It had been a month since the farm. It had been a month of them being on the road. It was difficoult, it was scary.
It was nothing like the quarry. Now, the walkers were everywhere; there was no safe place.
"Beth, help me with these," she'd say to the youngest of the Greene's girls as she set up the alarm like she had done only four months before.
It seemed so long ago.
They all did their part. They had set up shifts so that someone was always kept on guard. They all went on runs, led mainly by Rick, Daryl, or Glenn, and they had all learned how to shoot with guns.
"I don't like guns," Nicki muttered one night, as T-Dog and Glenn took guard. They should have slept, but it took work. Every sound made them jump, even the sound of the wind had become scary.
"They are loud, aren't they?" Sarah asked, trying to use a light-hearted tone. She was trying to shield her sister as much as possible. Still, she was not sure she was doing a great job at that, "I don't like it too," she admitted after a moment of silence, as her hand moved to touch the metal of the weapon, "But we need to defend ourself, and you need something else in case you finish all of your arrows."
When they had left the farm, Nicki had only five arrows with her, and it took them ten days to find others.
"Daryl said he will help me make new arrows," Nicki said and Sarah's eyes moved towards where the man was sleeping. He was lying down a few feet from them, and his back was facing Sarah.
"Has he?" She asked trying to hide a little smile.
"Yeah," Nicki answered, "I think he noticed how uncomfortable I am with a gun." Sarah was grateful to the man. She didn't like to see her little sister with a gun, especially knowing that Nicki wasn't eager to hold one herself.
"Thank you," she said to the man the following morning as they were scavenging one of the shops of a little town they had come across.
"About what?" He asked with a little frown, but there was no harshness in his voice.
"For helping Nicki," Sarah answered as she took some bandaid from a shelf, noticing how Daryl bit the side of his lips, "About making some arrows, Nicki really appreciates it. And so do I."
Daryl shrugged his shoulders as he moved towards the shelf next to her to take some bandages.
"It's nothin'," he muttered, but Sarah shook her head.
"You always say that, but it's not true," she said with a smile, "I'm thankful for everything you do," he turned observing her, blinking his eyes in silence. His gaze made her blush, but before she could say anything they heard a noise from the back of the shop.
Sarah's body went cold as she turned towards the sound, "Daryl," she muttered when the man put himself before her with his crossbow in hand.
"Stay here," he whispered before heading towards the back of the shop. Sarah's hand moved to her knife as she watched Daryl disappear behind the shelves. What was it? Was it a walker? Only one or more? Daryl had told her to stay back, but what if there were more than one walker? What if he needed help?
Her hand clenched around her knife bringing it up against her chest. She hated it, she hated that fear, she hated the feeling of standing there, afraid, waiting for a monster to eat her. She had seen that happen, too many times to forget or to become used to that fear.
Suddenly, she heard a growling from her left and turned as fast as she could to see a walker heading in her direction. She let out a shaky breath, knowing that she could not scream, if there were two walkers, there could be more, and she could not make any noise, so she could not use the gun.
Her hands trembled as she saw it getting closer; she had to wait for it to come closer if she had to use the knife.
Her mind went to Nicki. She could not die; her sister was waiting for her, and she could not leave her sister alone; they had already lost so many important people, and she didn't want to be added to the list.
Observing the monster, she saw that it was slow. Were they always so slow? He was limping and growling, but she, indeed, was faster, and that gave her courage.
When he got close, Sarah looked at the walker; he seemed to be the body of a young boy, probably he was working part-time when he broke through. She wondered what had happened to him, if he thought about his parents if he had someone that he loved and loved him, and if they were still alive, hoping that he'd come back. But he would never…
She held the knife, reaching out to put her hand on the walker's shoulder to keep it at a distance, and then she moved her hand swiftly, piercing through his forehead with the blade of her weapon. The walker went limp, but Sarah tried to help it with the fall, slowly putting him down and kneeling next to him.
Her eyes traveled down to the name tag on his chest, 'Peter.'
"I'm so sorry, Peter," she muttered.
"Sarah!" Daryl's voice came from behind her, and suddenly, she heard him drop to his knees next to her, taking her by the shoulders. The movement made her look at him, who was observing her body, with wide and worried eyes.
"Ya alrigh'?" He asked, worried, "Ya bit?"
"I'm fine," Sarah answered, trying to make him look at her, "Daryl, I'm fine," she assured, putting her hands on his chest. The man took a deep breath, finally relaxing under her touch.
"I thought…"
"I'm fine," she repeated, locking eyes with him, who nodded his head.
"We have ta go," he said, standing up, reaching out a hand for her to take, "Two walkers already, better not push our luck," he finished pulling her up on her feet.
"Yeah, you're right," she said.
Every day seemed the exact same of the one before. They woke up and got inside their cars, and they traveled until they found the next place where they could find food, gas, weapons, or shelter. But no place was safe anymore. The walkers were everywhere, inside every building. They were so far from Atalanta now, but the monsters had walked for miles and miles. And they kept walking. And killing.
Every night seemed endless. They were not safe. No one was ever safe. And not only because if the walkers. The memory of Randall and his group came into Sarah's mind often as she observed the dark trees. What if someone like that was close and would have found them? They could not be outside for so long. They need a place. But will they ever find it? Did it even existed? A safe place, where they could rest, sleep... live...