Carolina in my mind
Chapter 29
"I'm sorry Michonne," Carolina huffed. "You shoulda left me back at the prison. I'm just slowing you down." Carolina braced her forearm against the high iron fence to her right, leaning forward with her eyes closed and resting her forehead against her arm until the world stopped spinning around her. The excitement of seeing something other than the inside of the prison walls sparked her on for about the first hour of their day-long walk. But after that, Carolina started getting winded. Michonne already had to stop several times and wait for her to catch her breath or fight through a dizzy spell. And instead of getting her second wind, Carolina's exhaustion was only increasing the further they walked. If fainting and being eaten by the dead didn't kill her first, Carolina was certain she was going to die of sheer embarrassment. She knew that part of her problem was all the valium she took was still working its way out of her system. But it was just plain shameful to be gasping for breath like a fish out of water while Michonne looked like she was out for a casual afternoon stroll.
"You haven't had anything to eat or drink for three days," Michonne said, pushing what was left in her canteen towards Carolina. "If I was worried about moving fast, I would've come alone."
Carolina took the canteen, giving Michonne the most grateful smile she could muster up. She sipped the water slowly, wishing it was cold. Carolina leaned her head against her arm again, but this time her eyes were open. The hedges on the other side of the tall iron fence were thick. But she could still see through them in a few spots.
"Check this place out," Carolina suggested, pointing through the opening in the foliage.
Michonne slid in closer to her so they could peek through the bushes together. Beyond them was a truly magnificent southern mansion. The yard was overgrown and the carefully manicured bushes had gone wild. But not badly enough yet to detract from the beauty of the place.
The ground level was all brick archways. Toward the center of the giant sprawling home, there was a staircase that led up onto what Carolina was sure was the biggest wrap around porch in existence. There were so many windows, Carolina couldn't even begin to count them all. There were more of them above the porch level, sticking out from the roof like little turrets. But the best part was the roof. The top of it was flat and had a railing around it, making it obvious that the area was accessible from inside the house. She wasn't sure what the previous owners used the area for. But she thought it would be the perfect place to sunbathe. All she needed was a tiny bikini and a drink with one of those little umbrellas in it and she'd live happily here for the rest of her life.
"What kind of people do you think lived there?," Carolina asked. "...before the outbreak?"
"I don't know, rich ones," Michonne quipped, smiling when she managed to draw a weak giggle from Carolina. "I know who's about to live there tonight," Michonne added, whacking at Carolina with the back of her gloved hand and gesturing for the other woman to follow her. "Come on."
The two women followed the fence around until they reached a large wrought iron gate. The gate was still secured shut with a thick metal chain, which was promising, since it meant the place probably hadn't been raided yet. A walker in a black chauffeur's suit was on the other side, reaching for them through the iron bars. Michonne whipped out her sword and stabbed him straight through the eyeball. Carolina groaned in disgust, almost laughing and barfing at the same time when Michonne pulled her sword back only to find that the man's rotting eyeball was still hanging from it. She marched away, wiping her sword off on the grass while Carolina yanked and rattled the chained gates.
There was a little call button near the left side of the brick driveway. One that Carolina supposed was used by guests and delivery drivers before the turn to alert the homeowners of their presence. Carolina pushed her finger down on the red button a few times. Without power, the device wasn't functional and probably hadn't been in quite some time. But that didn't stop Carolina from jamming her finger down over the call button and leaning forward to holler directly into the speaker.
"Hello! Excuse me sir! This is the Rick Grimes Blowjob delivery service. We're gonna need this gate opened up right now!"
Carolina straightened up and turned around. Michonne had an offbeat sense of humor. Carolina figured out within the first hour alone together that it was impossible to predict what the woman would and wouldn't find funny. For whatever reason, this particular joke seemed to put her over the edge. Because Michonne plopped down on her butt in the overgrown grass and buried her face in her gloved hands, her body shaking with silent laughter.
"Goddamn Michonne," Carolina chuckled, "...it wasn't even that funny."
Once she got control of her functions back, Michonne climbed back onto her feet and began tinkering with the gate. It was chained closed in the center. But when Michonne pushed the right side back as far as it would go, there was a crack between the two halves of the gate that looked wide enough for a small person to squeeze through.
"I think I can fit through there," Michonne said. Carolina cast a pointed glance at the woman's amble backside and started to laugh. "Just hold the gate for me," Michonne huffed. There was an incline in the driveway that created slightly more space towards the bottom of the gate. Michonne lowered herself down, shoving her sword and the rest of her crap through first. Then she turned sideways and began to wiggle her body through. There was a little grunting and huffing, but after a moment, Michonne popped through the narrow opening.
"Okay," Michonne said, "...your turn."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?," Carolina asked. "There's no way I'm fitting through there." The low groan of a walker caught her attention. And Carolina cursed under her breath when she saw that a large group of them were shuffling down the street in her direction.
"Come on," Michonne urged, pulling the gate back with as much force as she could.
Carolina shoved her pack through first, uttering just about every dirty word she knew. She untied the flannel around her waist and tossed that towards her bag. Then she knelt down and turned sideways. With a little shimmy of her shoulders, she was able to squeeze her titties through. But her ass wasn't as squishable as her chest. Sweat was beading up on her forehead as Carolina forced one half of her ass through. The second half was easier. She was going to be bruised. And at one point she was quite certain that the corner of the metal gate actually entered her body. But finally she was able to collapse in the driveway on the other side of the gate.
"I think that gate owes me dinner," Carolina huffed, scooting further away from the walkers that were gathering outside.
Entering the house proved much easier than entering the property. One of the windows on the wrap around porch level was unlocked. Michonne cut the screen with her sword and they climbed in one after the other. Both of them were doing their best to keep an eye out for any possible danger. But it was hard not to be distracted by the interior of the house. The place was really more palace than house, with high vaulted ceilings and skillfully painted murals on the walls. The click of their boots echoed off the marble floors, making the place seem even more eerily empty than it was.
They crept through the place until they found the kitchen. Carolina glanced at Michonne before both of them set their bags down and began searching through the cabinets and drawers. Anything edible was pulled out and set on the fancy granite countertops. Carolina paused her search once she found a jar of peanut butter and a sleeve of crackers. It struck her as sort of funny that people this rich still ate peanut butter and crackers, just like everyone else. Carolina plunked her butt down on a padded barstool with a butter knife, smearing peanut butter on the crackers before she crammed them into her mouth. Crumbs were sprinkling down the front of her shirt but she was too hungry to care.
"Oh! Michonne! Don't open that I think it's the…"
Carolina spoke too late. Michonne already had the tall cabinet door that concealed the refrigerator swung partially open. She snapped it shut in a hurry. But that didn't stop her from getting a strong whiff of the rotting food inside the stale airtight box. Michonne turned, leaning over the sink until she got her gag reflex under control. She had better luck with the next hidden door she tried. It popped open to reveal a large fully stocked pantry. Pulling out the choicest snacking items, she settled down onto the barstool next to Carolina's and ripped open a bag of barbecue chips.
"In a house this big, there's got to be a whole room full of wine somewhere," Carolina said, rising from her seat and brushing the crumbs off her shirt once her belly was full of peanut butter and snack food. "Let's go find it."
After a quick sweep of the house, the wine cellar was located on the ground level near a large set of glass patio doors that led out to the inground pool area. Carolina stepped inside, her brows furrowing together. Unlike the rest of the house, the wine cellar was a bit of a mess. There was glass scattered across the marble floor. Empty wine bottles were gathered in a jumbled pile on the floor in the corner.
"Looks like someone's been here," Michonne said, poking at the discarded bottles with the tip of her sword.
"Maybe it was the biter we saw out by the gate," Carolina suggested. "If someone was holed up here, seems like the food in the kitchen would be gone."
Michonne nodded her agreement. But Carolina guessed she was keeping her eyes and ears more open than before just in case they weren't as alone in the place as they thought. Ignoring the mess on the floor, they began to poke through the massive wine collection. Neither of them knew much about wine. So they sifted through the bottles, making a game of seeing who could find the one with the oldest date on it. Michonne won, pulling out a bottle of something called Cheval Blanc from 1961. Carolina's drink of choice wasn't as old, but it was expensive champagne that was bottled the year she was born. So she still felt like a winner even though she technically lost at their silly adult version of an easter egg hunt.
With Carolina running on a three day empty stomach and Michonne not being much of a drinker even before the turn, it didn't take long before they were both halfway to plastered and pawing through the previous owner's giant walk through closet. Michonne's taste in fashion was as eclectic as her sense of humor. Carolina sipped her wine, laughing herself silly as she watched the woman preen in front of the mirror looking like a giant purple tulle cupcake.
"Maybe you should bring that back with us and wear it for Tyreese," Carolina teased.
Michone turned, glaring at her. The supremely pissed off look on her face in combination with the ridiculous ballerina gown she was wearing sent Carolina off into another round of laughter.
"Was the dick that bad?," Carolina giggled. Michonne was acting like Tyreese was the biggest pain in the ass ever. But Carolina had a feeling she'd change her tune in a hurry if she caught anyone else sniffing around the man. "You know, he's kinda cute," Carolina said, her face lighting up into a mischievous smile. "If you're not interested, maybe I'll take him for a test drive." For emphasis, Carolina twirled her hand above her head like she was swinging an invisible lasso and swiveled her hips.
Carolina squealed as Michonne began to advance towards her. She turned, dropping her glass and spilling red wine on the expensive cream colored carpet as she ran across the bedroom and leaped into the giant pile of discarded dresses on the bed. Michonne grabbed a pillow, giving Carolina a solid thwacking with it before she collapsed on the bed next to her.
"I'm just teasing," Carolina promised. "I'd never mess with a dude you were into. No dick is worth losing a friend." Carolina cringed, realizing once the words were out that she'd said the exact wrong thing. Michonne's expression turned dark as she leaned back into the pillows and tried to get her emotions under control. "Fuck. I'm sorry." Carolina cursed herself internally, wondering how it was even possible that she was able to stick her foot in her mouth so often. "I'm so sorry about what happened to Andrea. I know you cared about her."
"She made her choice," Michonne grumbled. She still looked somewhere between sad and angry. But that didn't stop Carolina from reaching across the rumpled fabric and pulling the other woman into a hug. They held on tight to each other for a while, both of them needing the comfort more than they thought. And even when Carolina released her grip on the other woman they stayed cuddled up together.
"The dick was good," Michonne finally admitted. "I just can't risk getting attached to someone like that." Carolina sighed, wiping at her eyes before the tears had a chance to pool up and spill over. "Sorry," Michonne said. "I know you just lost someone. I shouldn't have said that."
"We're a fine pair aren't we?," Carolina asked, laughing through the tears she was wiping away. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, reaching for the bottle of wine she left on the bedside table. There wasn't much left, but she took a few hard swings, saving half of what was left. Michonne took the bottle when Carolina handed it to her, polishing off the last of the wine before she threw the bottle at the wall. It exploded, sending drips of the dark wine and little bits of colored glass flying.
Both women were quiet as they relaxed back into the pile of dresses on the bed, lost in their own thoughts. Michonne was positioned slightly higher on the bed. And she reached over, playing and twisting with the long blonde strands of Carolina's hair. The texture was so opposite her own spongy curls, almost like dense cornsilk.
"You know I need details," Carolina said, tilting her chin back and staring up at the other woman. "You can't just say the dick was good…"
"Let's just say he's a giver," Michonne admitted, the blush in her cheeks obvious despite her dark complexion. Carolina guessed she was eager to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Because she quickly followed her reluctant admission with a question. "What about you? I thought you were going for a buy one redneck, get one free deal?"
Carolina sighed. "I think I fucked that up," she lamented. "It's sort of what I do."
Her entire adult life was one long string of failed relationships. After a while, she stopped even pretending to have feelings for the men she slept with. Messing with Daryl felt a bit like swimming in uncharted waters. Carolina couldn't even remember the last time someone gave her butterflies in her stomach. And forget butterflies, just thinking about Daryl was enough to make her feel the whole zoo.
Carolina closed her eyes, enjoying the soft tug on the roots of her hair as Michonne played with her hair. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, only that it was the first natural and truly restful sleep she'd had in what felt like ages. When she blinked her eyes open, her mouth was dry and the morning sun was streaming in through the windows. Michonne was still fast asleep, snoring softly with one arm tucked up under her pillow.
Carolina rolled away from her friend. She was in mid stretch of her arms when she realized they weren't alone in the room. If she wasn't so freaked out, Carolina might have recognized the man standing next to the bed as Bob, the field medic that Sasha fell for before he got his leg eaten off by cannibals. But at the moment, the man was only registering in her mind as a homeless looking creep that was standing over her, staring at her while she slept.
The blood curdling scream that came out of Carolina was not only enough to roust Michonne from a dead sleep, it also sent Bob stumbling backwards away from the bed. He put his hands up, stuttering and slurring his apologies. Michonne lurched from the bed, reaching for her sword. Unfortunately, she fell asleep in the giant purple ball gown she was prancing around in the night before. The fabric tangled up around her legs and instead of leaping ninja style from the bed, she fell flat on her face. Carolina heard the sound of fabric ripping as Bob continued to back up until his back was actually pressed against the wall.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Bob said. "I was just tryin' to figure out if you were real…"
"We're real," Carolina assured him. "I'm Carolina." She glanced back at Michonne, who was finally on her feet with her sword in her hands wearing what was left of her purple dress after she got done slashing at it. "That's Michonne."
Michonne moved forward around the corner of the bed until she and Carolina were standing next to each other. They exchanged glances, unsure of what to do with their interloper since he didn't seem to be much of a threat. Michonne was usually of the kill first and ask questions later mindset. But even she was having second thoughts about slashing down a man that hit his knees and surrendered after one look at her sword.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll go. I'm sorry. It's just been so long since I've seen another person. I …um …my name's Bob."
Carolina leaned in close to Michonne, speaking as quietly as she could. "If he wanted us dead, he could have killed us while we were sleeping." Michonne shrugged. She wasn't willing to trust the strange man. But she didn't see any need to kill him either. Not at the moment anyway.
"It's okay," Carolina said, moving slowly towards him until she was close enough to offer him her hand so he could use it to help himself back onto his feet. "You don't have to go. But if you wanna stay, I'll have to ask you a few questions first."
Bob lifted his shaking hand, putting it in hers and letting her haul him up onto his feet. From the way he was swaying, Carolina guessed he either started drinking early or drank late into the night. At least now we know who trashed up the wine cellar, she thought. Once he steadied himself, Bob nodded his head, indicating he was ready for whatever she wanted to ask him. Carolina cleared her throat and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear before she spoke.
"How many walkers have you killed?"