Chapter 2
I had refused to help Lori earlier, when she asked me to find Rick, Glenn and Hershel. I feel like shit for doing that, but I can't change the past. I walk back into camp, and glance around. People are frantically searching for someone. Carol spots me and jogs over to me. She is dirty and has some cuts on her, but I don't ask.
"Have you seen Lori?" She asked me.
"Yes." I tell her, "She came by asking me to find Rick, Glenn and Hershel. I told her that I'm done looking for people. She probably went to look for them herself."
"Thanks." Carol tells me simply. She jogs over to Shane. I feel a pang of anger, and I leave them all to themselves. I go back to my little place outside of camp, and relax. I sit on a log and begin making arrows for my bow. I think I'm still bitter towards Carol, but even still. I make a handful of arrows, and then duck into my tent. I rummage around, trying to find some more sticks. I hear someone walking up. I tense. I listen for a while, but the footsteps stop at the cloths line I made for myself. I duck out of the tent and see Carol.
"What are you doing here?" I ask her bitterly.
"I wanted to know why you're pushing all of us out." Carol says, shifting. She folds her arms over her chest and stares at me.
"I don't need to tell you shit." I say to her. I feel my nerves stirring. Carol shifts again.
"I'd like to know." Carol says finally, looking at me.
"I'd like to know why you didn't attend your own daughter's funeral, but we all can't have nice things, can we?" I snap back. Carol flinches.
"Don't-" Carol starts, but I turn around. I can't talk with her. I feel like I'm going to choke. I grab my bow and walk off, closing my eyes and sighing.
"I won't let you push me away!" Carol shouts after me. I hear a crack in her voice. What am I doing? Will I-
"Shut up and hunt." I mumble to myself, readying my bow and creeping into the forest. I creep through and listen as I do. I hear a squirrel nearby. I creep over to the forest and glance around. I look right at the squirrel, which has stopped dead in its tracks. It listens deeply. I point my bow at it, just to test its reaction. The squirrel doesn't even twitch. I glance over at where the squirrel is looking. A walker is limping up. I curse quietly. The squirrel is still not paying attention to me. The walker is paying attention to me. I curse again and point the bow at the walker. I pull the trigger and nail it in the head. I walk over and pull the arrow out of the walker's head and wipe it off on my pants. I glance over towards the squirrel, and it has scurried away. I curse and walk away, frustrated. I head back to my little camp, and head over and check on the squirrels. Carol is back.
"What?" I ask her, taking one down. She winces at me.
"Have you heard?" She asks me. I glance over at her.
"Heard what?" I ask her.
"About Lori…" Carol replies, cocking her head. I sigh.
"About her being…err…expecting?" I ask, uncomfortable. Carol nods, and sighs.
"What do you think?" Carol asks me.
"I don't really have an opinion on the matter. She wants this to happen, she can let this happen." I reply, glancing up at Carol. Carol is smiling. Damn it. I feel a lump form in my throat. I gulp, and glance back at the squirrel.
"Why do you say that?" Carol asks, coming a little closer.
"I gave you an answer, didn't I?" I snap. I hear her sigh.
"I really do care about your opinion." She says. I sigh.
"Stop it." I say weakly.
"What?" Carol asks, confused.
"Stop!" I shout turning to her, "Stop caring! I don't need you to!"
I realize what I said, and I turn away from her. Carol is staring at me. I feel it. She tries to touch my shoulder, but I shift. She lowers her arm, and sighs. She continues to watch me. I sigh and cut open the squirrel, starting the process of gutting it. I glance at Carol to watch her gag. She takes a couple of steps away, turning away from what I'm doing. I glance back at what I'm doing, and I pull out the giblets I'm going to use later.
"I don't understand how you can stomach that." She tells me, gulping. I don't make a comment, though I want to. I continue to gut the squirrel, and I begin to skin it, spotting tons of fat around the squirrel's sides.
"Well, I see you're…busy now. I'll swing by later." Carol says, walking away. I mumble a goodbye to her and finish gutting this squirrel. I glance over and see a fire and pan set up for me.
"I don't need her to baby me." I mumble, walking over to the pan. I put the squirrel in it, and toss in some of the fat I had to pull off of the meat. I'm surprised about it, but I don't do much to change it. I eat the squirrel in peace.
I'm lying in my tent in the night when someone comes up to the tent. There is a scratch on the tent, but it sounds like its voluntary. I unzip it, and see Carol lit by a flashlight. I sigh.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright." She says to me. I don't look her in the eyes.
"I don't care if you're giving me the silent treatment. You needed to get that out, and I appreciate it, even if it wasn't the most considerate thing to say. You need to feel comfortable with me." Carol says.
"I don't gotta feel comfortable with no one." I reply coldly. Carol sighs, and closes her eyes. She looks at me.
"If this has anything to do with Sophia, I didn't attend her funeral because I didn't think it was real." Carol admits to me, sitting down. I glance away from her, a lump forming in my throat.
"I know you went." She tells me. I make no comment. Carol tries to stroke my hair, but I swat her hand away. I give hear a hard stare. She sighs, and cocks her head. Her eyes grow soft. I shiver a little.
"Thank you." She says. I shift, and scoot back into my tent. I zip it back up and lay back down, listening to Carol walk away. I close my eyes.
I creep through the forest, alone and scared. I listen for anything. I see a buck. I raise my arms, but I'm holding no crossbow. I lower my arms and stare at the deer. I cock my head, and sigh. I inch closer to it, as it braces for something. I shiver, and hear something behind me. I tense up, and glance behind me with my right shoulder. There's nothing there. I feel someone grab my arm, and bite my left shoulder.
"Daryl!" I screech. Nobody hears me, of course. The buck hesitates, but runs away. I don't blame it. I kick the walker off of me, and I take off running. I run towards the creek. I drop to my knees, and try to wash off the wound. I remember what happened to Amy and Jim, and I begin to freak out.
"I don't wanna die… Daryl!" I whisper, and scream. I hear the walker coming, and I take off. I glance back when I remember my doll, but it's too late now. I have to run. I get farther up the creek. My bones feel like glass, and my fever is so bad that I begin to tremble. I am in pain.
"I'm not going to die…" I mumble, creeping farther along. I heave myself forward, until I can't move. I collapse and rasp. I hear the walker getting closer.
"Go away…" I moan. I try to roll over, but I can't. I feel like I'm fading away. I don't want to die. Don't let me die. I want to live. I want to live…I want to… I want… I…
I close my eyes and start to relax.
"I want to live…" I whisper, "I…I'm sorry Daryl…Mom…Rick…Carl…everyone…I'm sorry…"
I open my eyes in a cold sweat. I feel tears streaming down my face. I am shaking. I gulp. I glance down at my arms. They're mine. Why was I…?
"Daryl?" I hear. I glance over at the tent. I see the outline of Carol.
"What?" I ask. My voice cracks as I ask.
"Are you alright?" Carol asks, her voice filled with worry. She unzips my tent, and pokes her head in. She sees how I am, and covers her mouth with her hand. I look away from her.
"Tell me what happened." She begs me. I shift.
"Daryl!" I hear Rick call. I sigh and rub my head, wiping my face. I crawl out of my tent to find Rick and Shane staring at me. Carol glances at Shane, and walks away without saying a word. I shift and stare at Rick.
"We need to get some information out of Randall." Rick tells me.
"Who's this?" I ask, confused.
"Randall is someone Rick and I tried to kill yesterday. He knew too much." Shane says.
"Isn't his group coming for him?" I ask.
"That's what we need you to worm out of him." Rick says. I nod, and scratch my head. I grab my knife and put it in its sheath. I walk with Shane to the slaughter shed, and enter with Shane's permission. Shane grabs my arm.
"Don't fuck up Daryl. I'll come for you if you do." Shane threatens.
"Go ahead and try. I dare you." I spit at him. Shane glares, but lets me enter the shed. Randall looks up at me with fear consuming his eyes.
"Tell me about your group." I say, sitting in the stool in front of him.
"We're not as fortified as you all are." He says with a nervous laugh. I glare.
"How many people are armed?" I ask. Randall gulps. I sigh.
"Uh…I wasn't with them for a while." He says. I stand up and punch him in the cheek.
"Tell me how many people are armed in your group." I say, clenching my other fist.
"Uh… I don't know." Randall says, giving a smile. I punch him again.
"How many?" I ask.
"I think ten!" He shouts. I punch him three times.
"I've told you!" He shouts at me.
"You haven't told me shit!" I shout in reply, punching him again.
"I don't really know the people in my group!" Randall shouts in fear.
"How many are in your group?" I ask him. He hesitates, and gulps. I draw my knife as soon as he does this.
"I think there are 30!" Randall shouts, "We never stay in one place for more than a day. I don't know where they're going to go next!"
I rip off the bandage. I need more information. I drive my knife into his wound. He screeches.
"We've got automatics!" Randall shouts in pain, "But I'm not dangerous I swear!"
I pull my knife out, and stare at him.
"One time, while we were scavenging, we found this dad and his two daughters. Everyone else raped the girls in front of their father for the fun of it. I'm not like that, though!" Randall quickly adds as I leave. I lock the shed back up and walk to Shane and Rick.
"If his gang rolls through here our boys are dead, and our women they're gunna, well they're gonna wish they were." I reply. Rick and Shane nod, and glance at one another. Anger pangs through me, and I walk away from them. Carol comes up to me.
"What did you do?" She asks me, annoyed.
"We had a little chat." I reply. I leave Carol staring after me and walk off. I walk to my little setup in camp. I sat down, staring at my bare knuckles and shaking the pain off. I must have been punching that kid hard.
"Did it hurt to punch the guy?" Carl asks me. I glance up in surprise.
"I've been hurt worse." I reply, "You too buddy."
Carl chuckles. "Can I try to shoot that?" He asks, pointing at my bow.
"Your arm ain't long enough." I reply, rubbing my knuckles.
"Yea it is." Carl says, showing me how long his arm is. I chuckle.
"Stick to guns. It takes less skill." I say, looking at him. Carl glances behind me, and I glance at my knuckles. I hear someone walking up, and I look over. Carol looks like she has a bone to pick with me.
"Where's your old man? Why don't you go pester him?" I ask Carl, using the bow to help myself up. He nods, and walks off. I turn to face Carol and she hands me a handkerchief.
"Did you get what you wanted?" She asks me bitterly, "Approval? Thanks? You couldn't hit me so you beat up a kid instead. Is that who you are now?"
"He ain't no kid." I reply, "I'd do a lot worse than hitting you if you gave me the chance."
"That's not what this is about and you know it." Carol replies. I stare at her. A combination of shock, pain, and anger swells from deep within me.
"What do you want me to do? Huh? I don't need this." I say.
"Don't pretend like you don't care." Carol says, anger swelling in her voice too, "You don't want your friendship back, take it. Every kind and smart thing you said, take it all back I don't care. I've lost worse. But don't sit back here and tend to your bloody fists, and pretend you don't care."
I see clear pain in her eyes. I've really hurt her. She stares at me for a few more seconds, before she walks away in anger. I stare after her, nervous and in pain. I sigh, and rub my bloody knuckles. I need to talk with her later. I wander around for a little and sigh. I stare down at the ground and close my eyes. I need to tell her about my dream. That…is something I can no longer ignore. I probably slept through a day. I wander over to the bolts I made and begin inspecting them, making sure they're sharp enough and strait enough. I do this mostly to kill time in wait for Carol to be in a better mood before talking with her. I glance over and see Dale coming up.
"The whole point of coming out here is to get away from you people." I say, sighing. "Did Carol send you?"
"I'm genuinely concerned about you. You know, she's not the only one concerned about you or your role." Dale says, a little hurt. I look at him.
"This group is broken. I'm better off fending for myself." I say.
"Where do you stand on Randall being killed?" Dale asks me.
"I don't care if he lives or dies." I reply, placing the bolt with the rest of them.
"Then stand with me!" Dale says, reaching for me. I flinch away from him.
"It doesn't matter what I say. My opinion won't matter 'cause Rick only listens to Shane." I reply, "I don't trust Shane either. He killed Otis, and I know it. I don't believe his story because he came back with a dead man's gun."
"And you don't care?" Dale asks me. I sigh and make no reply. Dale shakes his head and begins to walk away.
"This group's broken." I say again as Dale walks away. I wait a few minutes before walking off myself, grabbing my bow. I search the camp quietly, and find Carol. I tap her shoulder and nudge my head towards the forest. She sighs and gets up, following me as I walk. We get out of earshot of the camp.
"I'm going to start out by saying I'm sorry." I tell her. Carol blinks in surprise. She opens her mouth, but I hold up my finger to shush her.
"I'll only have the nerve to do this once." I tell her, "I had a dream last night where I was a lost little kid. I found a deer standing in the forest, and I tried to approach it. The deer was watching something behind me, and when I looked back nothing was there. I then got grabbed and bitten on my left shoulder. I cried out in Sophia's voice. It all felt so real, that when I woke up I was a mess."
"Daryl…"Carol says, covering her mouth.
"Sophia has been the reason I'm avoiding you and pushing you away. I let her in. I let myself care about her. I allowed her to go missing, and I couldn't find her. I couldn't save her. I wasn't there to help her, or to take her life when she needed it. I feel guilt when I look at you. When you smile, and laugh, I think of her. How I couldn't save her. It brings me pain, and I feel…I feel guilt." I say quickly, rubbing my arm.
"It's alright, Daryl. I forgive you. She's waiting up in heaven for us. She always said that she wanted to be your friend, and that you look like you need a hug. She always told me she'd be the one to give you one." Carol says to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. I look up at her.
"Heh. I'd probably just push her away too." I tell her, chuckling.
"Admitting things is hard. I'll admit that. But don't you feel better? Like a weight was lifted off of your chest?" Carol asks me.
"Yea, I guess you're right." I tell her. She hugs me. I wince. I pat her back.
"You're really awkward at this." She tells me, laughing a little. I chuckle at her.
"My family wasn't the huggin' type." I reply. She breaks the awkward hug and pats my shoulder. She walks back into camp. Carol's right; I do care.
I walk around Woodberry and smile to myself. I feel like he happiest girl alive. I spot Merle looking at a picture in his wallet.
"Who's that?" I call over, though I already know who it is.
"It's Daryl." He replies, showing me the picture. He's never shown me, so I take this with great seriousness. Daryl looks to be around five in this picture. He's smiling and holding a toy. It's just a stuffed dog, but he looks so happy.
"That toy carried him through his toddler years. He tended to it so carefully. He always treated it like it was a child or something." Merle says calmly. I smile and look at him.
"It was one of the rare times that I saw him happy." He admits, sighing.
"I know how much you care about him." I tell him.
"He stayed with that group from Atlanta though." Merle replies.
"I doubt they'd actually leave you on the roof." I say, "I think they went back for you. And I think that Daryl was amongst the people that went back."
"Probably." Merle says, sighing, "I just miss him and I'm worried about him, you know?"
"I actually wouldn't know. Brother's never been like that for me. At least Daryl knows you worry about him." I tell him.
"Heh…Knew." He corrects, his voice catching. He looks like he's going to cry. I slap Merle across the cheek.
"Knows. We have no proof that he's dead, or alive. He's like Schrödinger's cat; both dead and alive. I am going to say he's alive until I'm proven wrong." I tell him, "You should think like that."
"And you really mean it when you're going to name your baby boy after Daryl?" Merle asks me, giving me a thankful smile.
"Always." I say to him, smiling back. I head down the road to the daycare. I meet parents as they bring their children to the daycare. I greet the ones too young to attend school and let them into the daycare. I allow them to begin playing with the toys that lay scattered about from when they last played with them. The children went crazy over the toys. They played with them feverishly. I smile and place my hand over my belly, soon to be swollen with life. I feel someone hold me from behind. I glance back at my husband.
"Hey." He says.
"Hi." I reply, smiling at him sweetly.
"Having fun are we?" He asks me, chuckling at the children.
"We're going to." I reply, smiling. He sighs and pecks my cheek.
"I'll see you soon. Merle needs another checkup." He says. I detect annoyance in his voice.
"You know he's just making sure he's alright, you know that? He cut off his hand for his brother." I scold.
"Yea I know…It's just annoying." He replies. I shake my head at him.
"Would you check up every day if I went missing and you chopped your arm off for me?" I ask him.
"Good point." He says, laughing. He pecks me on the lips and he heads over to the medical ward. I turn around when a kid pulls my dress.
"Tommy stole my toy."He says.
"Did you take it from him?" I ask him as my frustrating day begins.