Blood Soaked Arrows (On Hold)

(12) The Loved One

For two days I had been cooped up in the ‘tank’ because of Randall. It wasn’t like I was afraid of the gimpy child or anything because let’s face it I could take him out with a plastic cup. No, the reason why I had been stuck in the damn ‘tank’ was because Daryl had said that I needed to make myself scarce for a while until the group decided what they were going to do with the boy.

As it turned out Randall knew a lot more than he had lead us to believe, like how he had went to school with Maggie and rode her bus. It became very clear to the group then even if we let him go miles away from here he would eventually find his way back to his group, and in turn lead them all right back here to the farm and to me. I could kind of understand why Daryl wanted me to make myself scarce after that because the group was started to makes it’s feeling clear, I was becoming more and more of a problem.

The two days had passed in pure agony. I had run out of food in my ‘tank’ and my water was nearly gone. I didn’t want to owe anyone any favors so I didn’t ask for food and Rick wouldn’t let me leave the farm so I couldn’t hunt or scavenge neither. The frustration of my situation was eating at me so badly that I just wanted to pull out a few of my guns and go crazy.

Since I couldn’t do that I decided that a nice relaxing walk around the farm would have to do. I decided that walking around the back of the house would be nice but somewhere between there and my ‘tank’ my mind slipped away. I simply walked.

I could feel the tall grass brushing against my exposed ankles with every step I took. Every so often there would be a crunch from me stepping on a stray twig or a hardened piece of dirt, but mostly it was quiet. The breeze nipped at bare arms and neck but I didn’t turn back to get my jacket. The chilly wind reminded me just how close winter was and I vaguely wondered who was going to be around to see it. The chances of me dying were growing everyday but what about the rest of the group? Would Sophia live to see the snow fall or even Daryl?

Just the thought of either of them dying made it difficult for me to breathe. They were the only people that I had any sort of ties to in this hell and without them…I wasn’t sure what would happen to me. My gaze drifted away from the ground and I looked around the farm, in search for one of them. I wasn’t sure why but I had this dire need to see one of them even if I couldn’t speak with them I just needed to see them.

A loud thud sounded followed by a cry. My head snapped in the direction of the nearby barn and I didn’t think twice. My heart was pounding inside of my throat as I ran. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to expect or even do when I reached the barn, all I knew was that I had to get there.

Another cry of pain helped to lead me to a separate section of the barn, a small shack tucked away in the corner. The door to it was left slightly ajar making it easy for me to get a firm grip on it before ripping it open.

What I saw then I hadn’t been expecting. Randall was curled up in a ball on the floor with a growing bruise on his cheek and blood gushing out of a crack in his swollen lip. His dark eyes met mine instantly and instead of seeing the evil in them I saw only the pain. My gaze traveled from him up to the dark figure that was leaning over him.

The torn off sleeves and plaid design were the first thing that caught my attention, then I noticed the blood dripping off of his tightly clenched fist. Slowly everything pieced it’s self together in my head and when it was all clearly laid out, I still didn’t believe it.

“What are ya’ doing?” I questioned praying that Daryl would prove me wrong.

With a wickedly slow pace he looked over his shoulder at me. His face was so contorted in rage that I almost believed that I had been mistaken, his eyes were sharp as glass and they cut into me. “Leave.”