Georgian Redneck

Chapter 2- Everybody's Watching Me

I think I scraped my elbow off the cracked asphalt of the road, but that's the least that's bothering me right now. A herd of bloody... Does the group call them walkers? Anyway, they're passing by! Did Dale not see them? Man... If we're gonna die I'm going to come back and haunt his damn ass! Assuming that he'll live. I really don't want to die this way. Getting bit by a walker? No thank you. I'll take murder or suicide over this shit any day. So you see, this is why I hate this new world.

Daryl presses his back against mine so we both can fit in more. And that makes me blush up a storm. Thank god he can't see my face right now. I mean, it's barely any contact at all, but it's something.

I slowly count the minutes it takes for the disgusting things to stumble by. I try to, anyway. But being so close to a man after so long sort of... I don't know. It feels weird. But I kinda feel protected for the first time in a long time as well. And I guess that's good.

Five. Six. I hope there aren't any of the crawling ones because then we'd be fucked... They're the ones without functioning legs or any legs at all and they're a living hell.

Seven. Eight. The last walker passes me and I breath a quiet sigh of relief. I'm alive. Just barely, though. I'm not sure if being alive in this world is something to be relieved about though.

Daryl shuffles behind me so I slowly turn around and he nods, signaling we should get the hell out. Agreeable. I take one final look around and roll from beneath the van, the hot road boiling my bare arms. Glenn is walking towards me with a wide grin on his face. But his eyes show evident fear.

I detach from Daryl and start walking in his direction. I like Glenn. He seems nice and easy to get along with. And maybe, just maybe, we could become fiends. It's not that I don't want to be his friend, it's just that I don't make friends easily.

"Jesus. That was... You alright?" He asks, turning around to walk beside me. I chuckle and put my arm around his skinny shoulders. "Never been better young man." he laughs a throaty laugh and starts jogging towards the circle of shaken people that have gathered around the RV. I think there's still adrenaline coursing through our veins, because normally I wouldn't be acting like this after escaping death.

I run after him and he play-pushes me as soon as I arrive beside him. Maybe not the best behaviour seeing as we just escaped death itself. But what's life without a little fun?

"Anyone bit? Scratched?" Rick asks in alarm, scanning the group. I've come to notice that he's a worried type of person. Always needing to know what's happening and keep things under check.

I look at my tan hands to see any scratches, but don't find any appart from the scrape, which burns like a bitch by the way.

Everyone in the group slowly shakes their head 'no', including me. Relief washes over everyone, especially Rick, by the looks of it. But that doesn't lessen the sick feeling. I don't know any of these people properly yet, but I'm happy that they're alive. I'm just tired of the world loosing more people.

"The RV can't pass through the cars blocking the road, which means we'll stay here for the night. Now, I don't like the thought of that as much as you do. But there isn't much we can do but Bad thing is, we don't have much food." Stay the night? Is he crazy? And I'm pretty sure you could scavenge food in these cars.

I mean, I've stayed out during night. But I climbed a tree and tied myself to a branch... That worked about right. Although I was scared that I'll wake up and be surrounded by walkers. But this? We'd most likely have to camp in cars, which can quickly become surrounded by the corpses as well. And that's your almost certain death.

Suddenly, Daryl speaks, interrupting my train of thought. "I'll go huntin'." nobody seems surprised. Does he do this often? By the looks of it, he does. Rick nods in agreement. Well, Daryl does have crossbow which would be useful for hunting. Stupid how I've not thought of the function beforehand.

"Andrea, Carol, Sophia, T-Dog, Shane and Lori, start moving the cars. Dale, keep watch. Daryl, you and Diana go and hunt something. I'm not letting you go alone. Carl, Glenn and I will go look for some food as well." He says, grabbing his sons hand and walking briskly towards the woods with Glenn following behind them.

Why couldn't I go with Rick's little gang? They're so much more approachable. Daryl doesn't seem to be too happy about me coming with him, and I could do with some bonus points with Rick.

"C'mon. Don't have much time" Daryl grunts over his shoulder and starts walking the opposite way Rick did. I guess going the same way wouldn't be the smartest. This will be fun. I don't even know how to hunt or track or anything.

I run to catch up with him and almost fall over my own feet. I'm a bit clumsy... I've got so much skill I'd trip over flat ground. Which, by the way, happened before. I think I inherited that gene from my fathers side.

We walk through the beautiful woods, not talking. It's truly nice here. The way the leaves rustle slightly in the breeze and the occasional chirping of the birds. I always liked the woods and how peaceful and silent they are. Great for thinking and clearing your head.

I almost scream when an arrow comes flying inches past my head. My heart's running a marathon and my eyes are as wide as the moon. I'm not sure how much more of this my poor heart can handle. I'm unhealthy as it is, but Jesus.

I turn around to see what Daryl shot.

An involuntary grin finds it's way to my lips as I see an owl. It's pearly white with a few black feathers. Beautiful. What was it doing out during the day? Anyway, food is food. Even if it's beautiful.

He walks past me and gets his arrow out of the owls head, tossing the dead animal at me. I catch it and hold it by its weird feet. What a gentleman he is. The feet feel weird though. I don't think I'd touch such a thing if it weren't for this situation.

I zoom out, thinking about what my future could have been like if the world didn't go to shit. Probably not much of a future, but oh well. It's still sad to think about something that will never happen though. All the possibilities, just gone.

I studied psychology, and got to be a childrens psychologist. That lasted about six years. But what would have happened after that? Would I ever get married? Have children of my own? Quit my job and be a prostitute? Doubt it, but I guess I'll never find out now... Whatever. My life would have been boring, most likely.

"You heard that?" Daryl suddenly asks, drawing my attention back to reality. "Hear what?" I ask, sounding awed. I really didn't hear anything. But maybe I shouldn't have spoken so soon. Also I wasn't really paying attention...

A gunshot echoes around us. What's happening? "That I did hear" I mutter, barely audible as my eyebrows knit together. What if something went wrong? Would the gunshot attract the herd from the highway back? If so, we'd be fucked. I mean properly and thoroughly fucked. But we'd be better off than the group at the highway.

He looks at me and shakes his head slightly. "Can you carry more?" Daryl asks, nodding at my hands. I raise an eyebrow and look at my blood-stained hands, which are full of hairy squirrels and the owl which is now red, white and black. How have I not noticed or felt this? They're hairy and moist and weird. If you told me that I'd be carrying dead animals with a stranger, trecking through a forest a year ago, I would have probably laughed and offered you free counseling.

"Yes. But aren't you scared? The gun shot" I choke out. Something's wrong. I know it. I feel it at the pit of my stomach. Something's wrong. Really wrong. But a man like Daryl doesn't get scared and show it.

"Not really" he mumbles, but I can see he feels the same. Years of being a psychologist have given me practice in reading people well. But he's a tough one... Anyway, not that I've payed much attention to him. He's just a stranger. An intriguing stranger. A stranger I can't seem to crack.

We start to walk again. "How long have we been in the woods for?" I ask, worry clear in my voice. I still can't stop overthinking the gunshot.

He grunts out an answer "An hour or so" Time flies when you're having fun... Note my perfectly skilled sarcasm which always frustrated the parents of my clients.

There's this thing. At the back of my weird mind, saying that something terribly wrong has happened to Glenn. But I choose to ignore it, cancelling out reality again.

Oh, how right I am.