AN: REVISED

3: Southern Hospitality

On my way to the kitchen I grabbed a towel, a razor, and a new bar of soap from the hallway closet that was stockpiled with various toiletries.

"You can go wash up in the stream while I cook if you'd like." I turned and handed him the pile. "I think I have some clean men's clothes around here somewhere, too. I'll set them out for you for when you get back." I expected him to say something, but he just nodded and went outside. He seemed kind of eager to take a look around. I didn't know how I felt about that. Wary, I ran upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms I have filled with various items and fished out a shirt and some sweatpants for my new guest. I had a guest. An actual guest. Someone who was alive. Someone who wasn't trying to eat my guts. It was nearly enough to ease my suspicions, but I couldn't. On my way back downstairs I couldn't help but glance through the window toward the stream.

"Now Annie, don't be creepy to the first person you've talked to in over a year," I quietly muttered to myself before I could see anything. I placed the clothes on the table and began to work on dinner, keeping the gun on the counter, and the bat beside it. Beans, and salad. The usual nightly meal, but the beans rotated with other canned goods. Normally on my human days I would grab some of the dried pasta and canned tomato sauce, but I didn't want to waste it on this unknown man. Daryl, if that was even his real name. There was a ritual that I wasn't going to neglect tonight, though. I opened a cupboard and reached to the far back, pulling out a bottle of red wine. It was a Syrah, and when I snatched it the price tag said it was expensive. Besides, I had a guest. There was another living person in the world. Tonight I wasn't alone. If I couldn't celebrate that, then what else was left?

I had only just finished putting everything on the table when I heard the door close. I grabbed my gun and called out, "Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" It might have been the year in isolation, or the fact that I had only seen a few shirtless men in my life that weren't related to me, but the fact stood that Daryl cleaned up very well, or at least I had grown significantly lonely to the point that any man looked wonderful. He held up the dirty clothes in one hand, "Where do I put these?"

I set down the bat and reached for them. "I'll take them. I can clean them for you tomorrow if you want." I took the razor and soap as well. "The clothes are right there." I nodded towards the table and went to set the clothes in the laundry room. If there was one thing I wish still worked it was the washing machine, but unfortunately I couldn't figure out how to make the water work in this otherwise perfect sanctuary. When I got back into the kitchen he was fully clothed and just standing there. He seemed so tense, like he was waiting for something bad to happen. Maybe he thought I was going to kill him, or that I wasn't alone out here like I'd said? At least we could agree on one thing; we didn't trust each other at all. I shrugged as I walked past him and sat down, pouring myself a large glass of the wine, "You gonna just stand there all night and let your food get cold?" I poured him a glass as well. He sat down cautiously. "Before I forget," I took a long sip during my pause, "Thank you for not killing me."

"I guess I should say the same to you." He ate a bite, then another. We sat and ate in silence. Once I finished, and by finished I mean licked my plate clean, I got up and set my plate on the counter. "How come you have fresh food?"

I pointed outside. "I planted the stuff." I turned around and faced him, "Half of my days I spend working to make that food possible." I pointed at the plate.

"Is that what you did before this? Garden?"

"No way. Before this, I wouldn't know a spade from a trowel," I laughed. "I was a pre-med student in Louisiana."

"Like a doctor?"

"I could have been." Silence fell once more. "I should get back up on watch, that bike of yours is sure to draw some today. Feel free to check the place out, just don't go stealing my stuff and don't use any electricity."

"Electricity?"

"That's right." I left the room and headed back to my post up top. I scanned for a few minutes before I saw them. Three walkers making their way towards the fence on the east side. I went back inside and grabbed my bow and quiver full of arrows. Normally, if there was just one, I'd take the bat, but today the bat would have been too dangerous. I didn't take chances with deadites. There would have been too much of a chance that they would bite me, especially if there were three of them. A gun would have only drawn more of them with the noise. I almost never used the guns, except when I went into town, and even then they were mainly just for show. Guns are only for when I'm in a real pinch. They are a last resort. The bow was quiet though, and I wasn't too horrible of a shot. I slid on some shoes and a thick coat to protect myself from possible scratches. When I got outside Daryl was on the porch.

"Where you going?" He eyed my bow.

"Some zombies need killing." I began to cross the field. "You can come if you want." He ran inside and when he joined me he had a crossbow. "Nice choice," I said, nodding to the bow, "You any good with that thing?"

He snapped back at me, "You any good with yours?" I didn't mean to offend him, but I couldn't seem to control my words for the life of me.

"Why don't you tell me?" I unlocked the gate to let us through, then locked one of the padlocks behind us. I readied an arrow as we approached and he did the same. Release, and one falls. The click of the crossbow lead to another fallen corpse. Before he could reload I had already sent the next arrow straight into the last walkers leg. I reloaded and loosed another, and this time it hit. Two shots out of three isn't so bad. In seconds it was all over. No fuss, no muss. I walked up and grabbed one of the dead man's arms, "Help me, if you'd please."

"Help you what?"

"I line them up around the perimeter. I figure the smell might prevent others from showing up."

"It doesn't."

I glared at him and spoke as friendly as I could, "Humor me." He looked at me as I started dragging the body, and something must have gave because a couple seconds later he was helping me. Once they were lined up, I pulled out my arrows. "The stream's just a minute this way, we can clean off the arrows there." I walked and he followed. "So how was my shooting?" I looked at him and smiled.

He shrugged in a non-committal way, "Quick. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"In PE. I am not really one for team sports, and running was too boring, so archery it was. I'm not great, by any means, but I'm fast at least." We passed another fallen walker. "How about you?"

"I hunt."

We reached the river, and I wiped off the arrows before placing them back in the quiver and rinsing my hands. I looked over to him. "That must be useful to your group."

He shrugged once more and we began walking back. "What happened to your group?"

I let out a soft laugh, "Never had one. I guess I never really came across anyone who was alive and not freaking out. I figured I could last longer by myself, with an even head, than if I tried to save one of those idiots." We passed the old body again. "Besides, most people annoy me."

"That's fair."

"So tell me about your group."

"Why?"

"Humor me," I repeated.

"Well, we've thinned out a bit, but there's me and Carol. Then there's Rick, Lori, and their kid Carl. Maggie and a little Asian fella named Glenn. Maggie's dad and sister; Hershel and Beth. And then there's T-Dog."

All I could think was that ten was a lot of people. Ten was too many. Solo artists, like myself, probably stood the best chance. Then maybe couples, and small groups of five or six. But ten? "That's thinned out?" I laughed and unlocked the gate, locking it back up after we'd returned to safety. "And you're all looking for a place to settle? That'll be tough."

"Got a week before we all meet back up."

"It was a bad idea to split up in the first place." I opened the door, walked to the kitchen, and put the dirty dishes on a tray. "Well, make yourself at home. I need to do the dishes." I stepped out before remembering the other thing I needed to tell him, "And the bathroom is in the corner of the field by the compost heap if you need it, can't miss it."

-o0o-

I poured the rest of the wine into my glass, "Since you are the guest you can pick what you want to watch." I motioned to the shelves of DVDs I stole from the market in town. He happily stepped over and began to browse, or at least I figured he was happy. "I'll be right back." I went upstairs to my room and changed into some old yoga shorts and a tank top: my usual nighttime attire. When I got back he had already started to watch something and was lying on the couch. I just grabbed my textbook and began reading in the armchair, occasionally sipping from my glass. This time the bat was my guardian, if it became necessary, resting itself across my lap.

"Why are you reading?"

"Textbook," I said in a monotonous tone before I looked up. It was beyond strange to have anyone with me in this house, let alone a man. The thing is, I have had exactly two boyfriends in my entire life: the first was during my junior year in high school and the second was my first year of college. I was neither inexperienced nor skilled with men, but something about Daryl was just different. So different that, in that moment, looking over at him I completely forgot the dooms that resided outside the fence. I forgot that he might be playing me, and could kill me at any moment. Instead I found my mind utterly transfixed on the handsome man on my couch. Chalk it up to severe cabin fever. "Most of the ones I have are about medicine, I figured it might come in handy now. If I get hurt, I need to know how to fix it."

"Can I see?"

I nodded and held the book up to face him. He rolled off the couch and walked over, staring at the page for a second with glazed eyes as he spoke, "And you understand this stuff?"

I laughed, "Most of it, yeah. I've had a lot of time to figure it all out."

"Still don't believe you got here all the way from Louisiana alone."

I smiled softly, trying to not think too much about how I'd gotten to Georgia. "Running was the easy part." I placed the bookmark in and closed the pages with a creak. I swallowed the rest of my glass. "I think I better go to bed. I'm pretty sure it's late." I turned off the reading lamp and made my way to the stairs.

"Am I sleeping on the couch?"

I nodded towards the upstairs. "There are bedrooms up here you can use, most of them are full of supplies, but I think you can still see a bed in one of them." He turned off the TV and grabbed his crossbow and bag. It felt strange to have someone else in the house with me, especially at night, when I was about to sleep. "This here is my room." I opened the door a bit. "I keep the door locked at night, but I'm a light sleeper so if you need me for anything you can just knock." I motioned towards the other doors. "You can take your pick, the people who owned this place really splurged on the beds, memory foam. So hopefully that works out for you. And like I said before… don't steal my stuff, or you won't live to regret it." He opened the door to the room adjacent to mine.

"Thanks." The was a snag of sarcasm in his tone, but, having just mildly threatened him, I disregarded it.

"You're welcome." I smiled at him. "Goodnight."