Honorable Intentions
Chapter 10: That which could not be calculated…
"I had thought about everything carefully before I had agreed to him. I had made every preparation, every calculation, except for those two essentials that could not be calculated; his heart and mine." ― Jeanette Winterson
The whispers followed her through camp, ceaseless murmurs that ebbed and flowed depending on whether or not they thought she could hear. No longer was she invisible. They were always watching, watching, watching. Sophia could feel their eyes on her, grating like sand on her skin. She knew what they thought…monster, freak, fiend, and devil. Her mother still saw her baby but the others only saw what she'd done. It didn't matter why she used the knife or how afraid she was. She was a child; she was a killer. She had blood on her hands and it terrified them. She had to get away.
Merle found her down by the water, sitting on the rock where Daryl first taught her to handle a knife. He hung back, studying the girl's hunched shoulders and how she folded herself into a ball. Anger surged hot and bright as memories rolled through him. The kid looked rough and who could blame her. She'd been through hell and these high and mighty fuckers weren't making it any easier. They didn't know what it took to survive like this girl did, like him and his brother did. Merle snorted under his breath before walking toward her, plastering a smile on his face to put her at ease. He understood now what drew Daryl to the kit and her mama. Little brother saw himself in the gal and the way her mother loved her was something the Dixon boys had never known. He circled them as a moth does a flame.
"Whatcha doin, girl? You ought to know better than to go off on your own."
Forget me not blue stared up at him, luminous with unshed tears. Her breath hitched as she breathed deep, small fists curled at her side. "Sorry," she muttered. "I know but I just had to…I couldn't…"
He stooped and picked up a flat rock, sending it skipping across the water with a flick of his wrist. "Why?" The question was an afterthought; his attention focused on the one, two, three flips the rock made before ducking beneath the surface, hoping she would oblige him and take the bait.
Her small face twisted into a frown as a lone tear slipped free and rolled down her cheek. "They hate me!" The words burst from her as water does from a dam. "They don't want me here."
Turning to face her, he sat on his haunches and rested his elbows on his knees. "So what? You don't owe them a damned thing. You did what you had to do, Soph." Her wordless headshake tugged at his heart. "You did. He would have killed that boy and taken you and your mama. You know it."
Sophia shivered in response, the movement rippling through her from her head to her toes. "He should have left like Daryl told him to. He should've left us alone. Why didn't he? Why didn't he just let us go?"
How many times had he said those very words while nursing split lips and black eyes? How many promises had he made, curled up under a rough wool blanket during basic, that things would be different when he got back home? Daryl had been a little runt when he lit out, joining the army to get away from their old man and his granite fists. He was bigger when Merle got out, still quiet and tending toward staying to himself. He ducked his head and mumbled hello when Earl Dixon cuffed him roughly and ordered him to welcome Merle back into the fold. Daryl sat in the corner, nursing a beer while he and the old man put away a case between them. Making up for lost time, the old man called it.
Merle woke up the next morning with a pounding head and bruised knuckles. Daryl's battered face spoke volumes about those lost hours from the previous evening. Earl laughed and called his youngest son a pussy. Maybe your sorry ass should join up, boy? Reckon Uncle Sam could make a man out of you? Merle felt like he was going to puke.
"You can't worry about why that asshole did what he did. It's done now. He can't hurt you no more."
"But he can," her whisper soft reply cut at his heart. "Everybody hates me now. They're afraid. They don't want me here."
"Do you want to go, Sophia?" Merle asked gently. "Daryl said we'd take off if you say the word."
If anything, she withdrew further into herself, a tiny waif with the weight of the world on her shoulders. He almost missed her nod, it was so brief. "I can't stay," she mouthed more than said aloud. "I can't."
He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and waited until she looked up before announcing, "Alright then. We'll leave tomorrow. Let's get back up to camp. We've got a lot to do before then."
"Sophia?" Fear anchored Carol in place, her eyes sweeping the camp in search of a familiar blonde head. The Morales family looked up uncertainly, the mother's mouth tightening before she smoothed her expression into something resembling concern.
"Carol," she called. "Is everything okay?"
Carol rubbed her hands on her shirt and forced a calm tone. "I was just looking for Sophia. Have you seen her?"
Miranda murmured a negative and then looked around warily. "Not since this morning. Could she have gone hunting with Daryl? I saw him head out a while ago."
"No," Carol demurred. "She didn't. At breakfast, she said she was going to ask Eliza if she wanted to go fishing with Andrea and Amy."
"She did," Miranda chimed in. "But I wanted Eliza to work on her lessons. She promised that she'd go next time."
The effort it took to bite her tongue knotted Carol's jaw. "Sophia will like that. Excuse me. I'm going to see if I can find her." Her heart curdled in her chest when she heard the woman's relieved sigh as she walked away. The group was made up of good people, decent people but it had become unbearably clear that they were having a difficult time accepting what Sophia had done. Rick and Lori Grimes were grateful that Carl was safe and went out of their way to be supportive. The Harrison sisters and Dale made a concerted effort to keep a sense of normality about the camp. Even so, she'd noticed the sideways glances and low voiced comments that were swiftly hushed when they saw her or Sophia or either of the Dixon brothers.
They couldn't stay here.
Carol headed for the quarry, hoping that her instinct was right and that Sophia would have sought refuge there. Halfway down the path, she caught a glimpse of Merle Dixon and the smaller figure of her daughter walking side by side, wearing identical determined expressions. They'd already reached the same conclusion she'd come to…it was time to go. She walked faster, a warm smile blooming on her face.
Two months passed since they'd left the quarry, angling north and west to miss most of the larger towns. Daryl hadn't questioned their decision to leave. He took one look at Sophia and the hopeful expression she wore and that's all it took. "That's what we'll do then. We'll leave in the morning. Better get a move on if we wanna head out at first light."
Rick argued that they were making a mistake. He looked sick when the rest of the group didn't echo his sentiments. Lori, alone, backed him. The woman's eyes were wet when she hugged them goodbye, whispering that she would miss them. Carol almost broke at the thought of leaving her friend behind. Seeing Sophia's pale face and the way she clutched the rag doll Eliza Morales shyly handed over brought back Carol's certainty that they were doing the right thing.
Merle unloaded the big Triumph from the back of Daryl's truck and stuffed the saddlebags full of supplies. They loaded the rest of their meager belongings in its place and rolled out just as the sun broke over the horizon. Sophia relaxed with every mile they put behind them, her smiles coming more and more frequent. They quickly set a routine of the elder Dixon scouting ahead and then doubling back when he found a likely shelter or a store that hadn't been cleaned out yet.
"She's gonna be alright," Daryl gave unexpected reassurance one night as they knelt next to a low burning fire. His blue eyes were unwavering as they met hers. "She will. I know it."
Carol looked back at him and felt uncertain warmth kindle in her soul. As foolish as it might seem, she trusted him. Sophia trusted him. Surely that meant that everything was going to be alright. She flicked a glance to where her girl slept, quiet and still and peacefully. She felt a feather light touch on her arm and looked up to meet his earnest gaze again.
"Merle says there are a few farm still in one piece out where he was today. Maybe we'll check them out. Could be something there."
"You mean we might be able to stay for a while?" The mere thought of having somewhere to call their own felt decadent. It was too good to be true but his little quirk of a smile steadied her.
Daryl's fingers brushed her arm again. "Merle thinks so. One of them looks like there's still people. We'll have to be careful but it could work. You wanna try it? You and Soph get the final say."
She caught his hand in a loose grip and tangled their fingers together before letting go. "We can try," she echoed, reveling in the way his smile widened ever so slightly. "We can try."