Glenn sat at end of Carol's bed coughing. They'd both been ordered to rest but Glenn confessed he did not want to be alone just yet.
"I can't believe we're gonna go out from a common cold," he joked, followed by a violent coughing fit.
"If it is just a cold, antibiotics won't help." Carol advised, holding a wicker basket under her friend's chin and rubbing his back. "I think you should go lie down in that cell across from here. We can still see each other, but resting might help."
Glenn nodded, but winced due to the pain in his neck. "I sure hope Maggie isn't infected."
"Maggie is so strong, I doubt a bug would even try to take her on! Carol replied, feeling the edges of her vision rippling and she felt dizzy although she was seated.
"I thought Daryl was gonna cry when you said you weren't feeling well." Glenn nudged her with his elbow, "If he's out on that run looking for medicine, I'd hate to be out there with him. He tends to get grouchy at the best of times, he'd be unbearable on a run and worried."
Carol made to reply but the main doors burst open and Rick burst in carrying an unconscious Beth in his arms. "Help!" he shouted. Carol could hear Caleb coughing and moving around upstairs so she jumped up.
"Rick!" she called, "lay her in here." She ran to the cell next to hers as Hershel arrived, "What happened?"
Rick rubbed his beard, his eyes wild after laying Beth down gently. "I took Judith from her, we've moved all the vulnerable people in the administration building. Anyway, she said she felt funny. I put a hand to her head and she just fell. Starting having a fit."
He looked at Hershel who was bent over Beth, his stethoscope listening to her chest. "Hershel. You shouldn't be in here."
"Neither should you," the old man replied. "And this is my baby girl. Ain't nowhere else I'm gonna be. Think the temperature she has affected her brain, which caused the fit. I may need to intubate her. Rick, you get back out there. I'll stay here. Caleb doesn't sound so good."
"He's getting worse," Carol ventured, her throat hurt to speak and she swayed slightly, the room span on its axis and she felt intoxicated.
Hershel surveyed her. "You go lie down too. I'll hold the fort here."
Rick got hold of her arm, steered her into her room and onto her bed. "Sleep," he ordered, lifting her legs up on to the bed.
She tried to speak to thank him, but she was dragged under to sleep in a few seconds.
A bird chirping was the first sound Carol heard. She realised she had her eyes closed and was lying in a very soft, roomy bed.
She opened her eyes. It felt weird. Her mind scrabbled; there was something she needed to remember or do, but it eluded her like a whisper on the breeze. Looking around, she realised she was in her house.
The one she shared with Ed and Sophia in Atlanta. In her own bed in her bedroom, everything as it should be. Or was it? That odd feeling settled like a rock in her stomach. She lay completely still, raking her brain for a clue as to whatever it was she was supposed to remember.
A ghost of a thought flittered across her consciousness and she saw a flash of an image of a pick-axe. Was she meant to go buy one of those?
Suddenly, Ed entered the room. She sat up slightly in surprise. Why was she shocked to see him here?
He was putting on a tie which matched his suit ready for work at the bank. The suit was white. Did Ed even own a white suit? He usually opted for charcoal or black attire for work.
He looked as he always did otherwise, tall, overweight, face like a Neanderthal. She had the urge to laugh.
What had she ever seen in him all those years ago? Why did she suddenly feel so confident and unafraid of him? He beat and abused her, had done for years, and she had always believed his assertions that she deserved it, too scared to breathe sometimes.
Until today. She glanced at the digital clock on her beside cabinet; 7:05am, Tuesday, June 1st. Really? She felt a chill as though winter were approaching.
Ed regarded her, "Why you shivering woman?"
Carol shrugged, overcome by a sudden all encompassing hatred of him which burned in her heart and threatened to spew forth from her mouth.
"Now you listen here," he said pointing at her with one meaty hand while smoothing his white tie with the other. "Those two rednecks I met in Rusty's Saturday night are coming over to work on the gardens and other stuff. Do not speak to 'em or bother 'em. Keep on eye on 'em though, the older one looked like he'd sell his granny for a gram of meth." He glared at her menacingly.
Ed hated spending money, but he hated having to do any work on the house so he often hired odd job men to do the dirty work.
"Rednecks?" she asked, something about this felt like she'd stumbled into an episode of The X Files.
"You heard me first time," he raised his voice, eyes blazing. "Don't talk to 'em and keep the girl away from them. Can't be too careful."
Carol almost laughed at the irony. She'd put money on the fact that both Sophia and herself would be safer with these two strangers than the man before her. "Sophia is here?" she blurted out, unable to help herself.
Why had she asked that? Was she losing her mind?
Ed flew across the room. Any other husband would probably do so to kiss his wife before work but she knew what was coming.
His fist landed on her mouth, her lip split and she tasted blood. That was a shock, he usually avoided her face.. He grabbed her neck under her chin and brought his face so close to hers, she felt his spittle on her cheek.
"Are you being deliberately fucking dumb? Don't answer that, we both know you are a fucking stupid, frigid bitch. Where the fuck else would the kid be? You made her such a mouse, she doesn't leave your fucking side." He released her and she rubbed her neck. "Pathetic," he spat, pulling on his white shoes. Her blood dropped from her lip onto the bedspread and she made no move to stop it.
She fought back the urge to reach for her knuckle knife and stab him in the soft part of his temple. That was an odd thought, she didn't even own a knuckle knife, did she? Why stab him in the temple?
"You fuck this day up with those two hicks workin' around here, you'll live to regret it." He warned from the bedroom doorway, "Now get your lazy ass up out of bed. A good wife would've had breakfast on the table ready for her husband going out to work, seein' as he has to keep her in the style she's accustomed to. But you ain't ever grateful. Don't know what I've done to deserve this shit. All I do is work my fingers to the bone and I can't even get breakfast. And any time I want a bit of appreciation in the sack, I'm treated like I'm asking something ungodly. A man can fuck his wife any time he pleases. Remember that."
Carol repressed a sigh, biting down on her injured lip in a bid to stem the blood flow.
What a boring sanctimonious bastard. "I sure am grateful," she said but the words sounded insincere even to her own ears, "I'm sorry. I'll do better." She added lamely.
Ed rolled his eyes. "Those guys will be here around nine but they'll probably be late, pair of good for nothin's if ever I saw 'em." With that he stormed down stairs and she heard him grab his keys.
The front door slammed. Praise the Lord he was gone. She was free but also felt as though she didn't need to worry about his return later that day. He no longer terrified her but she had no idea why.
By nine am, Sophia had finished breakfast and was playing in her room. She too was wearing white; a summer dress complete with white sandals.
Carol had cleared away the breakfast dishes and tidied up. She opened the kitchen window to let in some air and caught the waft of a smell which stopped her in her tracks. It smelled sweet, but cloyingly so, like spoiled meat and it caused her thoughts to swirl.
The feeling that she'd slipped into an alternative universe returned, what was going on? She shook her head to clear it and headed upstairs.
She did begrudgingly admit that their split level house was the type she'd dreamed of living when a little girl. Now, she knew she'd rather live in a trailer with Sophia and scrape by, than in the grandest house in the world with a sadistic bully.
Once in their bedroom, she opened her closet to get dressed. It was filled with cargo pants, skinny jeans, utility boots, tops and vests as well as dresses she couldn't imagine Ed would let her wear.
There was nothing white to be found, every shirt she held up was a colour she shouldn't wear. Finally, she settled on indigo jeans (which did cling to her curves more than her husband would like) and a top which although had a collar, was a thin stretchy material and it's pale pink colour was partially see through. It also clung to her like a second skin and the buttons on it started so far down the front that it exposed more of her chest and cleavage than was safe, but it was long sleeved so it would hide the bruises on her arms. She had no choice; she had to wear something, those men would arrive shortly and her cheap, shapeless, baggy 'mom' clothes were nowhere to be seen. She'd have to risk a beating, she'd explain to Ed somehow about her wardrobe. Not that he'd believe her. He'd just be thrilled at an excuse to abuse her. Sitting down at her vanity, she noticed her hair had grown. There were gentle curls and she was able to fuss it around so that it spiked up in a somewhat funky style. She missed her long dark curly hair. Now, she was not permitted to have it styled at a salon, nor should she really be eyeing the makeup on her dresser. Where had that come from?
The makeup had been banished long before her hair, she clearly remembered six winters ago, Ed holding her by the arm as he forced her to throw all of her makeup in the roaring fireplace.
Now here was a palette of blush, one of eyeshadow, mascara, lip glosses and brushes. She looked at her reflection. Screw it. If she was going to be punished for the clothes, she may as well do her face up too and go the whole hog. Ten minutes later, she'd applied blush and a subtle golden sheen to her eyelids which strengthened the blue intensity of her eyes. After applying mascara, she dabbed on the lipgloss around her swollen mouth and the doorbell sounded.
Opening the door found the two rough and ready specimens Ed had recruited over several beers at the weekend. First impressions were as Ed described them. The older one stood leaning against the doorframe, a cigarette nestled behind one ear, a leer on his face. The other one was younger by about ten years, but was more handsome with a less roguish air to him. She noticed the look the older man exchanged with his brother.
"Hey," the older one took charge, standing away from the door frame. "Your old man asked us to come do some jobs." His eyes crawled up and down her body before a grin broke out on his face. He must have noticed her injured lip but made no comment.
To most people, he'd be intimidating with his crew cut, prison tattoos and general air of aggravation. Carol had lived through a lot of pain and frightening experiences with a man who looked and acted like a pillar of the community.
She stuck out her hand and fixed her most dazzling smile on her face although it hurt. "Hi, I'm Carol. Ed did say you were coming by. You are?"
"Merle Dixon," he replied, his own grin still in place, grabbing hold of her hand and giving it a strong shake. He looked down and saw the bruises around her wrist. His face dropped very slightly.
Something pinged in her head. She became aware of his companion staring at the wrist and then her with intensity. Merle leaned over to the other man and whispered something, while releasing her hand.
"Have we met before?" she asked.
"No ma'am. Don't think so. I'd sure remember meetin' you." His eyes roamed her body again.
The younger man stepped forward, "I'm Daryl Dixon," he offered his hand and looked her straight in the eye. He was staring at her mouth and she bit her lip to hide the cut as she had a vision of stepping forward and kissing him with abandon.
"Brothers," she remarked. "And, please, don't call me ma'am. Makes me feel older than I am." She kept her voice light but her head was spinning.
Daryl took her hand and she felt such a shock of electricity it took her breath away. He leaned forward and gently kissed her bruised forearm. Confusion set in, words failed her.
"You ok?" he asked and there was a suddenly blast of ice hot white light.
Her reply came automaticall, "Gotta be..." She realised that she was blinded by the brightness and…..everything... stopped.
The light faded as did the high pitched whistling in her ear. For several seconds, she felt as though she was listening to a conversation whilst under water. She had a headache of such ferocity that it made her feel sick.
Carol realised she was sitting on some grass. It was a summer's day. There was a set of rocks arranged in a circle as though a fire had burned there.
Above that was items related to cooking over a fire al fresco. Looking at her surroundings, she was at Hershel's farm. How did she now know this? She was back at the farm, sitting outside the RV, and there were other people with her.
Dale was atop the mobile home, binoculars in hand, rifle on his shoulder. She studied him, he looked as he usually did, but there was something…off. She sighed. Had she taken something that induced acid trips?
A giggle emerged opposite her and it came from Lori. "Lori," she whispered. Her friend looked happy, she was glowing, in fact, sitting on Shane's lap as he whispered in her ear. He sat on a camping chair, his semi-automatic leaning against it.
Shane? Carol hadn't seen him in a long while. He had his hand on Lori's thigh as they canoodled like teenagers. To Shane's left and Carol's right was Andrea. The blonde woman sat cross legged on the floor, a cloth spread out on the grass, cleaning her gun.
Carol's headache pounded as she tried to fit the pieces of her puzzle in place, the pressure increasing each time she got within grasping it.
She suddenly noticed that Sophia, her baby, was there, she was sitting on a swing made from rope attached to a high tree branch with a wooden plank for a seat.
The girl squeaked with laughter as the swung back and forth, the branch above her creaking. She held her breath. Why did this all feel so strange?
An elbow nudged her left side. Turning, she noticed Glenn. Relief flooded her body, "Glenn," she said, feeling close to tears. "What the hell is going on?"
Her friend grimaced, "I literally have no idea. I was at home, getting ready for my shift at the pizza joint and suddenly, I'm sitting here, with you. Have you noticed what's weird?"
"I know something isn't right," she massaged her temples and forehead to try to ease the throbbing there. "I was back home in Atlanta, Ed was there and these two men came to…"
Glenn cut her off, "Look at what everybody is wearing, Carol. Look at what we're wearing."
She looked around. Everyone around the unlit campfire was dressed head to foot in gleaming white.
Glenn was wearing a white t-shirt, white cargo pants and even had a white baseball cap on his head. Looking down, she realised she wore a long, plain white sun dress. "What the..?" she started but Shane cut her off.
"So, you two," he motioned to Carol and Glenn. "What took you so long gettin' here man?"
Glenn and Carol exchanged an uneasy look, "Oh, you know, better late than never," Glenn replied, looking as confused as Carol felt.
Carol spoke, "You know, I'm a little confused. I'm not sure if I've had a bump to the head, but I have a feeling we moved on from this farm. So, what happened, why are we back here?"
Lori looked to Shane, "Some of us left the farm, but some of us never got here in the first place." She motioned with her head to the swing Sophia sat on and Carol noticed Andrea's sister, Amy was pushing her child back and forth while the girl squealed in delight.
T-Dog appeared at the door of the RV. "I thought I heard new voices," he said, his white outfit shining in the sun. Carol felt a smile at her lips at the sight of the man who had selflessly saved her back at the prison.
Shane smiled, "I was so happy when Lori got back here, it's so peaceful and we don't have to be scared of making the wrong choices."
"Are you happy here, Lori? Andrea?" Carol asked. She had a very uncomfortable feeling about this place, it made no sense.
Lori threw her head back, "Oh yes. There is no pain, no worry, we all live freely in peace."
"I wasn't sure at first," Andrea admitted, looking up from her task, "But I saw Amy was here and the others. You get used to it. You guys must be tired, so very tired. Wouldn't you like to just kick back and relax?"
Glenn gave a quick smile, "I think I just need a quick word with Carol about something. One sec," he motioned with his head and they both got up and separated themselves from the group.
Don't be too long, man!" Shane shouted. Glenn and Carol walked away from the group through the long grass.
Glenn kept his eyes fixed on the others. "I think maybe we should stay."
"What?!" Carol hissed, she stepped back and suddenly her mind cleared, a realisation hit her and the pressure from her brain eased. "Glenn, you do know that all of these people are dead?! We're having some sort of light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel moment. It's weird as shit."
Dale shouted from the roof of the RV. "Got another one at three o'clock, over by the house."
Carol and Glenn strained to look over in that direction, expecting to see a Walker. Instead, it was Beth. She was running through the grass, over to the group, smiling and waving.
"Oh no, not Beth too!" Carol groaned, seeing the girl was also dressed in white.
The group all stood and embraced the youngest Greene daughter while Glenn and Carol hung back.
"If you want to stay, I can't stop you Glenn, but this place is some kind of afterlife. Can you really leave Maggie behind?"
Glenn sighed, "I am just so tired," he kicked the ground with his perfect white sneakers. "Imagine not having to worry about anybody anymore, or about fences giving way, runs going bad, fights, herds, other groups or whether a common cold is going to wipe out everyone you know. Maybe it'd be nice to chill here and float around, no threats. Beth looks happy."
Beth was hugging Lori and T-Dog was handing her a six string guitar much to her delight. A middle aged woman appeared from the rear of the RV, and from Beth's reaction, Carol guessed it was the girl's mother.
"I am tired too," Carol admitted sadly. "And as much as I miss and love my Sophia, I promised myself I'd always fight for as long as I could. Staying here feels like giving up, Glenn. Maggie will be inconsolable and who knows how long it'll be before she gets here."
To the West of the group, across another field where there was a dirt track, came a noise. A motorcycle. Carol and Glenn looked at each other and the others became still as they noticed it too.
"What is that?" asked Carol.
"Just ignore it," soothed Andrea. "Look, come sit with us. Beth is going to sing." The group all resumed their original positions, with Beth seated on the steps of the RV.
"Glenn!" a shout came from the same direction as the motorcycle.
Carol pulled at Glenn's arm, "That's Maggie. You can't leave her!" Glenn looked towards the West and then back to the group.
"Carol! Glenn!" came another raised voice. Rick.
Shane looked between them both, "You go back there, it's a world of pain for you! You know it's suffering and fighting and fatigue and hunger! You want that? Then go! But don't say we didn't try to get you to stay. You guys are crazy if you walk away."
Glenn spoke, "Beth?"
The girl shook her head, "I ain't strong enough for that life. Not really. I tried, I was scared comin' here but it feels right. It feels good." She smiled.
"Beth, what about your Daddy?" Carol tried to plead with young woman with her eyes.
Beth smiled wider, "He'll be fine. He has all of you there. You're all family."
A tear ran down Carol's face.
"Carol!" came the urgent cry of the man on the motorcycle. "Carol!"
Andrea gave a sarcastic laugh, "There he is. Right on cue to claim his woman," she looked pointedly at Carol and turned away.
The cries from the West continued to grow louder and Sophia jumped down from the swing, running up to Carol, her doll clutched in one hand.
She threw herself at her mother. "I'm happy here, Mama," she said in her sweet, gentle voice, "Nothing can hurt me here. It's safe, there are no monsters or bad things. It's not time for you to be here yet. I can tell. The others just want all of us to be together."
Carol crouched down and cried, tears flowing, "My beautiful girl. I'm so sorry I can't stay. Part of me wants to. A big part. But I promised myself, I'd fight it all until the end. That I'd make you proud."
Sophia wrapped her delicate arms around her mother's neck. "I already am, Mama," she whispered and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I want you to happy. Really happy. I'll be watching."
"I love you, my sweet baby, never forget, that I am always proud of you," Carol whispered, kissing her daughter's head. She stood and wiped at her face.
The pain in her head had faded to almost nothing.
A darkness appeared on the horizon from the direction of the bike and the shouting.
"How do we get back?" Glenn asked.
Dale shouted down to them, "Walk back towards the dark, of course." He smiled a sad smile and tipped his sun hat at them.
Carol grabbed Glenn's hand and they turned to face the West.
"You're sure you want to come back?" she asked him.
"Sure," he confirmed. "I could never leave the love of my life behind."
As they headed towards the noise and darkness, they looked back, only to find the campsite scene fading out.
The closer they walked back to where they wanted to be, the colder it got. A wind swirled around them along with their loved ones in the prison calling to them. A flash of lightning and a rush of coldness swept over them and then…nothing again.