Chapter 7 – Fate and Folly
"Hey, girls," Rick Grimes greeted as he poked his head into the tent that Stevie and Sophia shared. He smiled fondly at them and got nowhere but didn't let their blank masks deter him. "The fish is about ready. Your mom sent me to get you."
"Thank you, Mr. Grimes," the pair chimed in perfect sync, in the sickly sweet, super creepy way that they'd practiced to elicit thoughts of The Shining in people they wanted to fuck with. Despite their four-year age difference, they looked enough alike to really nail the unsettling effect. (It probably helped that Stevie was short for her age and Sophia was tall for hers, leaving them pretty close in appearance, at least for the moment; Stevie had no illusions about her future gains (or lack thereof) in that department.)
It worked; Rick shivered reflexively and struggled to keep the stupid smile on his stupid face. "Sophia, maybe you can run on ahead?" he ask-ordered with the confidence of a man who was used to being obeyed without question because he was just such a nice guy. "I'd like a few minutes to talk to your sister, if that's alright."
Looking mutinous, the younger girl clung to Stevie's arm like it owed her alimony, but Stevie chuckled and nudged her and declared, "Go check on Gavin, Hazel, and Andre for me." After getting herself and all three of her new charges cleaned up and changed into non-gory clothes (although the mini-person wardrobe had been scant enough to have Hazel and Andre stuck with nothing but adult-size T-shirts turned nightgowns for the time being), she'd left the trio napping in the RV with Dale's blessing and with Bruno playing giant teddy bear. Trauma and upheaval had taken their toll, and the poor brats were still exhausted even after sleeping most of the ride back. "Bring them each a small plate, please," Stevie decided. "They're grieving and freaked out and overwhelmed, and subjecting them to a group meal probably wouldn't help. Tell them I'll be there soon."
Sophia huffed but obeyed, crawling out of the tent and sparing the cop one last poisonous little pout before she flipped her short hair at him and glided away like the queen in training she was.
Said cop shuffled inside but stayed kneeling near the entrance, looking soulful and earnest and not mad just disappointed. He let the silence stretch, probably banking on making Stevie uncomfortable enough to be the one to break it. But the joke was on him: she was immune to that kind of bullshit. Probably because Ed used to spend entire months pretending that she didn't exist. And because those months were always far better than the months he spent punishing her for existing.
After she'd already scolded Rick on the highway, the teen did have to admit that she was vaguely curious whether he had taken it upon himself to attempt to parent her or her mama had sent him over to inflict punishment through annoyance. Mama was devious like that, having long since learned that very few standard discipline tactics had any effect on Stevie.
But siccing Rick on her? Mr. Do-Gooder Nice-Guy who just wants to have a calm, rational discussion about everyone else's fuck-ups while minimizing and excusing his own?
Infuriating.
Eventually, with a heavy, put-upon sigh, Rick caved. "I screwed up," he admitted. "But that doesn't make what you did ok-"
"What time did you leave this morning?" challenged Stevie, pretty sure she already knew the answer.
Rick squirmed, confessing, "Not 'til Daryl got back from hunting. Ten or so, I guess."
The teen scoffed, "Maybe I shouldn't have gone by myself, but sitting around waiting for you to grow a conscience or somehow pass off a trip to get your gun bag back as a humanitarian effort wasn't an option either. If you actually felt bad about what you did or cared about the fact that a man was baking to death in the summer sun, you would've been up before said sun and rushing to help him. At the very least. If you were half the man you think you are, you would've turned the truck around the second you realized you'd left someone behind."
She hadn't fathomed the depths of Merle's condition until the sun rose that morning and revealed what yesterday's sun had done to all the exposed skin of his face, neck, and arms. She didn't think she'd ever seen such a bad sunburn, such a painful, vicious shade of red accompanied by weeping blisters. He might as well have been flayed for all the damage. On the drive back, she'd tried not to think about it, unable to do anything but occasionally trickle water down his throat and gently slather the spots she could reach with aloe vera gel (the good stuff with lidocaine, which she'd hoarded like gold even before the apocalypse, along with all the SPF she could get her pasty, freckled hands on). And she'd been the one to help Daryl carry his brother to their tent (T-Dog and Glenn hanging close like they wanted to jump in but weren't sure their presence would be tolerated). She'd felt Merle's exhausted body radiating heat like a furnace and his ruined skin tearing and sliding off his flesh just from being touched, the nauseating combination of tacky half-dried aloe and viscous mystery ooze making her hands slick and her grip uncertain. The sheets of ruined epidermis that had clung to her own after she set him down almost made her hurl.
Rick hadn't stuck around to even show token concern. Rick had run off to greet his family and count his guns and make smug faces at Shane.
"Furthermore," the teen drawled, "I refuse to be lectured by the brainiac behind the travesty that was made of informing Daryl you might've killed his brother in one of the worst ways imaginable." At Rick's minute flinch, she taunted, "Yeah, I heard all about that." Sophia had been similarly unimpressed and disturbed and hadn't held back a single detail. "You and your little sidekick turned it into a camp-wide spectacle and showed zero empathy or remorse. You made a bad situation worse and then had the absolute gall to act surprised and wronged when Daryl responded with justified anger. Maybe he shouldn't have attacked you, although I certainly would've in his shoes, but putting him in a headlock in front of an audience, humiliating him, and then talking down to him like a naughty child and fucking snickering at his pain… Well, again, if I were in his shoes, you would've had an unfortunate accident in Atlanta, and Shane would've had one not long after."
Rick reeled back as though he'd been struck, his mouth opening and closing several times while the man grasped desperately for a response.
Flashing a mean smile, Stevie declared, "Unless you want to keep hearing about all the ways you fucked up, Officer, I suggest we end this conversation with a mutual agreement to do better in the future. Sincere apologies to those who were wronged might not be amiss either."
Rick nodded and then bolted, leaving Stevie to sigh and enjoy her moment of comfortable solitude. She stretched languidly on her inflatable sleeping pad, making a mental note to blow it up a bit more before bed. Camping wasn't terrible. It was sometimes even fun. But sleeping on the ground sucked. A hammock about fifteen feet off the ground would've been far better, but Mama had nixed the idea early on. Plus, Bruno wouldn't have been able to sleep beside the teen. Stevie would be going for an RV of her own the next day, just something small with solar panels, even if she had to drag Glenn along by the ear to avoid more pouting from her sister.
The far-off cacophony of insects and frogs provided a comforting soundtrack to the warm, muggy evening, and Stevie almost fell asleep, one of those inexplicable split-second sensations of falling making her twitch back to full consciousness. Grumbling, she hauled her tired body up for a well-earned dinner. She followed the voices to the camp's main fire, all the while wishing that the idiots around it would keep said voices down. The campers hadn't yet understood the necessity of silence.
There were a lot of things that they hadn't yet understood. Speaking of: "Why the fuck is no one on watch?" Stevie demanded, silencing the conversation and causing everyone to turn to her with expressions that ranged from outraged to scandalized to shocked to embarrassed. "Jesus HVAC Christ, it's like you shit-wits want to get eaten."
" Stevie-"
Instead of arguing or sticking around to be scolded by her irritated mother or glared at by Lori, who looked like a rabid and half-blind marmoset and had her skeletal hands over Carl's ears, the teen huffed and grabbed a plate of food off of… someone and stomped over to the RV. She climbed the ladder one-handed and dragged the folding camp chair next to the bathroom vent. As she set up the seat, she called down into the RV to let the kids inside know that she was up there and standing guard to keep them safe, which earned her some sleepy greetings and giggles. Gavin made her swear not to watch him pee, but that was the extent of the interaction. Stevie savored her dinner and scanned the tree line for signs of invaders.
For not the first time, she noted that a single person on watch wasn't enough and that the RV was a shitty vantage point. Well, it was alright for surveying the camp itself throughout the day but utterly useless for seeing anything coming from around the cleared area—especially in the dark. Ideally, she'd be able to find some tree- or stilt-mounted hunting blinds and set them up on at least four corners of the camp and have those posts manned at all times. But no one would listen to her, of course, and she sighed wretchedly, knowing damn well that some, many, or all of the people around her were going to die for their arrogance and apathy.
By the time the first walker lumbered out of the woods, drawn by the fire and the laughter and the smell of food, Stevie didn't have it in her to be surprised. She just rushed to pick up a hockey stick (which she'd convinced Dale to keep on hand, if only for hooking baskets of snacks and water) and used it to hold the RV door closed so that Amy (who'd ventured inside to use the bathroom) couldn't wander out and right into the geek's path.
" WALKERS!" shouted Stevie, secure in her and her sister's and her dog's and her new kiddos' positions of safety before bothering to make any noise that might compromise them. " COMING OUT OF THE TREES!"
She prayed that her mama and the rest of the kids would be alright, but those fates, like all the others, were completely out of Stevie's hands.
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Someone messaged to ask me who I'd cast as Stevie. TBH, since I'm not constrained by silly things like reality, I'd probably just use the older version of the same actress who plays Sophia, Madison Lintz. So, Sophia is tween Madison Lintz (as seen in the show), and Stevie is teenage Madison Lintz (look her up; I'm not your maid). Boom. Done. And I think I gave them blue eyes? Most of my family have blue eyes, so most of my characters end up with blue eyes, too. I think I was avoiding much physical description of Stevie while I was hiding her mom's and sister's identities, so maybe I'll have to fit that in somewhere. It might be easier to give another character a POV and have said character do the describing, but IDK if I want to shift the focus from Stevie. She's fun to write.
Anyway, reviews and messages are appreciated, so feel free to let me know what you think on those and other topics.