A/N: I will try not to do these author's notes every chapter I swear. I'm only dishin this chapter out so fast because the first chapter is the introduction to the new character and while this one is still... a little bit more about her, Rick's group finally arrives! So there ya go. I'm surprised this got so many views and some people actually are following it and favorited it... I'm happy with that. Reviews would be nice too, but whatever. Enjoy.
I eventually did work something out with Hershel. That was the name of the elderly gentleman that was kindly holding a gun up to me. He and his family weren't so bad. I was allowed to stay as long as I fended for myself and helped out around the farm. I had plenty of canned food to last maybe another two months so I lived off that while staying in practically a broom closet. I didn't mind though. It was a bed after all. A place to lay my head. It was more comfortable than in the truck where the old cloth was torn up, now reeking with zombie blood, gunshot residue, and other foul smells from my lack of general hygiene this past month.
My first day there they allowed me to finally take a shower. It had been just about a month since the last time I took one. This whole outbreak happened so fast and out of control. Once I stepped into the steaming hot, hot, shower I could have possibly let out a moan that was the equivalent to an orgasm. All the dirt, blood, and grime that had built up, circled in the drain below. It made it seem that this living hell went away as the water became clearer and clearer. But it's not. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change.
As for helping out on the farm it included… not killing the dead. Otis, a big country man that lived in Hershel's house with his wife Patricia, and I were in charge of going out and getting zombies to bring back and shove into the barn that were on the land. Apparently Hershel just thought they were sick and that a cure would be out in a matter of months. Yeah, right. If only. It made me roll my eyes at the thought, but I went along with the plan without question. I didn't want to risk getting kicked out of something that is potentially good for me… unless I get bit by a zombie doing my job. It was usually just Otis doing this job by himself, but he frequently told me it was much easier with my help and thanked me profusely every time we went out. He even didn't really use me that much. I was basically bait for the zombies while Otis followed them along with the help of those animal control poles. Other than the odd job, it wasn't so bad living with them.
Hershel has two daughters that live in the house with him. Beth is the blond love bug of the kid who held a gun up against me whom I found to be named Jimmy. Beth and Jimmy are young each 16 and 17 respectively and are high school students… well were anyways. Hershel's other daughter, whom I get along with quite nicely, was Maggie. She is two years younger than I am and said she was about to go back to college before this whole thing started. Apparently she took a semester off to give herself a break and see her dad and sister a little more before going back. I don't know what brought Maggie and I to be pretty close, if it was our age, or the fact that we both got into trouble when we were younger, mind you Maggie just did a little shoplifting and smoking, but it's nice to have made a friend so fast in this scary new world.
A few days after my arrival, Maggie led me around the farm, showing me around. Bringing me up to the stable, I notice there are two horses and they look very healthy and well taken care of. There were bags of feed everywhere and hay bales in another stall where a horse would have been kept… It just made me think how long all of this would last. How long will this world still have bagged horse feed, canned food, storehouses that haven't been wiped out, and any supplies still left within a fifty mile radius? When would this family have to move on to find new sources of food or supplies? How long would this last? Leading me to where the family kept saddles I also noticed a few guns and a hunting bow. I gasped seeing the bow hanging up on the wall and looking to Maggie wide eyed, who seems nervous at my expression. "Why aren't y'all using that thing?!" I practically shout, walking to the table against the wall, climbing up as old wood groaned while adjusting to my weight, and picking up the compound bow, pulling on it. The draw string was weak by how easily I was able to pull it, but I notice it could be adjusted to add more weight. A giggle. Turning my head to where Maggie stood all I can hear was her giggling at how excited I got seeing the beauty. I began to blush, feeling like I had to explain myself. "My dad was a big bow hunter from France. Not that he was popular or famous or anything, but he grew up around it so when I came along and was the only kid my parents had, my dad taught me how to use one of these."
Maggie only nodded her head giving me a big shit eating grin. If only I could smack that off of her. "Well we'll have to see if dad will let ya keep it. It's not being used by no one here. I don't know why you'd rather use one of those besides a gun though? They aren't fast." She said, her Southern twang in her voice, as she turned on her heel, heading out of the stable. I can only smirk at the new toy I possibly had my hands on, following after the brunette. What she didn't know is that this bow was fast, being able to shoot an arrow at 370 feet per second, silently. Guns were loud. Bows were good for stealth and it led to the possibility of me being able to hunt and get deer quietly. The only thing I had to do was figure out how exactly to hunt… My father never taught me that. Breathe in, aim, breathe out, shoot.
Jogging after Maggie we make it back to the house. Upon entering the kitchen, Beth and Patricia are preparing dinner. Beth smiles a soft smile at me before looking to her sister. "You know it would be great if you helped with cooking once in a while Maggie." Maggie just rolls her eyes while walking with me to the dining room where Hershel was sitting, reading the Bible. I was never a really religious person, but before eating with them we always did say grace and I was even put on the spot with starting one night. I did as good of job that was going to get done I suppose, but I requested that it never happens again. I don't really know what I believe in. All I know is that I want to live. I want to survive. I can only be accountable for that. Praying to some… thing, for help, wasn't going to bring me any.
Hershel looks up from his bible and gives us a small smile. "I see you found that in the stable?" I only nodded my head in response, looking at the bow in my hand. Am I really going to use this thing? Or did I want it to remind me of my dad? "You can keep that if you can hunt with it. It'll be quieter and won't scar any of the deer away." I look up, hearing the old man's voice. My teeth flash into a smile at him and I nod my head before I ascended the stairs to retreat to my room and play around with my new toy.
I got good with the compound bow. Before this shit storm started I would usually lounge around with whoever I was screwing around with and watch Netflix or play on the internet, but since all that is gone I spend a lot more time playing around with the bow. I already knew how to handle one because of my dad and have always been able to shoot it better than a gun, I'm assuming because there isn't a kick to it like guns have, so the only thing I had to worry about was maintaining it, fixing the draw string weight, and seeing if I could shoot it while on the move. Beth suggested that I try shooting it on horseback which wasn't really a bad idea
As far as hunting went along, I really suck at it. I can't track for shit and I always seem to scare off the deer. The Greene's now know that when I go out to hunt, I will be gone for about 3 days because I usually just climb a tree and keep a lookout for any deer that are out there. Otis showed me how to lay out rabbit traps so when I go down to take a piss, it's my time to check those traps out or set up new ones. Now almost two months into the zombie apocalypse I'm sitting in a tree in the woods outside of the farm, waiting for my moment to get a deer. I was about an hour and a half away from the farm this time around and there seemed to be more of the dead in the area than anything. They would groan, snapping their teeth as they walk underneath my tree. During this time I would stay perfectly still and quiet. They couldn't climb or anything, but I didn't want to risk them noticing me and scare off any deer that might pass by. The occasional gunshot in the distance never really bothered me. It just reminded me that Otis was probably out hunting as well and it usually caused the dead to head in that general direction, leaving me a zombie free area so I could drag a deer back to the farm.
Just when I was about to jump down to take a little restroom break I caught sight of a young male buck nibbling on small patches of grass maybe about 100 yards away. I sat up and got into a standing position, next to the trunk of the tree. I had to act quickly if I didn't want to spook him. Drawing an arrow out of my backpack I readied to fire my bow, pulling back on the cable, holding my right thumb against my cheek, taking aim at the poor creature I was about to kill. Calming my breaths I wait for the deer to lift its head to observe the surroundings before I would end his life. As my moment approached, I let out a breath before releasing my hold on the cable, sending the arrow flying and into the animals head as the body dropped to the forest dirt. After that the woods seemed to become even quieter. The woods knew that death was in the air. Fresh death. It was a shame the poor thing had to die, but could have been a worse death for the animal. Its death could have been slow and painful once the walkers would eventually get to it. Jumping down from my perch in the tree, I was still excited. I was going to be going home a day earlier than I originally thought. Making sure my pack was on tight and slinging the bow over my arm I grabbed the young buck by his horns and trudged him all the way back to the house with the two other rabbits I caught slung over my neck.
Stepping out of the woods and back into the clearing close to Hershel's barn I stop, spotting a RV, motorcycle, and a couple new cars by a patch of trees close to the house. Hershel doesn't make new friends this fast. Sure he did with me, surprisingly, but he frequently spoke on how wary he was around other new faces. And new people were obviously on the farm, but the big question was if they were friendly or not. A small handful of them seemed to be standing around outside and I knew none of them, meaning that the Green family was inside, safe, or something much worse. I crouched down in the tall grass, making my way over to the group. I seemed to be getting good at crab walking these days with trying to keep my steps quiet. I still didn't know what I was going to do once I got to them. I needed to figure out what my best course of action was going to be. I had my bow out and ready to draw at any moment. If anything I could kill one of them without making a sound before the rest found out and got in a tizzy about it. I pull back on the cable, drawing the bow back and prepared to strike just as soon as Maggie came out the back door, heading to the group. "Hey dad just wanted me to let y'all know dinner's ready and you should come inside to eat." I heard Maggie say to two women as the rest of the new group looked at her like she was their savior. I let out a long breath, standing up suddenly causing two men to turn and point guns at me while another man to point a crossbow in my direction.
"Who tha hell are you?" The man with a crossbow questioned with a nice Southern drawl. He was a dirty looking man, although that's not too surprising seeing as how I came in pretty much the same condition, in mud covered jeans, and a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had a permanent scowl stuck on his face with a small amount of facial hair and short unkempt brown hair. The only thing this man had going for him was that accent, the arms holding a weapon to my face, and a pair of baby blues you'd think would be on the face of an angel. Not some mean looking redneck. I scowl back at him, keeping my own bow drawn back and pointed in his direction. "I live here ya fuckin redneck. Back off. I should be asking y'all that." I hiss, turning my attention to the other two men holding up guns in my direction. One man had on a sheriff's hat with salt and pepper hair that was cut close to his head and holding up a revolver. He had a pair of kind blue eyes and was wearing a shirt with a sheriff's star. So he was a cop. Sheriff. Whatever. The man looked extremely pale though, like he was sick or lost a lot of blood. The other man next to the sheriff had on a police hat and holding up a shot gun to me which made me more nervous than the other two. The exit wounds from those were much gorier than a bolt and revolver shot and much harder to treat.
"Put your weapons down right now." I heard Maggie scold walking forward to me, glaring at the men. I quirk a brow again, this time at her and she looked at me apologetically. "Nice fuckin welcome back Maggie." I said, releasing the cable of my bow back and throwing it over my shoulder, motioning for her to follow me back to the wood so she can help me grab the deer and rabbits I had abandoned. "Well we weren't expecting ya back a day early." She joked helping me pick up the deer and bring it back towards the house as the same men eyed us carefully. As Maggie and I carried the young buck between the three men, the sheriff came forward offering to help, which Maggie told to back off because he was weak. "Y'all got names?" I ask, while huffing as I attempt not to drop the buck. Dragging a 150 pound buck for almost three hours and then crab walking through almost an acre of tall grass was wearing down on me. The guy with a shot gun handed the sheriff his gun before coming to help out, taking Maggie's end. Fucking asshat. "Rick's the sheriff. My name's Shane." He introduced attempting to flash a charming smile. So he went to Maggie's side so he could stare at me and flirt. Douchebag. I rolled my eyes at the grin and turned my head to the redneck who slung his crossbow over his shoulder before walking over to take my end. "Daryl." He mumbled as I strained to hear his gruff voice. As he stood next to me to grab the bucks' horns, I had to look up a little to meet his gaze. Blue topaz meeting green emerald. Woah. Turning my head away I mumbled a small thank you and walked to Maggie. "Thanks for the help boys. Just take the deer to that shed over there to the left of the." Maggie said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders while I could sigh, and rub my face. "Yeah, thanks… We'll get Otis to clean it later." I said, looking tiredly up at Maggie with a smile. She gave me a frown which only made me raise a brow in confusion. "Otis ain't around anymore." She informed me, making my eyes go wide. As Daryl and Shane set the deer in the small shed, Shane came back out, placing his hands on his hips. "He went with me on a run for medical supplies and sacrificed himself to let me get back here with supplies in hand." My brow furrowed as I crossed my arms under my chest, biting my upper lip. "Why do we need medical supplies?" I ask, turning my attention to Maggie who only looked to Rick as the sheriff cast his blue gaze downward. "My son's hurt real bad."