Chapter Two
Reclaimed
When they returned to camp, Dale was the first to acknowledge their approach. His arm waved high in the distance atop an old motorhome. A long rifle hanged from a strap on his shoulder. A pair of binoculars at his chest.
Laini waved back. Her lips curled to a small smile.
Out the corner of her eye, she saw Shane shake his head a little. A tongue stuck to the inside of his cheek. A sharper crunch to the gravel beneath their feet.
"Things alright?" Dale called when they were in earshot.
Shane grumbled. He hurried to the ladder that climbed to the top of the RV. "Everything's fine, Dale."
The way Shane had bolted after her probably left the camp wondering. It was not his way to abandon his role. The moment they all stepped off the highway together to watch the city be eviscerated by army jets, he took command of the wandering horde of lost survivors, making the camp what it was, with water and as many amenities as they could muster without being too close to populated areas.
They were lucky to search the highway for supplies left in cars. It gave them a nice jump start on building their camp.
Many of the survivors were incredible people. Helpful, resourceful, and unafraid to bond. Some, however, were the exception. Two brothers named Merle and Daryl were unpleasant. Their hick accents ran thick, as did the venom on their tongues if either were tempted to anger by the slightest provocation. Shane being their trigger with his idiotic sheriff's cap and condescending tone when it came to the pair. It was obvious they were not the type to respect law enforcement.
Not that she blamed them either. Sometimes she was met with a side of Shane she was not fond of. The way he thrived on a built-up sense of power by his badge. It'd been the cause of much upset in her decision to continue hooking up, back when there were little things to consider like how she would tell her friends she was actively seeing a sheriff's deputy, not the sharpening of weapons and never going to sleep without a perimeter check.
The Dixon's, shockingly, were not the most uncomfortable to be around. Even the younger brother seemed unsteady near Ed Peletier, a man there with his wife and young daughter, who only ever seemed to yell as his family and treat them as dogs while he reclined in a seat and offered nothing but a snide comment.
Laini eyed the man at his campsite in his folding chair with a few fingers tucked inside the waist of his jeans as his wife slaved over a blaring fire with large pots steaming in her face. Poor Carol. Her body was thin and frail. She gripped the large spoon tightly, with effort, to stir the water until it reached the peak of its boil for ten minutes.
Ed just watched. He made no move to help. A shred of compassion, absent on the man's face.
"Lain," Shane's voice called.
She raised her focus to the top of the RV.
"Go on and fetch my canteen out the tent, will you?"
He squatted on the edge of the RV when she returned. Her toes went rigid as she raised it high enough for him to reach.
"Thank you, baby girl." Shane said. He glanced over his shoulder to check Dale's position. "We've talked about this. Just stay away from them."
Her hands drifted to her hips. "It isn't right."
"Right." He shook his head. "All right in the world is gone. It is everyone for themselves now. And as long as he is leavin' everyone else be, I expect him to be left alone."
Laini glared up against the sun at the dark shadow of a man she truly despised for putting that distinction on her like a god damn simpleton. She could see that the world was different. But it shouldn't have mattered. Refugees of society or not, they were still human. They had to stand for something.
"Hey. Don't look at me like that. I've got enough on my plate with half our able-bodied camp in that city right now. I can't be throwin' anyone out. Even if he is a bastard." His eyes drifted upward to the man who now barked at Carol to fetch him a portion of the reserved rations. The slender woman jumped at the sound of his voice. She softly explained the rations were for everyone. Ed did not like the answer. He said something that Laini couldn't make out, and whatever it was, got Carol hopping over to fetch it for him. "Who knows. One day, he might be useful."
"For what?" She scowled. "To show you how to slap me around without leaving a bruise."
His face soured. A wretched look as he took a long swallow of water from his black canteen.
Admittedly, her mood was still foul. She felt connected with Shane, but still unconvinced something did not splinter between them in the name of Lori Grimes.
Laini glanced across the camp to the woman bent over a tub. Her hands were lathered in soap as she scrubbed at the breakfast dishes with vigor. Her forehead went red with exertion. It wrinkled in four thick lines. It was rare that she showed much emotion besides the occasional dour twist of her lips into a dissatisfied scowl. Everything about the women echoed back nothingness.
Shane was on watch. Laini trudged up through the long weeds of the outskirts of the camp until she stumbled upon a middle-aged man in a trucker hat with a shaggy dark brown beard. He kneeled. His fingers twisted between the strands of line that was the perimeter line.
The perimeter line encompassed the camp apart from the gravel road. It was their defense against the endless dark of the national park. Things like bells and empty cans and whatever else they had were tied to the line as an alert to signal there were intruders on the edge of the safety.
Jim was a mechanic by trade, often helping Dale at the RV, but he took to the perimeter fence religiously.
She approached slow. She let her feet fall harder as not to surprise him.
He squinted against the sun as he looked to her face. "Something I can help you with?"
"The opposite," she answered. "Thought I might help you out here."
The hat was pulled from his head. A light bald spot shined at the very top of his head. He wiped his brow with a sleeve before the hat was replaced.
"I don't mind working it myself."
Camp was full of people who liked to chat. With the spiteful taste on her tongue, it was only a matter of time before she spilled her suspicions to someone who had no business knowing them.
She sighed. "I won't be in the way."
Jim said nothing. He waited a moment, focused on the knot he retied on a discarded tin can. The paper wrapping was half shredded. Once the contents of green beans fed their bellies, now it protected them from the dead.
His head hesitantly nodded. He moved over on the line. "Anything loose. Retie. And make sure the ground line isn't touching the ground. Won't do any good then."
They fell in a quiet routine. She took the lower line since it was easier for her to bend over. It ate up a great part of their afternoon, mending that line. The sun's heat moved over their heads and now shined at their backs as the end neared.
The sounds of camp motions blurred the silence. Jim said nothing. She said the same.
Work was tedious. It numbed the mind. The same actions between their fingers over and over. The reprieve of it was enlightening.
The sounds of people being eaten alive or torn apart ceased to break through that blanket as she worked. Everything about the epidemic had overtaken her mind. Endless death. Those lost to fevers or bitten by others, before the world understood what it meant, and the horror that followed…she wished for miles of perimeter line to mend.
Once he was done with his watch, Shane stepped down through the camp. He checked on operations. The rations were counted, and the water level checked. There were endless little tasks like laundry, dishes, tents and blankets, sorting equipment and supplies, and the constant inspection of weapons.
The camp was seriously low on defensive items. Rick had brought guns. There was ammo, but a limited number. It was unwise to use a shotgun when a knife could do.
Still, the risk was too great to do away completely. Most of the camp was unable to fight. They were defenseless. T-Dog had brought a van full of elderly and disabled people from his church when the CDC announced a safe zone in the city. He was stranded on the highway just the same as the rest of them when the military was overrun. Thus, there were a fair bit of people unable to ward in the fight against the dead.
The shotgun hanged from Shane's shoulder as he did his camp rounds. She heard his voice speak to Carol. It was calm and reassuring that she did a great job of sanitizing their drinking water. He did it in such a way that felt protective, like a show for her rotten husband to remember.
He next wandered around to the row of tents that were T-Dog's people. He asked after their water and made sure they'd been drinking enough in the heat.
Their meek voices were calm mewls to his.
Laini never guessed that a man as proud and rash as Shane would be a leader the way that he was. Constant and kind? Those were two words no one would use to describe the man. Not those who'd known him before.
Charming, though, he was. That was the way he'd gotten her. He never ceased with compliments and outward flirts in that charming, half-southern Kentucky drawl. Of course, a catch of his smirk had her wanting to match the energy.
It was an experiment. All her friends said to leave the small-town cop alone. She'd considered it a challenge.
The next time he made a pass that was brazen and flirty at the same time, she used the same energy back at him with an even more suggestive tone. The expected result was to enrage the small, bruised ego inside the man to show just what an ass he was. That was what she thought would happen. She'd primed herself for a large climax of his meltdown and her satisfaction to peak with breaking the facade.
Did Shane ever do what one expected of him? Hell no.
It turned the man on.
Surprise, surprise.
The end of the perimeter line was in sight. Jim and Laini were ready to be done. They'd started stopping to stretch out their fingers and back. Slow dull aches lived in both.
They were close enough to the camp now. Most everyone could see the pair as they worked. No one volunteered to finish it as it was a job that everyone seemed to dislike as tiring work. Shane must've caught a glance during his rounds. He marched up through the soft treaded grass with intent.
Air turned electric whenever he came around. An intensity that curled against the bones.
"How's that perimeter wire there, Jim?"
"Alright."
"Caught any snags?"
Jim paused and looked up from his knelt position. His head tilted to the side. "Like, something walked into it?"
There was a look of seriousness on Shane's face that read clear: he wanted to make sure he hadn't missed anything.
If the safety of camp was compromised, they'd have to leave.
"Naw. Naw, nothing like that," Jim answered. "Wind knocks the ties loose sometimes. That's all."
"You just let me know if there is."
It brought tension to all their throats to think a walker might actually tumble into their camp, into their wire, and not be found immediately.
They remained in an awkward limbo as Shane remained close to the two bent at the ground. Nothing was said. A strained look came down his nose that said enough. Jim leaned over and mumbled that he could handle the rest of the mending himself.
She flashed a glare at Shane as she bid Jim goodbye.
"Real nice, Shane," she muttered under her breath as she trudged back toward camp.
He was hot on her heels once again. "You looked like you could use a break."
A break. Ha.
She stomped her feet up to the tent. The shared tent, with the jackass himself. Her boots were kicked across the length of the expansive tent. It was filled with the contents of Shane's supply he'd prepared. There was even a cot he'd managed to snag before things truly went to hell. It was where they'd spent all their nights huddled together in the midst of this disaster.
Her palms dragged down her cheeks.
Shane entered the tent in a flurry of heat. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. He buried his nose into the flesh of her neck, flushing their bodies, all too similar to the way they'd fucked out in the woods earlier.
The hold was tight on her waist, the anchor to him that never left.
"You didn't have to do that. I don't need special treatment from you or anybody. They'll start to see me weak."
A large gust of air exited his lungs against her neck. His body swayed hers. Their hips together, aligned in the smooth motion.
"You know I just love seeing you bent over like that," his lips murmured against her skin. "I can't help myself."
"Mmmm. All sweaty and gross." Her throat betrayed a chuckle. "What isn't to like about that."
Her fingers dragged down the length of his arms against her body, gently teasing his flesh, touching it gently and twisting with the twists in the surface.
Warmth greeted her ear. It brushed by lightly, then intense as Shane's voice melted through the plump moisture of his lips. "You need a bath later. Is that what you're telling me, baby?"
The sound purred from his chest.
Laini stuck her tongue in her cheek. "Depends."
"On what?" He whispered deeper in her ear.
"If you're going to wash me from head to toe or if I'll have to do it myself."
He let out an excited groan. "Oh, baby. You don't have to ask me twice. I'll clean you up real nice. Just like I did at home for you. Remember? That little bubble bath of ours…"
"I don't think we counted as clean after that."
A soft chuckled exited their lips at the same time. For how small of a tub he had, it managed to fit them both in a twisted pretzel. Which neither complained about.
Shane's hands drifted higher on his chest, away from her waist. His fingers toyed with the bottom wire of her bra. "My bathroom smelled like bubbles for two weeks after."
"And so did your uniform," she cheekily added.
They'd been so lost in their grinning giddiness that the sound of footsteps up to their personal tent had escaped their notice. The tent flap was pulled down. Not that it blocked out shadows if the light was right. It alluded to privacy which lacked in cramped camp they all lived in.
He'd been biting playfully at her ear lobe when a voice suddenly called out his name.
The moment screeched to a halt.
Shane's arms loosened ever so slight. Laini stepped out of their hold, arms crossed against her chest and a hollow look of disappointment crawled to her eyes. It refused to leave her body, that emotion, as she turned to behold the man she cared for so stricken by another woman's voice.
He gave an exasperated look. "What is it?" He called loudly.
"There's trouble in Atlanta. Come quick. It's on the radio. I think – I think they're trapped."
Lori waited for Shane to exit the tent and followed him back toward Dale's motorhome where the radio was set up, the crackling station loud enough for camp to hear. Their pace was fast. She struggled to catch up on the way to listen to the news. Her friends were in Atlanta, too, not just Shane's. It was the first group they'd sent into the city. None of them expected things to go wrong.
There was Glenn's excited voice. It cut in and out. The signal was stretched to its limit.
Lori stood with her hands on her hips as she listened. A dish towel hung from her shoulder. It moved in the breeze, as did the long limp length of her brown hair.
Next to the radio was Dale and Shane. They both knelt close, listening.
Rick's voice splintered through the static. It reported their condition. A swarm of zombies surrounded the building they were in, and they were looking for alternative exits.
A small gasp echoed sadly out of a young woman's chest. She was only a few years younger than Laini, but appeared far more. Amy clasped her hands over her mouth. "My sister," she whispered with a broken breath.
The radio cut to silence. Nothing went through.
Shane tried to hail them back. Over and over he spoke into the mouth piece with the answer of empty static the only sound back.
A poor boy whimpered into his mother's hip as she stood there, staring blankly at the radio. Her slender arm gripped the boy's head. It kept him close.
Her large brown eyes looked to Shane. "Well? What are you going to do?"
"We cannot afford to split ourselves any thinner," Shane answered with a pained tone.
"What about Rick?"
"He knew what he was doing when he went on the run."
Lori's arms suddenly crossed. "You're going to let your best friend just die out there. You aren't going to help at all?"
It was all she could hear. Laini turned on toe and marched back to the tent. Her stomach churned with disgust.
What the hell was she doing here?