Envy in the Ashes // carl grimes

Why?

Daryl is his name. Considering I haven't been poisoned by this sandwich yet, I think he seems pretty trustworthy. Although, trust is something that is difficult to identify these days, so I shouldn't use the word as if it doesn't demand a profound sense of seriousness.

"Listen uh, I've got a friend not to far away from us right now...we're out on a run checkin' traps we set. We're from a town called Alexandria" Daryl expresses as if trying to break the awkward silence as I eat.

"Is your friend gonna see me as a threat? I feel like it'll be pretty stupid of me to walk up to a stranger in the woods" I reply semi defensively, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Gimme a sec, stay quiet and I'll talk to him on the walkie.."

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion at the fact that this man is acting so casual about a walkie talkie, and his friend being alone in the woods that are filled with dead ones. Daryl reaches down and pulls a walkie talkie off of his belt and holds it up a few inches away from his mouth, and presses the button on the side.

"Rick, ya there?" he asks and releases the button and let's the static crackle waiting for a response

"Yeah, where'd you head off to Daryl?" a voice responds, another raspy voice, with a slight southern accent slipping through his words. My father carried the same accent well.

"I found a girl, names' Charlotte. found her sleepin' in that old shed we walked past, the one we said we'd check on the way back. She's by herself, no guns, she didn't have no food or water neither so I gave her mine.." Daryl explains extensively to Rick, almost as if he's trying to convince him to pity me.

"Let me talk to her...I need to ask her a couple questions.." Rick says matter of factly.

I look up at Daryl, confused, and he just nods reassuringly and says "Alright, she's here"

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick begins with his first question. Walkers?

"I uh...walkers? you mean the dead ones?" I ask him calmly through the walkie.

"Yeah, the dead ones...we call 'em walkers. How many?" he repeats his question rigidly.

"okay...walkers...I haven't killed any.."

"How many people have you killed?" he asks, and I'm taken aback for a moment by the heaviness of this question. Why would I kill anyone?

"uhm...none sir" I reply meekly once more.

"Why?"

Why? I have no idea who this man is and he has confused and terrifed the absolute shit out of me with three questions. It's clear he has done this before. The way he speaks with such intensity, and holds his composure with ease.

"Because...I um...I'm scared, and alone. I have been in this shed for months by myself. The world ended and I think I should've ended with it."

There's a brief moment of silence. The most painfully loud and uncomfortable silence I've ever experienced. Daryl looks up at me and pulls his arm back holding the walkie, now awaiting Rick's response along with me. It's funny, the way I've entirely lost all my social skills within the span of 8 months, causing me to feel like a small child interrupting the adults conversation. Daryl is hard to read. The expression on his face is scrawled and I'm trying to decide whether he's sharing a glare of disapproval or a reassuring stare to let me know I did alright.

The static from the walkie cuts out suddenly and Rick's voice is heard once more.

"Daryl, I want you to make sure she doesn't have any weapons on her, and bring her back to Alexandria. I'll meet you there, I can handle the rest of the traps" Rick states to end their conversation.