Chapter Three
Safeties Comfort Brings the Minds Questions
There was only one casualty.
Merle Dixon was lost in the city; the rest returned to their families.
Miranda wept as she held her husband called Morales close. She'd already mourned for his loss before his return. It fueled the rest of the survivors to cry. Amy and Andrea held each other in a tight embrace. Silent tears fell down their cheeks. They went all shiny, but still smiled.
Rick, of course, returned. Carl was emotional and Lori just gave him a hug. Her face was the wide-eyed blankness that set Laini's skin on edge. It only worsened when Shane was involved in embracing his best friend and getting a status report.
Old habits, she supposed.
Jacqui and T-Dog were back. Their happy faces helped diminish the melancholy over camp.
The group had one person around her age that truly had no one else. A similar woe in the depth of their chests that no one quite understood: Glenn. He was a college kid, same as her, and had been a transplant to the area when the epidemic started. People were glad to see him return. He was a valuable resource. Glenn had the legs of a track star. There was no one better. Quick and quiet. The dead hardly noticed when he was around, grabbing supplies, searching, barely sparing a breath.
He was just the lifeline they all needed.
Laini approached Glenn with a smile. "Welcome back. Heard it was a close call."
He loosed a shaky breath. "Too close."
Before the run, he'd admitted that he disliked the idea of bringing people with him. In hindsight, his instincts were right.
"At least you made it back," she pointed out.
"Barely." He leaned forward. "Damn Merle got them riled. Had them banging at the doors. The building's lost now. Full of them. But, we made it out."
She nodded solemnly. "You'll have to scout a new location."
"Yeah. Far away. Merle's action attracted so many. I'll have to move farther out to find a place quiet enough."
It was Glenn's loss. He'd been doing recon and selecting his safe zones since the start of the camp. It was his hard work that was now lost, thanks to Merle Dixon's ass.
Laini frowned. "Did you at least get the things you needed?"
Her eyes glanced around to Shane, who was still absorbed in the Rick and Lori bubble. It clenched her stomach tight. So tight.
"Not as much food as we'd hoped," Glenn admitted. Her attention turned back to the guy in front of her. His eyes dropped to his feet. "Grabbed some supplies we need. Knives. Clothes. Sleeping bags."
It was loss enough. There was no need to commiserate over what wasn't found.
"Good. We need those." She unlaced her arms from her chest. "I'll pass them out."
Glenn and Laini handed over the sleeping bags to those who were in need of them. Lots of the elderly hadn't the access to grab supplies before T-Dog loaded them onto the church van. He'd had only a few things he got his hands on before the thoughts of saving as many people came to his mind.
T checked on all of his fellow brethren and helped a few unload their new blankets from the packages.
Although it was small, they'd grabbed a hatchet for chopping wood. There was only one large ax in camp. Dale had camped out of his motorhome with the thought of surviving off the land where he went. It was the only ax capable of splitting the large logs.
"Maybe for small logs?" Glenn shrugged. His eyes were downturned as he looked at the blade compared to the large ax leaning against the RV's side.
"Better than nothing." Her fingers ran slowly across the smooth edge. "We can't chop wood with our fingers."
"These are for you guys."
A bundle of items was thrust into her arms.
"What's this?" She held the bundle like it was an infant. It made it all the more confusing, as she never held a child before.
"Shane, um, said you didn't like the tactical pants he brought, so I got you – er – stretchy ones." He blushed. "He said that's what you'd like. And, um, a knife and some gum. I couldn't find much of it, but a couple packs. And…" He started to search around the back of the cube truck. "Oh. This."
It was a square box. A piece of cellophane exposed the contents inside.
A loofah.
Her stomach tightened once again. It was not worth losing someone over these small ridiculous things, especially losing an entire safe building to scavenge through. However, it gave her a small twinkling piece of glee to have something as simple as pants that didn't hug her thighs and ass with a suffocating grip, too tight at the crotch with a weird bunching that heaved her buttons upward like an erection.
Her hips shifted. "Um, thanks, Glenn. You didn't have to do this for me."
"If there had been more food, I wouldn't have."
She nodded. A small smile on her lips as she held the things close. "Perfect."
Glenn continued to sort through the rest of the supplies as she walked back to her tent to put away the loot. They were tossed onto the cot. She couldn't focus on housekeeping. Supper was nearing.
Carol liked to be camp cook. She had the best experience with cooking over an open fire. Laini mostly did prep: opened cans, dealt with the waste (though they usually wasted nothing).
The coals were perfect. They glowed orange between their white ashes.
The woman struggled with the cooking pot. Her slender arms slumped at the weight as she swung the handle with both hands.
"Let me get that." Her hands offered out to Carol's struggle.
Beet red coloring spread across Carol's face. The exertion, being so small, was enough to leave her drained.
Bits of animal fat were thrown into the large pot. It took a minute, but it gradually went from white to translucent on the bottom. It coated the pot with a sheen. There were bits of chopped meat on a nearby cutting board.
Heavy breaths left Carol's mouth as she tossed the last of the mystery meat into the pot.
"Maybe you should sit down," Laini said. She grabbed a nearby bottle of water. "Here. You look like you need some."
"Oh." Carol's soft voice was so meager. Her hand waved the suggestion away. "I'm fine."
She was not fine. The pallid color of her face was now changed to blooming shades of pink, then red. Protocol for a rapid change in a person's coloring after a day in the heat was water, rest and cool. The end of the world put an end to that. But, heat stroke was still a large concern for them.
Camp depended on them all to function. Carol was integral. Her parts were the backbone that kept them going.
"Please. I insist. You chop those veggies up and tell me what to do. Just sit down. Right there. I'll do the rest."
It was obvious that the act of sitting made her nervous. Her eyes jumped around. There was no question as to what – or who – she searched for.
"What next, Carol?"
It kept the woman on track. She instructed step by step, handing Laini what utensil she'd need, and occasionally chopping up some foraged vegetables to toss inside.
Stew was often the meal of choice. It fueled them best. Between the water and the meat, it gave them fuller bellies at the end of the day.
Camp continued its business until the strength of the sun started to fade. It wound down their energy.
Then came the ritual of the camp gathering around a few small fires until their eyes couldn't remain open any longer. Makeshift chairs and folding chairs from the scavenged sports and outdoor depot formed circles around the flames.
Dishes were Lori's duty. She handed out clean bowls with pride.
Bowls were ladled with the steaming stew. Chucks of meat and veggies were clouded with seasoning. It aided their mouths in the swallow struggle at the unseemly texture of the meat, gristle and fat still intact.
Carol and Ed and Sophia sat around their own little fire, not much more than embers. Others of T-Dogs congregation had their own. It only lasted an hour or so before they retired to their tents to sleep.
The central fire held the majority of the camp. They gathered around a fire that barely breathed flames enough to reach their shins.
They'd all start out in the same spots as they ate. It went quiet as their bodies craved subsistence. The edge of starving blunted their tongues to care of taste. Only a few times was there the reminder of what things used to taste like before they were forced to eat what they found in no certain order.
Once she returned her bowl to the dirty dish tub, Shane snagged her wrist. It brought her down to his lap. She curled into the seat with her legs over the arm rest as he rested his forearm against her shins and the other wrapped around her back.
The warmth of the fire never compared to the heat of his chest. It was like a space heater. It warmed up through the layers of clothes into her own skin.
He reclined in his seat. His eyes captured with the twisting life of the flames.
There came a time in the night when Lori roused from her chair to announce it was time for Carl to hop to bed. Miranda followed suit; her children barely awake. Their bodies leaned against their parents, barely blinking as they stared at the fire. The women ushered their children to their designated tents.
For a short moment, Laini felt a pair of eyes on her. They burned against the side of her face. When she turned, there was nothing but darkness. No face. No eyes. Nothing.
Her head fell back to Shane's shoulder just as he stiffened in his seat. "Ed."
The thudding in her chest jumpstarted to a new pace. She lifted her head to see.
"Might want to rethink that log, Ed."
Meaning, take the log out of the campfire.
The man mumbled some response and waved a dismissive hand over at the command. It riled Shane enough to shift him out of his seat while deftly making sure Laini remained curled in the chair.
She watched the exchange intently. Their voices muttered in hushed tones. Her ears strained to hear what was being said.
"Just askin' him nicely, Delaney. That's all," Rick assured her.
Lori must have caught the exchange as she approached the campfire once more because she slid in her seat next to her husband and confidently said, "Nothing Shane can't handle."
"He's not superman," Laini retorted.
It earned a bemused – yes, bemused! – expression from the woman. Her fingers toyed with the small charm around her neck as she watched the interaction, too. "Could've fooled me."
The exchange was finished when Carol reached into the fire and pulled out the half-burned log. Her eyes fell as she gave a soft apology, no doubt on her husband's account. Shane gave a polite smile, looked to Sophia with the same smile and then wandered back to his friends.
She hadn't been listening to what the rest of the group was saying.
It was only when Shane's body returned underneath hers that she heard the words of T-Dog's mouth.
"I locked the door before we left," he said. "He's still up there."
Rick leaned forward. His stature rather rigid now. "What?"
"The key fell from my hand in the rush. I-I couldn't grab it in time. But I had time to chain the door locked."
Andrea shook her head. "All those walkers. There's no way he's alive."
"A stairwell that narrow," Glenn reasoned.
"No way enough of them could break that lock."
The former sheriff shook his head from his trance. "You're saying there's a chance he's still up there. Alive."
Laini pressed further into Shane's body. Her hand held onto his tightly atop her legs.
Merle was not a model citizen. She disliked the man tenfold. But, to sentence him to a death like that and leave his brother alone in a world that had already left so many wounded, searching for pieces of themselves. That was cruel.
Wind gusted up suddenly from the edge of the cliff side. The scent of falling water filled her nostrils. Trees and long grasses and water all swam in her mind. She loved the smell. It brought comforting memories despite there being nothing worthy of comfort now.
There was the question as to what kind of life this new world meant. If she managed to survive, how would she make her way?
Her college degree was useless. Graphic design rendered very little in real world application. Her technological prowess translated none to a machete-in-the-hand type community she stumbled into.
It was a casual shift inside. Questions. Oh, so many questions filtered through the immediate wall of safety since she'd been lulled into a false sense of serenity in the protection of the camp. With those guards all thrown weak, her own mind turned on itself.
Mom, Dad, Aletta, Camden, Quinnie. Domino and Buck, the dogs.
Home with the stupid front door that squeaked. The roar of an early morning lawnmower every Saturday like clockwork as the dogs barked like crazy at the windows. The scent of her mom's perfume. Cam's stupid dances with little Quinn trying to copy every motion. The hug of Aletta. Oh, that one she'd miss the most.
Sporadic urgency at the breakout prevented the idea of her family from puncturing her drive. All she saw was safety. The protection of a military safe zone in Atlanta. She'd been convinced that her family would be there. At the end, light at the back of a long, dark tunnel.
Watching the streets of Atlanta explode under military bombs still held that light, however dimmer, at the back of her mind.
Now, she felt the pressing weight of their absence. Their likely death. The cease of their existence.
Tears muddled her vision to watercolors as she excused herself from the group. Her feet neared the edge of the cliff. The rush off that empty space gave relief whilst its biting wind burned the insides of her lungs as she breathed it all in.
A young woman, states away from home, with a group of strangers that she barely knew and therefore couldn't trust, without promise of safety or way back to her own family.
She sucked in a shaky breath. Her eyes turned sensitive. Wind stung the few fallen tears across her cheeks.
"What the fuck is my life?" She asked herself. Almost in disbelief at the circumstance.
A guy she hooked up with was now her only chance at survival.
A cop. A man she'd known for less than four months.
Her lips betrayed a harsh chuckle at herself. Every woman's nightmare, this exact one. Trapped with a man unable to escape for the threat of death without a way to contact a person with a reasonable mind to assess how smart it was to in fact stick around with the man. Shane. Of all the men, Shane Walsh.
What did she even know about the man? Truly.
There was the question of his family. He'd mentioned his parents, but never revealed if they were living or dead. The same with siblings. It was implied he had some, somewhere. High school, career as a deputy, his life, all revolved around Rick.
Any normal woman would see it as a red flag. Hell, it was the biggest red flag.
'Saturdays are for the boys' types are walking red flags if the badge on his chest wasn't red enough.
Delaney Henderson stood on the true edge of an abyss with the black eyes of death looking straight to her soul with blaring alarms in her mind that only brought her feet closer to the edge in the promises of never seeing the bitter end of a walker's teeth. One quick fall down to the rocky bank of the quarry below, and all pain of life gone from her soul.
She never took stock in religion. There was no afterlife she believed with her whole heart. Still, she held out hope that it would show her loved ones, even if it was a short moment, to see their faces and know they were safe, too.
"You've been quiet tonight."
Her toes inched away from the edge. Her nostrils burned with another long sniff.
A hand landed on her shoulder. It gave a slight supportive squeeze before it dropped away.
"I just had to be the one who moved to Kentucky. Couldn't have stayed in North Carolina like my sisters." There was a foul bitterness to recall it now. "Had to do it on my own. Without any help. Couldn't do anything that was close to what they'd done."
"Sometimes that's what we need to do," Andrea replied. The sound of her voice carried on the wind as a light hum. It failed to break the whistle of the rising gusts.
"Now I'll never know…I'll never find them."
"You can't think about that. It's not the time," she said.
Laini snorted. "Easy for you to say." Back over near the fire sat a smaller, younger version of the woman beside her. A naïve woman with an excitable voice and doe eyes. Her two palms were raised to catch the flowing heat of the dying flames. "She's here with you. Somebody of your life."
Andrea shifted her hips back. Her hands slipped into the back pockets. There was a searching in her eyes as she stared out into the beyond. "You've got Shane," she finally answered.
The pair chuckled to themselves, as if the cruel irony was not lost on either.
"Yeah. I've got Shane, a guy I've known for all of three and a half months." Laini bit the inside of her bottom lip. "Not the best basis for an apocalypse."
The tone of the evening dropped. Silence fell long and deep across the trees. It weighed heavily against her chest.
Andrea pulled from the reverie of the black emptiness. "Things aren't like that anymore. Four months might feel like a lifetime. Especially out here. This group came together for the sake of survival. And it already feels like a family…We have to cling to who we got. And there are worse people to be with right now."
Laini tilted her head.
A sly grin crossed Andrea's thin mouth. "Tall, dark, handsome, a handful."
The point was agreed upon. Neither could argue with the raw magnetic pull of the man who suffered from an ego too big, but never broke under pressure.
There were worse things.
"Besides, the man can't take his eyes off you." Andrea flashed a knowing look before she retreated from the cliffs edge in favor of the fire's light with what precious thing was left: her sister.
Her footsteps crunched in the gravel in descending volume until they were lost to the cushion of grass.
Sometime later, arms wrapped around her body in a taut embrace. The wash of warmth through her chilled skin gave life to a spark. It twisted and coiled. His comforting breath, steady in his chest, calmed hers to match.
"You ready for that bath?" His voice hummed.
"No," she said suddenly ready to step away from the edge. "It's cold. Will you warm me up?"
A white burst of breath spread through the air with his soft hum of amusement. "Baby, kill me if I ever say no to that. I'll have lost my mind."