A few hours pass with nothing for me to do. I feel like everyone is watching me, waiting for me to give them an excuse to throw me out. I don't. Instead, making my way into C block.
As I yank the door shut behind me, I hear something I haven't heard since before the outbreak. A baby, crying.
A real bloody baby. Really bloody crying.
I slowly follow the sound around the corner to a giant open room, prison cells along its sidewall, their doors open, with curtains giving a vague sense of privacy. I look up and see more ajar cells connecting to a grated catwalk with people leaning against the railings, some in deep conversation while others are watching me with attentive gazes.
I wonder if I've finally lost my mind. Dropped in the woods, amongst the dried sticks and autumn leaves, never to be found.
But then I see it.
Beth, sitting on the steps leading to the upper cells, cradling a tiny infant in her arms. The rider on her right. Rick had told me her name is Michonne. He'd also introduced me to Beth when I first arrived. I approach them, tugging my ear with trepidation.
Michonne notices this and steps forward, putting herself between Beth and me. She smiles in greeting, but behind it, I can sense a tested vigilance. I stand there awkwardly, not sure if I should speak.
"Thanks," Michonne opens with, "for helping me."
"I missed."
"Maybe," She nods in agreement, still watching me with vigilance.
"But, you tried," she goes on. "Most people wouldn't."
I smile at the floor. There's another pause before Beth looks at me.
"She's Ricks," Beth tells me, "D'you wanna hold her?" motioning toward the baby with her blonde head. "Her name's Judith."
"C-could I?" I step forward. Michonne does too.
"Maybe it's best if-"
"I need to grab her some supper," Beth interjects, "unless you want to hold her again?"
She gives Michonne a knowing look, causing her to relent with a sigh, stepping back.
Beth approaches me, Judith fidgeting in her arms.
"So just take that hand an-"
"I got it," I tell her, taking the chubby-faced child from her.
"Done this before?"
I shrug, letting Judith play with my thumb.
It feels like the whole world melts away as I look into her soft and spirited blue eyes- a trait she shares with her brother and father. She looks back at me with an innocence I didn't believe still existed. Reaching up to me with her tiny hand and stealing a tear from my cheek.
With Beth gone, I look around C block, taking in my new home.
The walls are painted with a faded grey, which has, over the years, peeled to exhibit scarred concrete. I look up to the catwalk and notice Carl, who looks down at me with the same eyes looking up from Judith. He's watching through a narrowed stare. I feel as if he's deciding whether to trust me with his little sister, or leap at me from above and rip my head from my shoulders.
Beth returns with bottled formula and takes Judith, who's playing with a button on my flannel, trying desperately to fit it into her mouth as she's pulled away.
Beth gives me an extensive smile as she starts to feed Judith. I return it happily.
"Supper's in about an hour," Michonne tells me, her whole body far more relaxed now that I'm not holding the baby. "Don't miss it."
"Trust me. I won't."
When dinner time rolls around, I head to the courtyard kitchen, getting the extra venison Carol promised me, thanking her for it.
I scan the outdoor seating area for Karen but can't find her anywhere, Tyreese neither. I am about to sit at an empty table when I see Michonne wave to me from her table, Carl opposite her.
I sit down next to Carl, leaving a few inches between us.
Opposite me is an older man with tidy white hair and tanned leather suspenders.
"Nice to finally meet you, son," He tells me, through a thick Georgia accent, "I'm Hershel Greene."
He leans forward, giving me a firm handshake.
"Good to meet you too, sir."
I never call anyone sir, always thought it sounded dumb. Though, for some unknown reason, I decided that it will be in my best interest to use it for Hershel, as he stares at me through his bushy eyebrows. His smile warm.
The four of us eat and talk. Mostly just about how the community works and that I'll need to pull my weight if I want to stay.
After Michonne is sure that I understand, the conversation lightens up.
I ask where I'll be sleeping, and I can tell no one's thought about it. Michonne ponders for a moment, telling me new people usually go to D as it has the most space, but since the incident earlier that day, I'll have to bunk with someone in C block. She thinks about it for a moment then looks to Carl with a conceited grin.
"Carl," She purposefully startles him, as he'd stopped paying attention.
"Yeah..." he answers nervously, shifting his feet under the table.
"You haven't got a cellmate, right?"
Catching on, Carl looks at me for a brief moment.
"Sure," He says nonchalantly, "Noah can take the top bunk."
I thank him, slightly surprised by how friendly he's become in the last few hours.
We all begin chatting again. Hershel, jealously interrogating me on how I got an extra serving, to which I tap my nose, telling him that, "I have my ways." Everyone laughs at this, and for the first time in a while, I don't feel so alone.
Hershel tells me about the crops and how they'll be ready to harvest in a few days. I listen to him in a dreamy kind of way, like everything he says is impossible and more of a memory from when everything was normal.
Before I realise it's coming, I let out an immense yawn, trying to stifle it but only making it more obvious. I apologise.
"Tired?" Michonne asks me with raised eyebrows.
"Sorry," I apologise again, feeling my cheeks heating up.
"Carl?" She turns to him, "Do you want to turn in? Show Noah where he'll be sleeping."
Carl doesn't look amused by the game that Michonne is playing.
"It's still light out..."
"Carl..."
"But-"
"Carl."
"It's fine," I speak up, feeling frustrated at myself for yawning. "I'll find it. The big building with the 'C' on it, right?"
Michonne looked disappointed for some reason.
Hershel nods. "Just look for the cell that's spillin' with all the comic books," he chuckles.
"Thanks."
I knock my knee against Carl's as I get up. Half as a 'thank you,' the other half as a 'you're welcome.' He gives me a strange look as I stand.
Clearly, I'm not as good at socialising as I once was.
I find my way back to C block, dodging the scary cook from earlier, worried that she noticed my extra portions, as she approaches, spatula in hand.
I see David from earlier, who points me in the right direction, keeping to as few words as possible.
I pull back sheet after sheet. With no doors to knock on, I just hope that no one's home. Luckily everyone seems to still be at dinner since the three wrong cells I check are empty.
Finally, I pull back a sheeted door to see that I'm in the right cell.
Hershel wasn't wrong.
Comic litter the floor. Splash pages showing graphic fights while others display dramatic speech bubbles full of made-up words like 'BLIFF' and 'WHAM.'
I clear comics and clothes off the top bunk, putting them on a crooked side table neater than I found them, before climbing the bars of the bunk bed and sprawling out across the creaky cot.
I thought sleep would come soon after my head hit the pillow, but in fact, it's the opposite. I lie on the top bunk with my head whirling, filled with thoughts of kind people and clean showers, extra portions, and dramatic speech bubbles.
The dim light coming from the atrium is soon replaced by lanterns and people saying goodnight. The light gets brighter as the cell's privacy curtain is pulled back and Carl enters the room.
I keep still. My eyes on the ceiling as I listen to him stumble around in the darkness, trying to change his clothes.
I hear him climb into the bed below me.
Silence.
"What were your answers?"
His question startles me. Minutes of silence have passed since he arrived.
"To what?"
"The three questions."
"Oh, um. Lots, to the first question. None, to the second question... and because I just haven't was the third."
His silence worries me.
"Are those the wrong answers?"
"That's up to you." He tells me.
Everything goes quiet again. I hate it.
"Got a job yet?" He asks, breaking the stillness.
"No..."
"You should."
"How do I get one?"
"Jus' volunteer when the opportunity comes up."
Once again, silence fills my ears, a slight ringing from the darkness.
"What was going on with you and Michonne earlier?"
I can hear him shuffling around beneath me. I think he's going to ignore me when-
"She wants me to make friends," His answer is blunt.
"Why did you tell the others that you trust me?" I blurt out.
"Because I do."
"Yeah, but why?"
I hear him shrug under his sheets.
"Judith likes you."
"Did she tell you that?" I ask with a grin.
"Night' Noah."
