head up, kid."
She went to stand, but Mika stopped her, reaching out, suddenly, grabbing her forearm. Her pained eyes locked with Jamie's. "How'd you keep going? After your re Dad died?"
Jamie let out a breath. She'd been hoping the girl wouldn't ask.
"I... After my Dad was bit, it was just me and my brother. We struck out of the road together, figured if we made it to Fort Bennington, we'd be okay. I guess... There wasn't time to be sad. We were just going day to day, trying to find a safe place, enough food to keep going. We had to keep living for each other."
Mika nodded. "What happened to him?" she asked quietly.
Jamie flinched slightly- she'd been hoping Mika wouldn't ask that, too.
"I... Don't wanna talk about it." Jamie said calmly, before she stood. "Just... Keep your head up. Be strong for Lizzy." God knew Lizzy needed someone right now.
Sure, Lizzy was a jerk, but having almost all your famy dead wasn't something she'd wish on anybody.
And with those words, she stood and walked away, staring out at the woods. There was no way she could leave to hunt, not with things in such a fragile state, but there was nothing she could do, either. No immediate danger, nothing to fight.
She felt useless.
The council was in a meeting, and Carl sat by Judy, gun in his waistband. Jamie turned, realizing the walkers were still accumulating by the fence, and grabbed the old metal rod. She'd have to kill them. Killing seemed to be about the only useful thing she could do now.