The morning of the run, everyone was busy. I helped Glenn get ready, packing whatever he told me they needed into the boot of the cars.
When Glenn left to get some of his things together, I remembered the other day when Merle said he had offered to help the group by going on the run for the group. For some reason, I decided to see if he was still going. I'm not sure why. If there was a therapist around I would take it up with them, but all I can do is show how stupid I really am.
Merle was at his camp, kneeling over the back end of his bike, digging through the little black satchel that hung over the back wheel.
"You going on the run today?" I asked.
I was still a little weary of talking to him, but he was nice enough the other day. The only difference was that now I knew that if he started shouting and yelling he was probably high, at least that's what Daryl told me.
Merle turned around. He was holding what I guessed to be a rifle in his hands, one that I had never seen before and was now terrified that he owned.
Again, I spoke cautiously. "It's not like you to help out."
"I was feelin' charitable," he didn't sound angry, so I assumed it would be okay to talk to him.
"I know," I said. "That's the weird part."
Mere scoffed. When he was unable to find what he was looking for in the satchel he turned, shoving the rifle into my arms. "Hol' that."
I held the gun, not that I had a choice in the matter. Frowning, I looked down at the weapon in my arms, still unsure of why they had to kill the sick people. I knew that sometimes they had to kill them in self-defence, the sick were relentless and dangerous, but it was never really something I had to do.
Merle turned back to the bike, rummaging through the black satchel again. He pulled out some small shiny objects, that I assumed to be the bullets for the rifle I was awkwardly holding in my arms. He looked at me, grabbing the gun with one hand.
His eyes lingered on my face for a second, before he said, "Ya should prob'ly get outta the sun, girly."
I reached up to touch my face, feeling how hot my skin was. The moment Shane said we would be camping, I knew I'd be sunburnt. It always happened, and even though it was probably extremely unhealthy, I brushed it off.
"I'm fine."
Merle only shrugged, the gun bouncing around in his hand as his wrist shook.
I glanced around. "Where's Daryl?"
Merle also glanced around, and it had taken him a moment to remember where his own brother was gone. "Said he spotted some deer tracks, headed out to see if he could follow the trail."
I couldn't argue with that. Knowing nothing about hunting or how hard it was to follow trails, I just nodded along to Merle's explanation.
"Okay . . ."
It wasn't long before I realised the error of my ways. Merle's chatty phase from the other day seemed to be over, and it was once again very awkward to talk to him. Daryl said he knew about my garage—my dad's garage—and I wondered if Merle had also been there, but I had no way of bringing it up to him.
I saw Glenn across the camp walking over to the cars with his bag.
"I should go help Glenn," I said, walking backwards away from his camp for a second. "See you!"
When the cars were ready, I stood amongst the crowing people, watching as they hugged their families and wished luck to the group of people who volunteered for the run to Atlanta. Glenn gave me a smile from the passenger seats of one of the cars that was being used to guide the group to the city.
Merle sauntered past the small group, muttering to himself as he packed the rifle away and climbed into the back seat of the first vehicle that Morales was driving. I noticed that Glenn looked unhappy when he chose that vehicle, but kept his complaints to himself.
I noticed that Shane handed T-Dog the walkie I helped modify, and T-Dog was the last person to climb into the car to leave for Atlanta.
Amy took a few steps forward as the cars drove off down the dirt road. She had the exact same look on her face that she did when Andrea suggested going on the run in the first place. I knew all too well what she was going through.
I hung around for a moment, trying to think of something to say. "She'll be okay. She has the group to look out for her."
"Yeah, I know," she agreed quietly.
She didn't say anything after that, and started walking to the motorhome to go and sit inside. I couldn't blame her though.
I ended up sitting in the middle of camp with Lori and Dale. Lori was trying to teach Carl something while talking to Dale. I knew they were talking about something, but I couldn't keep focus on the conversation. The longer I sat there, the more faint their voices sounded. My head started pounding, I could feel the pulsating in my temples. I knew that I should probably try and move, but I couldn't get myself to move a muscle.
It was like I was trapped.
Lori's voice dragged me back to reality. "Ace, Hun? Are you okay?"
Shaking my head, I sat up in my chair. I felt achy and tired, and the migraine just kept getting worse.
"You look all red," Lori stood up and moved to the chair next to me, placing the back of her hand against my forehead.
"It's probably heat exhaustion," Dale pointed out.
I knew Dale was right. It happened a lot when I moved to America. My dad even said that I fainted once in the playground when we first moved here. After that, I was generally careful about staying out in the sun, but seeing as I hadn't left the country in like two years, I assumed that my body would be able to handle the climate.
Apparently, I was wrong.
I didn't notice that Carl was standing in front of me until he spoke. "Mom, is Ace okay?"
"She's fine, sweetheart. Just go and sit down for a second, okay?"
Dale was next to speak. "We should get her out of the sun before it gets any worse."
"Can she sit in the RV for a little while?" Lori questioned.
"Of course."
"Come on, hun," Lori grabbed my hand to help me stand up from the chair. "You should get out of the sun."
I nodded, standing up with the help of Lori. "Okay."
When I was standing, my head pulsated and I had to close my eyes to get rid of the pain. Lori stood next to me, until she realised I wasn't going to fall over, and left me to walk to the motor home by myself.
After almost thirty minutes of sitting by myself in the motor home, the stairs creaked as someone came inside. I glanced over and saw Shane, holding a blue plastic bottle in his hand.
"Hey, kiddo," Shane said, entering the motor home. "How are you feeling?"
I couldn't think of a good answer. "I told you camping sucked."
He chuckled and shook his head. He sat down opposite me at the table.
"Here," he placed a bottle on the table. "I brought you some water."
I smiled. "Thanks."
"You look a little sunburnt, it's not painful is it?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
Not yet. I knew it would be painful in a day or two. I had tried avoiding getting sunburnt, but the camp had no shaded areas and there was only so long I could wear a thick hoodie before I actually started to melt.
"Okay, well I'll leave you alone now," Shane tapped the table and stood up, "why don't you go lay down in bed? Dale wouldn't mind. You look like you need some rest anyway."
"Yeah, maybe."
"See you soon, kid."
I could only bring myself to smile as he left, before grabbing the bottle of water and downing a few gulps. The bottle was cold in my hands, so I screwed the cap on and held the cool plastic against my forehead.
After a minute or so, I placed the bottle on the table and looked down at my arms. They were a little red. I lifted the sleeve of my tee, and there was a white line where the shirt began. My fingernail scratched against the sunburn as I pulled my sleeve back down, and I winced at the stinging pain that rushed through my arm.
The migraine wouldn't go away, and after a few more minutes of sitting at the table in complete agony, I caved and decided to lay down in the bed. It was only a span of seconds before my eyes closed and I was asleep.
When I woke up, my headache was gone. I breathed out a sigh of relief and pulled myself into a sitting position. My muscles were still a little achy but felt so much better than I did before.
I didn't know how long I had been sleeping, but the sun was still up. I had guessed that I was out for an hour or two.
Standing up, I grabbed the water bottle Shane gave me, before exiting the motorhome. I looked around for the cars that were sent on the run, but they weren't there. The group still wasn't back yet.
It was cloudy outside now, which relieved me a little. I didn't want to stay inside the motor home any longer than necessary, and the clouds would give enough shade for me to sit outside for a little.
I stepped outside and noticed that Carl was sitting next to the stairs, rolling a plastic truck along the dirt. He looked up when he heard me and smiled.
"Are you okay now? Mom said you might have a heat stroke."
I shook my head. "I'm okay now."
Carl nodded and moved over a little so I could sit next to him. I sat beside him, joining him on the ground next to the motor home.
"Where is everyone?" I questioned.
Carl shrugged. "I dunno."
I nodded but didn't say anything.
"Some guy was on the CB earlier, but he couldn't hear us," Carl stated, glancing up at me.
"How come?"
"I don't know, Shane tried talking to him but he said they lost him," he clarified. "They put the CB up on top of the RV now."
The thought of someone talking on the CB surprised me. Shane said that we should leave it turned on, in case anyone else was still out there, but I didn't think that anyone would ever manage to get in contact with the group.
It interested me enough to keep asking questions.
"Do they know who it was?"
"No," Carl answered. "He just said he was going to Atlanta."
Poor guy. He must not have known what he was getting into if he was heading into Atlanta. Then again, we shipped six of our own people into that city as well, and we knew the dangers that were down there.
"Oh."
I had a few more things I wanted to ask him, but I was unsure which was more important. My questions were interrupted at the sound of footsteps nearing me and Carl. We both looked up to see Shane nearing us.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
I shrugged. "A little better now, thanks."
Shane then turned to Carl. "Hey, bud. You want to learn how to tie those knots?"
"Okay," Carl nodded with a smile. "Can Ace come?"
"Of course," Shane answered.
"Knots?" I questioned, glancing over to Shane. "Really?"
He chuckled. "It's a useful skill."
"I'll come and sit with you, but I'm not learning knots."
Shane walked over to some of the chairs in front of the caravan. He instructed Carl to sit down, and left to grab a rope. I sat down on one of the chairs across the burnt out fire, turning to sit sideways so my legs hung over the arm.
"You know how to do a slip knot?" Shane asked Carl when he sat down next to him.
I picked at my sleeve. "Sounds like some American band."
"I thought you weren't taking part?" Shane questioned with a smile.
"What? I'm not allowed to speak if I don't take part in the lesson?"
Shane chuckled, and turned towards Carl. He slowly started showing him how to tie the knot around his own hands, before then handing the string over to Carl.
"Now you try," I watched Carl as he haphazardly tried following Shane's instructions. The string caught on his finger, unwound from the way it was supposed to, but Shane just sat there patiently until Carl had finally twisted it the right way. "Attaboy. And three, two, one . . . pull it."
Carl did as he was instructed, but the rope fell loose in his fingers. "Aw!"
They both laughed.
"Start it over," Shane instructed. "Make your "p" . . . the other way, around your finger."
"Oops."
"Good, just tie it around your finger."
I didn't realise I was smiling until Carl finally managed to do the knot the right way. He looked over at me and held up the piece of string, showing me the small loop with the knot at the bottom. Shane tapped Carl on the shoulder, taking the piece of string from his hands.
Before he could go on and explain something else, the CB squawked from on top of the motorhome. Dale rushed around the vehicle to climb the ladder.
T-Dog's voice came through the static. "Hello, base camp! Can anybody out there hear me? Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?"
I sat up quickly in my chair and spun around.
Dale took the radio in his hands. "Hello? Hello? Reception's bad on this end. Repeat. Repeat."
"Shane, is that you?" T-Dog asked,
"Is that them?" Lori asked, stepping into the centre of camp. I didn't know where she was, but she came back very quickly when she heard the CB.
T-Dog started. "We're in some deep shit . . . trapped . . . department store."
Shane frowned. "He said they're trapped?"
I kept my eyes on the CB, chewing on my lip anxiously. They must have been spotted by the sick, which I knew would be bad, because of what Glenn said last time he went. There must have been hundreds of them, which was only confirmed when T-Dog spoke again.
"Geeks . . . Hundreds of 'em . . . We're surrounded."
"T-Dog, repeat that last. Repeat!" Dale ordered.
The static stopped, and the CB was silent shortly after. Everyone stood around staring at the CB on top of the motorhome. I stood, glancing over at Shane. His face was expressionless as he thought about what he just heard.
"He said the department store," Lori said after a moment..
Dale nodded. "I heard it too."
There was a moment of gut-wrenching silence.
"Shane?" Lori questioned.
"No way, we do not go after them," Shane stated, shaking his head. "We do not risk the rest of the group. Y'all know that."
My eyes widened.
What the fuck?
Amy stormed forward. "So we're just going to leave her there?"
"Look, Amy. I know this isn't easy—"
"—She volunteered to help the rest of us," Amy interrupted.
"I know, and she knew the risks, right? See, if she's trapped, she's gone. So we just have to deal with that. There's nothing we can do."
Amy glared at him before she seethed. "She's my sister, you son of a bitch."
She ran off before Shane could say anything. I glanced over towards Lori who was glaring at Shane. I knew she was pissed off with his decisions. She looked to where Amy was running and followed after her, calling her name.
Shane glanced over at me, but when he realised how angry I was he avoided my eyes. Instead, he ruffled Carl's hair, and said "come on."
The people in the group dispersed, going back to whatever they had been doing originally. I stared at Shane for a few more moments, bewildered that he would leave the group in Atlanta without trying anything.
Instead of sitting down with them again, I stormed off towards the tent.
I decided to go and sit with Amy, who was sitting on one of the chairs outside the motor home. She glanced up as I neared, wiping her hand under her eyes.
"Are you okay?" I asked carefully.
"Yeah," she sniffed a little, before letting out a laugh. "Everyone in the camp must think I'm a complete idiot."
"I don't know," I started in a joking tone, "I personally enjoyed the part where you called Shane a son of a bitch."
She laughed and gestured down to the chair next to her so I would have somewhere to sit. I joined her, and leaned forwards on my knees.
"I think they're okay," I stated. "They're probably trying to find a way out of the shop."
"I hope so," she answered, but after a second she ran her hands through her hair and exclaimed "Ugh! I never thought anything would be more stressful than college!"
"What were you studying?" I questioned.
I didn't really know why I asked. Talking about that would probably distract her from what was happening in Atlanta, even if it was only for a moment.
"I was majoring in journalism and media," she answered. "I spent nights awake agonising over stupid little assignments. I didn't realise it could get worse than that."
I was only in high school, but I knew what staying up late and doing homework felt like. Although, school in this country was so much easier than back in Britain. The school knew that it wasn't challenging enough, but they couldn't really do much to help me.
After a few moments, Amy turned to look at me. "Did you ever decide if you wanted to go to college?"
"Yeah, I wanted to go into medicine," I answered. "Be a doctor."
"Sounds like you had a whole plan," she said with a smile.
"Yeah . . . I did."
"Well hopefully the military can deal with the geeks soon," Amy said, "so we can get back to our own lives."
I opened my mouth to answer her, but as I did there was a loud wailing noise in the background. It sounded like a siren or an alarm. Amy jumped to her feet and ran around to the front of the motor home to see over the edge of the quarry.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shane stand up and rush towards the caravan. He had his shotgun in his hand, and he looked up towards the motor home. "Talk to me Dale."
"I can't tell yet," Dale answered.
"Is it them?" Amy questioned frantically. "Are they back?"
"We'll I'll be damned," Dale uttered.
"What is it?" Amy questioned.
"Stolen car is my guess."
The alarms got louder, and a moments later, a red Dodge Challenger drifted around the corner between the trees. It looked like one of the newer models. I walked to Amy's side as the car screeched to a stop.
Glenn stepped out of the car as Dale exclaimed, "Holy crap! Turn that damn thing off!"
"I don't know how!" Glenn answered, his arms raised in the air.
I moved past the group who was gathering around Glenn. Really, I just wanted to look at the car, but even fangirling over it wasn't enough to hide my worry of why Glenn had come back alone.
"Could you pop the hood, please?" Shane asked.
"My sister . . . Where's Andrea?" Amy asked quickly, running over to Glenn.
"Glenn, could you pop the hood?" Shane continued to question, but Glenn was caught up in answering Amy's questions. "Could you pop the damn hood please?!"
I rushed past Glenn, sitting down in the driver's side of the car before reaching down to pull the lever that opened the bonnet. I didn't stand up from the car though and just sat there for a second, shocked that I was actually even seeing one of these, let alone sitting inside one.
"She's okay! Yes, yes, she's okay! She's fine!" Glenn was yelling over the sirens. "They all are."
Jim reached under the bonnet and pulled out a wire that stopped the alarm.
Shane was leaning over the engine, looking sideways at Glenn. "You crazy driving this wheeling bastard up here, you trying to draw every geek for miles?"
"I think we're okay," Dale answered.
Shane glared over at him. "You call being stupid okay?"
"Well those alarms were echoing all over these hills, hard to pinpoint the source," Dale explained, while Shane glared. "I'm not arguing, I'm just saying. It wouldn't kill you to think things through a little more carefully next time."
"Sorry," Glenn said quietly, "I got a cool car though."
The rumble of another engine filled the new found silence of the camp. I stepped out from the car and looked back to see a fennec van pulling up the road. It slowed to a stop behind the line of other cars.
Not a second later the rest of the group all climbed out of the vehicle, rushing toward their waiting families. I watched carefully, but Merle didn't climb out of the van. T-Dog had cuts and bruises on his face. I looked at him with a frown, trying to work out what could have happened.
"How did you get out of the city?" Shane questioned, interrupting me from my thoughts.
"New guy," Glenn answered. "He got us out."
"New guy?"
Morales, who was hugging his children and wife, answered the question. "Crazy vato came riding into town. Helicopter boy! Come say hello!"
I glanced over at the person, who had exited the van and closed the door. He was tall and thin, almost unhealthily thin. He had brown hair, a clean-shaven face and was wearing a brown police uniform. I sent him a smile to be welcoming, but he looked straight past everyone in the group.
He wiped away some tears in his eyes, and I wondered why until I heard Carl scream, "DAD!"
I looked over my shoulder and watched Carl run towards the man. Lori was close behind him and they both jumped into his arms. My mouth was agape, and I could only watch Carl with a smile on my face.
"Disoriented," Rick said. "I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion, all those things but . . . Disoriented comes closest."
The thought of waking up and having nobody around frightened me. I couldn't imagine what Rick went through to get to Atlanta. I pulled the blanket up, hugging the material to my chest.
"Words can be meagre things," Dale said. "Sometimes they fall short."
Meagre?
"I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever," Rick explained.
Carl looked up from where he was laying. "Mom said you died."
Rick glanced at her, before looking down and stroking Carl's hair. "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it."
"When things started to get really bad," Lori started, "they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened."
"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell," Rick said.
"Yeah."
"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun."
Shane nodded. "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out, you know?"
"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane," Rick said. "I can't begin to express it."
I had never thought about what other people went through when all this began. Me and my dad barely had a chance to pack anything before we had to leave, and on our way to Atlanta the car ran out of fuel. We had to break into one of the empty houses for the night. The street was empty and there were no people or cars we could use to continue going to Atlanta.
"There go those words falling short again. Paultry things," Dale said.
Paultry?
There was the sound of crackling behind the circle of people, and I saw that Ed sat back down in his chair.
Shane glanced over his shoulder before saying, "Ed, you want to rethink that log?"
"It's cold, man," Ed snapped.
"The cold don't change the rules, does it?" Shane asked. "Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"
"I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once."
Shane got up and walked over towards Ed.
Still angry at Shane, I forced myself to look away. Ed still really pissed me off too, but there was nothing I was able to do about it. I wanted to yell and scream at him, but I knew that I would never be able to stand up to Ed. Not without causing any more problems. I was glad that Shane was actually doing something, as annoyed as I was, but still. Nothing seemed like enough.
I glanced back over when I heard Ed yelling at Carol, and watched her stand back up to take the log from the fire. I frowned to myself, biting the inside of my cheek to make me keep my mouth shut.How could he do that to her? I didn't understand how Ed could get away with any of this in front of people, let alone the damage he caused when they were alone.
Shane kneeled down to talk to her and Sophia, before he stood up to return to the group. Dale waited for Shane to sit down, before hesitantly bringing up the topic everyone had been avoiding all night. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."
Rick had told us what happened to Merle. How he was high, and how he acted when confronted. As awful as it sounded, I still felt so bad that they left him there. With all the walkers that were apparently rushing into the building, I doubted that there was any way that Merle could even still be alive . . .
My eyes immediately went to T-Dog. His face was swollen and bruised from Merle beating him in Atlanta. I knew Merle was awful, but actually beating T-Dog was more than I ever thought he'd do. Apparently, I was wrong.
I had no anger towards Rick, or his decision to lock Merle up. I had seen him angry, I had seen him high, and I assumed that his confrontation with me was one of Merle's milder outbursts. Rick was a policeman, he knew what he was doing, and he got everyone out.
"I'll tell him," T-Dog said. "I dropped the key, it's on me."
"I cuffed him," Rick stated. "That makes it mine."
Glenn leaned forwards a little, interrupting the conversation. "Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."
His eyes trailed to Rick when he said that.
"I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him," T-Dog shook his head.
"We could lie," Amy suggested.
"Or tell the truth," Andrea said. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."
"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale had a surprised look on his face. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?"
I didn't understand how they were looking for Daryl to be rational. His brother was locked on a roof, and probably being eaten by the sick, and they wanted him to act like nothing had happened? If Daryl yelled or threw a fit, it would be more than reasonable.
Dale continued, his voice quieter. "Word to the wise . . . We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."
T-Dog shook his head. "I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it."
"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea questioned.
"I stopped long enough to chain that door," T-Dog explained.
I glanced over at him. This was the first I had heard about T-Dog chaining the door, but when Rick had explained to everyone what happened earlier, I could barely bring myself to listen. I felt so sad and guilty to lose someone. But this meant that Merle might still be alive.
T-Dog leaned forwards a little, holding his ribs as he did so. "Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that . . . Not that chain, not that padlock. My point is, Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."
Alive. I was one of the first people to admit that I didn't like Merle, and I knew for a fact that if he ever came back to the camp then he was going to be pissed. Not that I blamed him . . . well, not entirely at least.
After a while, people started residing back to their tents. It was getting late and even though I had slept in the motorhome in the middle of the day, I was still achy and tired. I didn't announce that I was leaving, I just left for bed soon after the first few people started leaving. Even after sleeping in the motor home, I was still extremely tired. I hoped that I would be able to sleep through the whole night and went off to the tent.
"This is dumb," Carl whined. "And boring. And dumb."
"Okay, I get it," I tapped the paper in front of him. I completely agreed, but wasn't sure I should indulge him.
He leaned his head in his hands. "Why do I have to do this?"
Good question. "Your mum said you have to."
"We don't even have school right now."
I had been trying to think of anything that could get him to do the work, but with the back and forth lasting ten minutes I was running out of ways to hype up the homework. "But when school starts again, you'll be ready, right?"
"Uh, no. It's summer. School would've been done by now, so even if we go back home there won't be school until September."
"Okay . . ." The smile dropped from my face, and I was running out of ideas to keep him working on the problems. "All great points, but . . ."
Carl just stared at me, as if daring me to come up with a good answer. I was on his side, I wanted to verbally agree. There was a lot going on right now and this was a stupid thing to make him do. I wasn't his mother, I had no say. No matter how much I disagreed with Lori, I had no right to undermine her. I'd seen her annoyed, and I did not want to be on the receiving end. The last thing I needed was Lori on my arse.
". . . but, but! If you finish this homework now, then maybe we could . . ." my brain struggled to think of a fun reward for after, something fun to do. But we were camping. "I don't know, what do you want to do?"
"Not this," Carl huffed.
"I've noticed."
Carl got distracted at the sound of footsteps, and looked up to see who it was. I also glanced over, spotting Rick who smiled as he neared the table.
"Dad!" Carl yelled happily.
"Hey," Rick sat down, "what are you two up to?"
I hadn't spoken to him yet; I decided to give him his space the day before. The man came back from the dead, so he probably didn't want me bugging him as well.
"Ace is making me do homework," Carl complained.
My head shot over to look at Carl. "Uh, excuse me? I'm doing what?"
"You're making me do this, because mom said."
"I'm not making you do anything. I'm not your mother. I don't care if you get this done or not."
Rick laughed, which reminded me that he was still sitting right there. "Why don't you take a break for now?"
"Okay," Carl stood up immediately and ran away from the table as if someone would change their mind and make him stay.
I watched him leave, my mouth slightly agape. I knew that I would have to repeat all of this later when Lori realised that Carl still hadn't done his homework. As I went to stand up, I noticed that Rick was sitting there. Part of me assumed he would follow after Carl when he left. I awkwardly sat back down in my seat.
"So, uh . . . I'm sorry, was it Ace?" He asked.
"Yeah," I couldn't get over the confused look on his face, so I continued. "I know, weird name."
"Well, I'm Rick Grimes."
"Yeah, I know," it started as a joke, but for some reason my mouth kept trying to explain. I had a small tendency to ramble in awkward situations. "I mean . . . The group doesn't get a lot of new people, is all. I mean, I was the last . . . new . . . person. And your Carl's dad, Lori's husband, so . . ."
I had to force myself to stop talking when Rick grinned.
"I'm sorry, I swear I can stop talking."
"It's okay," he chuckled. "Do you watch Carl a lot?"
"Yeah, kind of. Sometimes we play games and stuff," I answered.
"Well, thank you. I appreciate it," he smiled.
"Of course," I nodded. I paused before saying, "Speaking of, I should probably go and check on the kids, I don't think anyone is actually watching them."
Rick looked worried for a second, and I pressed my lips into a thin line, my gaze wandering down to the table. Will you ever shut up?
I was thankful when he seemed to glass over everything I said. "I'll see you."
I waved goodbye before jogging away to go and find Carl. He and the other children were playing behind a group of tents close to the wooded area. When they saw me, they all started running in my direction, laughing happily.
"Ace!" Louis—Morales' boy—yelled happily.
Eliza ran over and wrapped her arms around my waist giving me a big hug. She looked up, arms still wrapped around me and asked. "Will you play tag with us?"
"Yeah!" I smiled.
"You're it!" Eliza yelled, before sprinting off in the opposite direction.
I should have seen that one coming.
The others quickly followed after her, trying to get away, but I quickly caught up to Carl and touched him on the shoulder.
"Got you!"
"Ace!" Carl protested, he'd caught on that I had been after him. I didn't even tryto get the other kids.
"Should've done your homework!" I called out as I ran. I heard him huff angrily behind me. He tagged Sophia who was quick to run after and tagged Louis.
Louis started running straight for me, but as I took a few steps back to start sprinting away, I felt something against the back of my leg before I fell backwards onto the ground. I looked up and noticed the noise trap, a piece of string with tin cans tied to it to tell the group if any sick people were near. The kids ducked under the string and stood around me as I laid on the ground.
"Are you okay?" Carl questioned.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I sat up rubbing the back of my head.
Louis reached down and tapped my arm. "Tag!"
Each of the children started laughing again and sprinted off. I looked around for the kids and saw them running off further into the trees. I quickly stumbled to my feet and chased after them. "Guys! Not too far!"
The kids ran around a bush ahead of me. As I neared I heard one of them scream, so I sprinted behind the bush and slid to a stop when I saw what they were scared of. It was one of the sick people . . . geeks, eating a dead deer.
It hadn't seemed to notice us yet. I didn't waste the chance to push the kids back, holding my arm out in front of them.
"Go, go, go!"
"Mom!" Carl screamed as he sprinted off back towards camp.
I was behind them, making sure all of the kids were ahead of me as we ran back towards the camp.
The adults shouting grew nearer, but Morales was first to jump over the sound trap. Shane, Rick and Lori were close behind.
"Mom!" Carl screamed, rushing towards his mother.
While Lori was checking on Carl, Rick rushed over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, lowering himself down a little to look me in the eyes. "Are you okay? Where is it?"
I pointed at the same bush we had all run from. "It—it's over there."
He nodded and rushed off, all the men following behind him as they entered the clearing. By this point, all of the children's mothers were there with a few other people and were checking their kids for any bites or scratches.
Amy and Andrea walked past me, glancing around the bushes at the sick person in the clearing. I couldn't see past them, but by the sound of the repeated thuds, I could tell that the men were currently hitting the sick person over and over with the weapons they had grabbed.
I edged forwards, my heart pounding in my ears. That was the closest I had ever been to one of them. Back at the house, I would never let myself get anywhere near one, sick or not, they were dangerous.
Seeing it so close made me question how I thought about them. I assumed it was some kind of virus that was making people rabid, that's how the news had described it. But this person was greyish in the skin, and there were parts falling off, and there was no life in its eyes.
Was it dead? How would that even be possible?
I winced as I watched Dale take the final blow, and swing his axe down on the person, slicing through their neck. The head rolled off, and the body stilled. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look at the body.
After a moment, the men looked between each other. Dale breathed out a sigh. "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain."
"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what," Jim guessed.
The group jumped at the sound of rustling in the trees behind them, and I stepped back a little in case it was another sick person. If it was, I didn't intend on hanging around much longer.
Daryl stepped out from behind the bushes, holding a crossbow in the air as he navigated around the bushes. He glared at the group, before looking down at the deer. Shane, who had his gun aimed, lowered the weapon.
"Son of a bitch," Daryl yelled, walking to stand over the body of the sick person. "That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this . . . filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, proxy bastard!"
He kicked the thing with each insult.
"Calm down, son," Dale said. "That's not helping."
Daryl scoffed, marching around the body towards Dale. "What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to on golden pond?"
He turned back to the deer, and started removing the lodged arrows . . . bolts?
"I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"
Shane shook his head. "I would not risk that."
"That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel . . . about a dozen or so. That'll have to do."
The thing's head started moving, its teeth snapping at them from the ground. I spun around and rushed away, unable to stick being around the carcasses any longer. Amy and Andrea also had the same idea, because they grimaced and turned to join the rest of the group in camp.
When I made it to the motorhome, I heard Daryl shouting from behind me. "Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up."
I looked back, and watched the group crowd around where Daryl was yelling. I only now noticed that he had a bunch of squirrels tied over his shoulders.
Shane followed closely behind him. "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you."
"About what?"
"About Merle. There was a . . ." Shane hesitated. "There was a problem in Atlanta."
"He dead?"
"We're not sure."
"Either he is or he ain't!" Daryl yelled, frustrated.
Rick stepped into the middle of the group. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."
"Who are you?" Daryl questioned.
"Rick Grimes."
"Rick Grimes," Daryl mimicked, his voice louder. "You got something you want to tell me?"
Rick didn't hesitate and started explaining what Merle had done in Atlanta. "Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. . . He's still there."
"Hold on," Daryl snapped. "Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!"
Rick nods, almost ashamed. "Yeah."
Daryl chucked his squirrels aside and charged at Rick, but he was knocked to the ground by Shane.
"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yelled.
I didn't even realise that Daryl even had a knife before T-Dog spoke, but I watched as he stumbled to his feet and started swinging the weapon at Rick. Rick managed to grab his arm, and twist the knife away before Shane came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck.
"Okay. Okay," Shane eased Daryl to the ground, holding him still.
Daryl yelled in protest and struggled in Shane's grip, but neither of them would let up. "Choke holding's illegal."
"You can file a complaint," Shane said sarcastically. After a few more seconds of struggle, he said: "Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."
Rick kneeled in front of Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?"
Daryl continued fighting Shane, but after a few moments, he realised his attempts were futile and slowed down.
"Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asked again.
I frowned a little. I still couldn't believe what they were trying to ask of him. His brother might be dead, and you want him to be rational?
Eventually, Shane let Daryl go.
"What I did was not on a whim," Rick began. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."
You can say that again.
T-Dog stepped in next, walking past me to look at Daryl. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it."
Daryl pushed himself off the ground. "You couldn't pick it up?"
T-Dog shook his head. "Well, I dropped it in a drain."
Daryl scoffed, leaning over on the ground for a second to catch his breath. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to T-Dog. "If it's s'posed to make me feel better, it don't."
"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof . . . So the geeks couldn't get at him . . . With a padlock. It's got to count for something."
Daryl paused, thinking it over. "Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so that I can go get him."
After Daryl and Rick left to grab their things I sat with Glenn. He was sitting by the dismantled Dodge Chaser, his elbows resting on his knees in front of him. I didn't know they started taking apart the car for scraps until after the dead thing got into camp.
"I'm sorry about the car," I said.
Glenn sighed. "I thought I'd at least get to drive it for a few more days."
"We could find something better!" I offered with a smile on my face.
Before Glenn could answer, he was interrupted by Shane who entered the camp with Rick.
"—Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"
I narrowed my eyes at Shane, even though I understood where he was coming from he didn't need to say it that way.
"Hey, choose your words more carefully," Daryl warned.
"No, I did. Douche bag's what I meant," Shane scoffed, turning back to Rick. "Merle Dixon . . . The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."
Knobhead. It's like he wants a fight.
"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me," Rick argued. "I can't let a man die of thirst . . . me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."
"So you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori questioned.
Rick turned around so he was facing us, his eyes immediately landing on Glenn. I glanced over and noticed him pulling a face. "Oh, come on!"
"You know the way. You've been there before . . . In and out, no problem. You said so yourself," Rick said. "It's not fair of me to ask . . . I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too."
He gestured back towards Lori with the last sentence.
Shane scoffed. "That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men, huh?"
"Four," T-Dog corrected.
Daryl huffed. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?"
"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog questioned, tilting his head as he looked over at Daryl.
"Why you?"
"You wouldn't even begin to understand," T-Dog shook his head. "You don't speak my language."
"That's four," Dale said.
"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick," Shane's voice kept getting louder as he continued. "Come on, you saw that Walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect the camp."
Rick paused, thinking over his next decision. "It seems to me what you really need most here are more guns."
I failed to understand what he was talking about, but Glenn seemed to understand. "Right," Glenn smiled. "The guns!"
Shane frowned. "What guns?"
"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."
"Ammo?"
"700 rounds, assorted."
"You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori leaned forwards in her seat.
Carl shook his head. "Dad, I don't want you to go."
"To hell with the guns," Lori snapped. "Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in."
Rick walked over to her, stopping just in front of her. I wanted to say something, but there wasn't much I could say. I had no place in their argument, and once again, I understood the apprehensiveness behind going back for Merle. But he was still human, what gives Lori the right to decide he wasn't worth anything?
Lori continued, quieter this time. "Tell me. Make me understand. "
"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy. Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."
"What's stopping you?" She asked.
"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."
"These are our walkies?" Shane asked.
"Yeah."
"So use the CB," Andrea said. "What's wrong with that?"
"The CB's fine," Shane said. "It's the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth . . . Not even the scanners in our cars."
Rick turned to look at Lori again. "I need that bag."
Lori was quiet for a second but eventually answered. "All right."
Rick walked to Carl and kneeled in front of him. "Okay?"
Carl nodded a yes.
I sat with Glenn while he packed his things to go to Atlanta again. I twiddled my thumbs nervously, kind of scared about what would happen this time. If Shane didn't want to save the group last time, he wouldn't this time. He only agreed to the idea because Rick said they could get more guns for the group.
Part of me was considering giving him the radio, but I'm sure Rick was smart of me to take it. I had a whole plan in my head to hotwire a car if anything went wrong, but I barely knew the area from my own town, never mind my way to Atlanta.
"Can't believe I gotta save Merle," Glenn grumbled to himself. I didn't know whether he was expecting me to say anything, but I just stayed quiet. He crawled out of his tent, throwing his bag on his back. "Okay, I think I got everything."
"Yeah, just . . . be careful this time?" I asked. "I don't want to have to drive to Atlanta."
"Why would you do it?" Glenn asked. "I'm sure Shane or someone would."
Yeah, you'd think so.
"Please?" I asked again, not wanting to tell him that Shane would leave them behind. He had an ever-growing track record for such an activity.
"Okay, I'll be careful."
After that Glenn left to join the group that was preparing to leave for Atlanta. I breathed out a sigh and watched the van leave for the city, hoping that the rescue mission would be quick and easy.
Chapter 8 is finally here. I'm going to be swamped with exams soon, so 9 may not be out until they are done. However, we will see what happens. Penn helped me out when editing this one, and I am grateful.
I hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think :)