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It felt so good to be back in something resembling civilization. A real table with a tablecloth. Cooked food. Wine. Good conversation. Laughter.
Carol felt herself relaxing, felt the fear that had hovered near her for so long loosen its tight band around her chest. Not just from the food, their first decent meal in days, but also from the solid walls and the even more solid earth that kept them safe here, deep in the ground, far from the nightmare going on outside … and from the man in charge. Dr. Jenner was a quiet man, clearly saddened by his experiences, by the loss of his colleagues and by the CDC's inability to stop what had happened to the world, but he also seemed competent. Certain of himself. Sure in his knowledge. Rick Grimes was a bit that way, but Rick was still flailing, trying to determine what was best. Dr. Jenner appeared to know what he was doing.
Taking another sip of wine, Carol touched the top of Sophia's head, reassuring herself that her daughter would be safe here, and she leaned back in her seat.
Daryl was trying to get along with these assholes. He really was. He'd come along with them to the CDC, this crazy road trip, because it sounded like it made sense to come here. If these people didn't know what was what, maybe nobody did.
Now here they were in the basement of this empty building, with this guy not telling them everything he knew, Daryl could see it in him, and it was all just like before the world ended. The smart people, the rich ones, the educated ones, all laughing around the table. Daryl tried to be one of them, but he wasn't. Every word out of his mouth reminded him he wasn't. What the hell was he doing here with these people? He could be out there, on his own, making a safe place for himself, not here having to rely on people who didn't know how to live in the world as it was now.
He drank some more, but cautiously—liquor had never been his friend. It would only make him feel better for so long before he became the asshole, and he didn't want that.
It was almost a relief when Shane tried to be top dog, facing off with Rick about the emptiness of the CDC. Daryl knew about Shane and Rick's wife; they all did. Everyone but Rick, by the looks of it. Couldn't blame the wife for not owning up to what she'd been doing, but if she didn't, Shane's jealousy was going to cause a lot of problems before long. Maybe already had, Daryl thought, as the dinner ended in silence and sideways looks instead of the laughter it had started with.
Dr. Jenner led them down the hall, showing them rooms they could sleep in and offering the use of a rec room for the kids. Carol was grateful for that—they hadn't had the chance to play and have fun and really be children in far too long.
It was wonderful to shower and be clean again. Carol and Sophia showered together, keeping the water lukewarm as the doctor had asked. Based on the blissful moans from some of the other showers, it didn't sound like the rest of the group had done the same. She supposed she couldn't blame them. Still—soap and running water by themselves were lovely, and Carol felt refreshed once she was clean and dried off. Sophia was smiling again, and she loved to see that.
In the rec room, Carol found books, and the kids played checkers. When she stood up and called for bedtime, she could almost believe this was just a nice hotel. Was this the way it would be from now on, safe here in the basement? She supposed the food would run out eventually, maybe the generators, but surely by then someone would have stopped what was going on outside. If they could just hold on a little longer, just stay here, maybe a few weeks, or a few months … surely the world would come back. Carol hadn't believed that before, but now, clean and full in this light, safe space, she could believe there would someday be more to life than fear and the bare minimum of survival.
As she settled down in bed with Sophia next to her, listening to her little girl's breath slow and deepen and even, she thought how blissful it would be to sleep, for once, without waking at every sound outside. Without clutching her girl close to make sure nothing got at her. Maybe even without the nightmares that had both Carol and Sophia waking multiple times every night.
A person could only hope, she thought, and drifted off to sleep smiling.
Daryl let the others use the showers first, staying out of their way while they sang and washed and settled in for bed. They were all so happy here, feeling so safe.
But not him. This felt wrong to him. The walls were practically closing in on him, smothering him, shutting out all the air. What if the generator failed? What if the dead managed to get in upstairs and got down here somehow? They'd all be sitting ducks.
He'd have felt better if he could move around the outside, make sure everything was safe.
For now, he drank the wine, he took the shower—which was nice, but pretty cold. Everyone else had gone through most of the hot water—and he lay down on the clean sheets on the couch, but he had a hard time going to sleep in the artificial silence. If they had to be here long, he wasn't sure he could make it. Maybe in the morning he'd ask that doctor if he could get out if he needed to.
This, he thought, right on the edge of a fitful sleep, was no place for a Dixon.