Carolina in my mind

Chapter 22

"You can't do this to me!," Andrea hollered, her voice thick with the self assured authority that came with simply being her. She was directing the bulk of her complaints towards Rick, since he was the one locking the door to the holding cell Merle tossed her into. "This is illegal!"

"Oh yeah?," Rick asked, managing to hide the slight smirk on his face. "Maybe you should file a complaint with the department." Andrea huffed in frustration.

"Michonne!," she called out, turning her attention to the only person that didn't seem to find the situation humorous. "You can't let them do this to me!"

Michonne moved forward, stepping closer to the door of Andrea's cell. She looked the woman up and down.

"Now you want my help?," Michonne hissed. Her face was an emotionless mask. But her anger and bitterness was clear in the tone of her voice. Andrea did her dirty. Even after she knew the truth about the governor, she still chose him over the woman that risked her life to save her multiple times. "You chose a warm bed over a friend," Michonne said. "...and now you can lay in it."

"That's right, you're a hoe!" Carolina added, deciding that it was an opportune moment for her to air out her opinion on Andrea. First she fucked crazy Shane. And then the governor. Shane was at least attractive. But there was no excuse for pounding one out with the big bad of season three. That was just downright thirsty slut behavior. Especially after Andrea found out what and who the governor was and then doubled down like she planned to continue her relationship with him.

"You're calling me a hoe?," Andrea asked. "Look who you're layin' down with at night."

"Well your boyfriend gets his rocks off staring at rotten decapitated heads," Carolina announced, shaking her fist back and forth and then opening her hand in imitation of a male jerking himself off and coming. "So what does that say about you?" Carolina moved forward, stepping in front of Andrea's cell and grinning at her. "I bet you lie there like a corpse. That's probably why he likes it."

"Fuck you," Andrea cursed. She reached between the bars, snagging Carolina by the shirt and yanking. Carolina had a decisive height and weight advantage on the smaller woman. But it wasn't doing her much good with the prison bars between them. And before long they were locked into each other's hair as they swung and scratched at each other.

"Let fuckin' go of each other," Rick hollered as he tried to push between the two women without being turned into a scratching post himself.

Hershel clapped his hands together, ordering the girls to stop. But they paid him absolutely no attention. With all the screeching they were doing, it was likely they didn't even hear him. Daryl glanced at his brother, hoping that Merle was going to do something to stop the fight since his girlfriend was involved. But he was laughing as he lit himself a cigarette. Daryl cursed under his breath, moving in on the opposite side of the fight from Rick. He jerked back, then moved in again.

"Grab her," he said, gesturing towards Carolina since she was the one on their side of the metal bars. Rick hesitated, debating on where to put his hands. If he went under her armpits, he was going to get a handful of tit. And if he grabbed her around the waist, his body was going to be all up against hers. Deciding that grabbing her waist was the lesser of two evils, Rick grabbed Carolina and waited on Daryl to do whatever the hell he was about to do.

Daryl pushed in and grabbed the wrists of the hands the two women were using to grip each other's hair. He squeezed down and twisted, making them both scream and release their hold on each other at the same time. Rick pulled Carolina back and away from the bars. But Andrea managed to catch a last grip on the neckline of her shirt. And it ripped open down the front when Rick jerked her away. He released his grip on her as quickly as he could, stumbling backwards in his hurry to get away. The last thing he needed was more problems with Merle. Though if he was worried about someone else grabbing at his woman, Rick's opinion would be that Merle should have dealt with her crazy ass himself.

"Don't even think about it," Daryl warned, stepping to the side and blocking Carolina from rushing at Andrea again. Her hair looked like a bird's nest. And her shirt was ripped down the middle, exposing her heaving chest that the lace edged bra she was wearing was struggling to contain.

"If you ladies wanna have round two later, I'd be happy to referee," Merle offered. Carolina rolled her eyes at him, jerking the front of her shirt together and tying it in a knot. Doing it that way exposed her stomach. But at least her boobs were halfway covered.

"Shut the hell up Merle," she huffed, stomping over and snatching the cigarette from his hand. "...and quit smoking up all my cigarettes." Carolina took a drag, blowing it out as she rubbed at the spot on her head where some of her hair had been ripped from her scalp. She lowered her hair, seeing the tangle of loose blonde hairs that were twined between her fingers. Scowling, she glanced back over at Andrea. "This isn't over bitch!," she threatened.
"I don't even know why it started, bitch!," Andrea hollered back.

"That's more than enough," Hershel warned.

Carolina took another puff of her smoke before showing the old man her palms. She still might go another round with Andrea later. But she did feel a little bad for starting a petty fight when Hershel just found out a few hours ago that one of his daughters was dead. He would probably rather be reading the bible than breaking up their bitchy catfight.

"If we're gonna do this, let's go," Glenn suggested. "We're burning daylight."

There were nods all around. Weapons and ammunition were handed out. And before long, Carolina was sitting between Daryl and Michonne in the front seat of the truck Sasha drove them back to the prison in, heading for the spot on the map that was theirs to raid. Daryl was quiet as they drove, ignoring the funny story Carolina was telling Michonne about the time one of her special needs students brought a live dog to school in his backpack. Carolina assumed Daryl might be irritated to have only girls as his run partners. Because he knocked off his sulking shortly after they arrived at the locked storage shed. Michonne slashed down all the walkers that were hanging around outside the place without even breaking a sweat. And then she and Carolina started working together to heft the heavier crates and boxes back up into the bed of the truck. After he saw that, Daryl must have decided that he didn't fare as poorly as he first assumed when the run partners were assigned.

"Hell yeah," Daryl exclaimed.

Carolina moved into the shed, peeking into the box Daryl was poking around it. The whole box was the kind that was divided into cardboard pockets on the inside. And in each one was a full unopened bottle of liquor. Under that box were two more just like it, along with a stack of another three boxes to the side of it.

"We're getting drunk tonight," Carolina squealed. Daryl broke the seal on an expensive bottle of whiskey and twisted the cap off.

"Fuck tonight," he corrected, tipping the bottle back and taking a hard swig. Carolina laughed, snatching the bottle from him and taking a shot for herself. Dark liquor wasn't really her thing. But she still enjoyed the burn as it went down. Before Daryl got any ideas about actually getting drunk right now she screwed the cap back on and stuffed the bottle back where it came from.

"Don't act like such a schoolteacher," he teased.

Carolina leaned forward as she closed the box, looking up at Daryl as she moved. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the shed and the whiskey. And either she was crazy or he was smiling at her, his eyes lingering on the part of her shirt that ripped during her fight with Andrea. Was Daryl just flirting with me, she wondered. Carolina leaned slightly more forward than necessary as she lifted the box, trying not to laugh when Daryl realized that she knew he was staring down her shirt. He spun away like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, quickly moving to lift a box off the stack to his left.

Carolina only got a few steps before she heard a gurgling scream break the silence outside the shed. She tossed her box onto the closest stack, pulling her gun from the holster as she rushed down the small wooden ramp and out into the late afternoon sunshine. The scream came from the man Michonne already slashed dead with her sword. But there was another man on his knees, his hands shaking as he held them in the air.

"Please don't kill me," Milton begged. "I had nothing to do with what happened this morning." He was frightened to take his eyes off Michonne's sword. But his eyes darted towards Carolina for just a moment. "Please don't let her kill me," he pleaded. His glasses were sitting cockeyed on his face. And he looked about five seconds away from pissing his pants.

"Who the hell is this clown?," Daryl asked, eyeing the frightened man like he was a zoo exhibit.

"I'm Milton Mamet," Milton said, cringing back as far as he could away from Michonne's sword.

"He's Milton Mamet," Carolina repeated, biting back a giggle when Daryl cast an irritated glance at her. "He's the governor's advisor," she added. Carolina kicked the body next to him with the toe of her boot. "Did anyone else come out here with you?," she asked.

Milton shook his head. His eyes widened as the radio on the dead man's waist chirped.

Neil. What's your position? Over.

Carolina grabbed the radio, jerking it off the man's belt. She knew who was on the other end of the radio. She'd recognize the governor's sleazy southern drawl anywhere. When she looked up, Daryl was already behind Milton, pointing his crossbow at the man's head and threatening him.

"Yer gonna get on that radio and tell 'im everything is fine," Daryl warned. "Or yer dead."

Carolina moved forward, holding the radio in her hand.

"Tell them there's a few biters here," Carolina ordered. "Neil has it under control. But you're going to be a little longer than you thought." Milton nodded, adjusting his glasses before he went back to holding his hands up next to his head.

Carolina pressed down on the call button, nodding to Milton to indicate he better repeat what she told him.

"There were more biters here than we thought. But we have it under control. Our eta might need to be adjusted slightly to compensate," Miton said.

"Say OVER," Daryl ordered, knocking him in the back of the head.

"OVER," Milton repeated as Carolina held down on the call button for just another second.

Keep your radio on. Let us know if you need backup. Over.

Carolina pushed the radio towards him again.

"Uh… heard and understood," Milton stuttered, glancing behind him with concern before he quickly added, "...over!"

"What're we gonna do with him?," Daryl asked, his loaded bow still pointed at Milton's head. It took Carolina a moment to realize he was talking to her.
"I don't fuckin' know," she admitted. "Tie him up I guess? He probably knows a lot about what the governor has planned…"

Carolina wasn't sure about Michonne and Daryl, but she didn't have a lot of desire to shoot or stab a man that was on the ground whimpering and begging for his life. Daryl considered her plan for a moment before he nodded his approval. He headed for the truck, returning with a roll of silver duct tape. He tore off a piece with his teeth, slapping it down over Milton's mouth. Then Daryl taped the man's wrists together behind his back. Carolina almost felt bad for the guy. Milton was literally shaking with fear as Daryl marched him over to the truck and shoved him forcefully into the cab.

They loaded the rest of the supplies into the truck as quickly as possible. Daryl secured the boxes down with rope and bungee cords, making it possible to fit nearly everything they found inside the shed into the large truck bed. And they already packed the backseat of the cab full before Milton and his associate arrived. Which led to their next problem.

"How are we all gettin' in that truck with that dumbass in there?," Daryl asked.

"One of us can drive and someone can sit on someone else's lap…," Carolina suggested with a shrug. As far as she was concerned, itt was obvious who ought to be in the lap sitting position. Michonne was easily the smaller out of the two of them.

"Oh no," Michonne barked. "I'm driving. I'm not sitting on anyone's fucking lap." She gave Daryl a look that clearly meant especially yours redneck.

Carolina sighed as Michonne headed for the driver's side of the truck and climbed behind the wheel. Daryl opened the passenger door, kicking and pushing at Milton until the man moved into the center of the truck and out of his way. He set his crossbow on the floor and climbed into the passenger seat. Carolina cringed as she climbed awkwardly into the truck behind him. She wasn't hugely overweight or anything. She just wasn't a small person. She was tall, thick through the hips and chest, and weighed as much as most of the men she knew. Carolina braced herself for the inevitable huff that would come when she plopped herself down onto Daryl's thighs.

"I'm sorry," she grumbled, feeling like she was about to squash him like a bug.

Carolina could feel her face getting redder by the second. And she hesitated, shifting her limbs around awkwardly in the cab as she tried to find a way not to put the full weight of her body down on top of Daryl's lap. Daryl finally just grabbed her by the hips, pulling her down onto his lap and shutting the truck door behind her.

"Yer not that heavy," he said, softly chuckling at her antics. When he pulled her down, Carolina sat up straight, bumping her head against the roof of the truck cab. She hunched down, rubbing at her head. "Just relax," Daryl suggested, trying not to laugh harder.

Carolina jostled against him, reaching for the ceiling handle as Michonne maneuvered the truck out of the grassy area and down the dirt path that would lead them to the road. She was too tall to sit up straight. So that left her with two options. She could hunch forward towards the dash and probably smack her head on it as they drove. Or she could lean back against Daryl and hang onto him. After a moment's hesitation, Carolina settled on the latter, leaning into Daryl's chest and threading her arm behind his neck. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tightening his grip as they drove over a slight dip in the trail.

Carolina was still a little worried that Daryl might not have any feeling left in his legs by the time they got back to the prison. But as her initial embarrassment gave way, she began to grow more aware of the way her body was touching his. She was sitting directly on his dick. And with the way she was leaning into him, her abundant cleavage was being pushed almost directly into his face. Carolina was still wearing her ripped up shirt. And the way she tied it up in the front left her midsection bare. And that's where Daryl's hand was resting. On the bare skin above the waistline of her jeans.

Carolina tried to think about something else. Anything else other than how fucking goddamn hot Daryl was. But it was already too late. Her nipples were rock hard inside her bra. And the heat was pounding so hard between her legs Carolina guessed there was no way he couldn't feel it. She'd like to think better of herself. But she knew the only reason she wasn't straddling him with her hand down his pants and her tits in his face was that they weren't alone in the cab of the truck.

When Michonne pulled the truck up in front of the prison, Carolina practically flew out of the truck, stumbling as she attempted to regain control over her body. Thankfully, they were one of the last groups to arrive back. And the flurry of activity and voices helped to get her urges back under her control.

"Damn sugar," Merle teased, hugging her against his chest once she got done kissing him in a way that was probably not appropriate in front of mixed company. "What's got into you?"

"Nothing. I just missed you."

Carolina almost laughed at herself. That was really one whopper of a lie. But at least she told it to be nice. Because she was quite sure that telling Merle she almost rubbed herself off on his brother on the ride back probably wouldn't go over very well.

"We brought someone back I think you might like to talk to," Carolina said, ticking her head towards the truck.

Merle sauntered over, poking his head into the cab and laughing. Carolina gasped slightly when Merle grabbed Milton by the shirt and drug him much more forcefully than necessary out of the truck and onto the pavement. I guess there's no love lost there, she thought. Milton struggled against the tape that was holding his wrists together, making muffled noises of protest through his gag.

"Well well," Merle chided, clicking his tongue at the man. "Nice to see you again Milty. How's about a big hug for yer old pal Merle?"

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