"Dale could - could get under your skin." Rick began, his voice coming out hoarse with emotion. "He sure got under mine because he wasn't afraid to say what he thought, how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare and brave. Whenever I'd make a decision, I'd look at Dale. He'd be looking back at me with that look he had. We've all seen it one time or another. I couldn't always read him, but he could read us. He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us - the truth of who we really are. In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity. He said this group was broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences and pull together, stop feeling sorry for ourselves, and take control of our lives, our safety, our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong. From now on... we're gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale."
I sniffled from the safety under Daryl's arm, still reeling from losing a member of our group. Dale was right when he said that this group is broken. We are. Sadly, it took his death for us to realize just how broken we are. Bridges need to be mended, not burned among us, and there are two main bridges that I need to fix. I bowed as we all took a moment of silence, each of us honoring him in our own way. Dale was among the first people I met when I came to camp. He gave me a place to stay with him in the RV, watched out for me, and even confided in me. He was a good man, one that will not be forgotten. I stood straight and watched as the group dissipated around us. I crossed my arms and slowly walked up to Rick, biting my lip as I glanced at Dale's grave.
"Did he agree?" I asked Rick lowly, my voice hoarse and wavering with emotion and exhaustion. Rick zipped up his jacket and nodded, sniffling once before looking down at me.
"It's gonna be cramped, but he agreed," Rick replied. Rick had talked with Hershel shortly after Dale died, asking him if we could stay in the house for the winter so we wouldn't be exposed to the weather and walkers. "Daryl, T-Dog, Andrea, and Shane are going to secure the fence, make sure all is clear a few miles away from the farm and come back."
"Yeah, Daryl told me about it when we got up." I nodded, "Said it would be a twenty-minute job."
"When they return, we'll talk with Hershel about sleeping arrangements." I nodded at Rick and ran a hand through my tangled hair, my eyes tired and slightly puffy from all the crying I did yesterday. "How are you holding up?"
"You know," I began once I thoroughly thought about his question, "Dale and I weren't exactly the closest, but it hit me hard. When I saw that walker on him, ripping his stomach open, it didn't seem real. Out of everyone here, why Dale?" Rick held a steady hand on my shoulder, comforting me if I cried again. Little did he know, I was all cried out. I don't think I can physically produce tears anymore, even if I tried. I managed to pull off a sad smile as I placed my hand on his, thankful he was here for me if I needed it. My stomach growled, completely ruining the moment between the two of us. Rick grinned and pushed me into him, his arm wrapping around me as he led me back into the camp.
"Hungry?" He asked in a teasing tone. I smiled at him and nodded, embarrassed as my stomach continued to growl loudly. He led me into the camp, receiving quite a death glare from his wife once she saw his arm around me, and gently pushed me into one of the lawn chairs we had set up. If I don't read into it, Lori shouldn't either; maybe she's reading into it since I'm on her shit list again. I watched as Rick served me a plate of eggs and brought it to me, nearly shoving it in my face with a goofy smile. I thanked him quickly and took the plate from him, slowly (for once) eating and enjoying the food. As I slowly chewed, I watched as members of our group sadly sulked around—especially Carl. He sat next to his mom, his blue eyes glued to the ground as he sniffled and harshly wiped away the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide that he was crying. By the time I had finished eating, Daryl and the rest were back, unloading the wire they had taken to fix the fences if needed. I got up, handed my plate to Carol, who was quickly washing them and walked toward where Rick, Shane, and Daryl huddled with Hershel and his family. I was greeted with sad smiles from the Greene family and tapped on Daryl's shoulder as I took my spot next to him.
"15 people in one house, it's going to be a tight fit," Rick said as he got right down to business, his eyes firmly glued to Hershel.
"Don't worry about that." Hershel reassured Rick, "With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up..."
"With 50 head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringing the damn dinner bell." Maggie finished, her eyes wandering off towards the fence.
"She's right." Hershel agreed as he looked around, "We should have moved you in a while ago." I gave the man a grateful smile and looked around, trying to develop the best plan.
"Alright, then." I smiled as I hatched up a plan. "Let's move the vehicles near each door, facing out toward the road. We'll build a lookout in the windmill and another in the barn loft. That should give us sightlines on both sides of the property." I looked around at the group as they started to grab their things and move them into the farmhouse, excited chatter coming mainly from Lori and Carol. "T-Dog." I called out once my eyes landed on him." You take the perimeter around the house. Keep track of everyone coming and going."
"What about standing guard?" He asked as he flashed me a smile. I licked my lips and turned to Daryl, smiling up at him like a four-year-old begging for candy, "I need you and Daryl on double duty." T-Dog nodded at me and took the cooler into the house before walking away with a rifle in hand. Daryl pushed me lightly to the side and flashed me a wink as he followed T-Dog; my eyes rolled as I watched him disappear in the distance.
"I'll stock the basement with food and water, enough that we can all survive there a few days if needed," Hershel informed me as he passed, carrying three boxes.
"What about patrols?" Andrea asked me as she walked forward, her hand securely on her gun resting on her hip.
"Let's get this area on lockdown first. After that, Shane and Daryl will assign shifts while Rick and I go offside and cut Randall loose." Andrea nodded at me with a tight smile before slinging her pack over her shoulder and walking towards the house. Shane sighed next to me; his steely brown eyes filled with frustration as he looked at me.
"We're back to that now?" Shane asked, his voice flooding with irritation. I let out a small groan and made eye contact with him, not really in the mood to fight with him over what we think is right.
"It was the right plan the first time around," Rick spoke, probably sensing that I was in no mood to argue with the burly man in front of me. "Poor execution."
"That's a slight understatement." Shane laughed dryly as he licked his bottom lip and looked toward the barn.
"You don't agree, but this is what's happening," I said, figuring it was the best way to tell him to shut up.
"Dale's death and the prisoner, that's two separate things," Shane muttered lowly, his eyes darting between Rick and me. "You want to take her, have alone time by saying she's your wingman, be my guest." I rubbed my forehead, already tired of his attitude today. If this is how it will be until one of us leaves or dies, I don't think I can handle it. I need to get him alone, say something, and try to make things right. I turned to my left and saw Lori standing there, eyeing the three of us as she probably caught the end of Shane's attitude. Oh well, I have bigger things to worry about than Lori. Rick rolled his eyes and stalked off, leaving us by the trucks. I turned back to Shane and pursed my lips, wrapping my arms around me and maintaining eye contact.
"Hey." After an awkward silence, I finally said, "Can you come with me, Shane?" He looked at me and groaned audibly, making it clear he didn't want to deal with me. I led him over to the west side fence and leaned up against the fence, turning to look at him thoroughly. I could see clearly on his face that he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to talk to me. With the way things are between us, I don't blame him! Ever since the CDC, things have been tense. And me getting the upper hand on him the other day certainly didn't help.
"Look." I began as I looked over him, really studying his bruised and cut-up face. Rick seemed to get in a few good licks. "Things between us haven't been great."
"You can say that again." He muttered under his breath, his eyes never coming to meet mine. He stared directly at the ground, his lips in a tight line and his hands behind his back.
"I just want to say I'm sorry for being a bitch." I continued, ignoring what he said completely. "I don't want this anymore," I motioned between us, hoping he understood that I was talking about the tension, " I don't want to have to walk on eggshells around you or avoid you. You were the first person I met when I stumbled into camp. You gave me a place to stay and introduced me to everyone."
"So what? You want us to be friends or something?" Shane asked, finally meeting my eyes. I smiled at him and stepped closer, not pushing any boundaries.
"We don't have to be friends." I answered, "We can work up to it. I think I would be happy knowing that all is forgiven and we have each other's back." Shane looked at me, his eyes scanning over my face as if he didn't believe a word I just said. He finally sighed and bowed his head, raising it and extending his hand to me.
"We can do that." He said, giving me the slightest of smiles as we shook hands. "So, who hits harder? Me or Daryl." I looked at him and started laughing. Is his memory wrong, or is he modifying it to make himself feel better? This man didn't get a single hit in!
"If I remember correctly, I don't think you hit me." I laughed as we started to walk back toward the house. Shane smiled at me and squinted as he looked ahead, closing some distance between us.
"I'm pretty sure I did." He chuckled as he turned to look at me. I rolled my eyes at him and bit my lip, liking the change between us. I could see this turning into an uneasy friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.
"How about you and I have a few rounds soon? See who wins?" I suggested as we started climbing the porch steps. As the words left my mouth, I instantly regretted them. What if he agrees and takes the opportunity to gun me down instead?
"Sounds good." He nodded as he gave me one final glance. I smiled at him and shook my head, happy that I got to fix one bridge... now I have one more to fix. "Let me know when and where. We'll do it then."
"I'll take you up on that." I chuckled even though it was a lie.
Shane and I looked at one another, smiling before we shook our heads and walked in opposite directions. That wasn't so bad! It makes me so happy that we are at least trying! There's one more person I have to talk to, but I'll leave that for some other day. I have to start moving Daryl's stuff and mine into the house. Daryl and T-Dog are still patrolling the perimeter, so it's up to me to find a spot he wants. I walked over to our tent, kicking rocks occasionally until I reached our tent. Bending down, I noticed that Daryl had already placed our stuff outside and neatly folded the tent before going out on his patrol. I smiled, happy there wouldn't be much work and heaved as I slung Daryl's heavy pack onto my shoulder.
Instantly, I buckled forward, struggling to steady myself so I wouldn't get a faceful of dirt. What does he have in here!? It weighs a ton! I laced my other arm through the strap and groaned, my back instantly hating me as I slumped forward. I grabbed my pack by the strap and dragged it along, regretting the idea of sleeping away from everyone else when we were out here. I'll deal with the tent later. Right now, I want to focus on not collapsing under the weight of this thing.
"Let me help you," I heard Rick shout. I smiled as he ran up to me and grabbed my pack, his teasing eyes landing on me as he felt the weight of my pack. "This is too heavy for you?" I frowned at him and shrugged Daryl's pack off, letting it fall to my feet as I released a gasp of relief, my hands instantly moving to rub my back. Rick handed me my pack and bent down to grab Daryl's, his eyes widening once he felt the sheer weight of the thing. "I see." I laughed and nodded, walking alongside him back to the house.
"Peace talks are going down," I said nonchalantly, ignoring that what I had just said was corny. I turned to Rick, his brow scrunched in confusion, "Think of it like the Paris Peace treaties."
"June," Rick grunted, adjusting the pack's weight on his shoulders, "English, please. I don't speak nerd." My mouth slacked open in shock, and a smile spread across my lips as I playfully nudged him.
"The Allies, me, and the Axis, Shane, are negotiating peace between themselves," I continued, "We're trying to patch up whatever bad blood is between us." Rick cocked an eyebrow at me and smirked.
"Really?" He asked, thoroughly surprised. I nodded at him and smiled, obviously proud of myself for taking the first few steps of patching things between the burly man and myself.
"I figured if we're going to survive together, we might as well try getting along." I shrugged my shoulders as we started to ascend the porch steps. "I think I want the back of the couch," I murmured as we entered the house.
"Well, that's good to hear." Rick beamed as he put Daryl's pack down next to mine, "It was awkward having to only go to one of you at a time."
"Aw, you don't like talking to me, Rick?" I teased as I leaned against a wall, my eyes locked with his as he stepped closer.
"Now, when did I ever say that?" He remarked as he gave me a goofy smile. "You're my favorite person to talk to," I could feel my cheeks burn as I processed his words, my heart jolting.
"Am I, now?" I questioned with a shy smile. I wasn't expecting such a bold answer, so I felt rattled and at a loss for words. I cleared my throat, shook my head, and stepped closer to him to push him aside playfully.
"This has been nice, Mr. Grimes," I whispered, "But I have things to do. Come find me if you need something done, and I'm sure we'll be able to bang something out."
Have you ever regretted saying something as soon as it left your lips? Well, this was one of those moments. Why did I have to word it like that? Why did I have to open my mouth in general? I need to learn how to keep my mouth shut. It's going to get me in even more trouble one day. I didn't stay to catch his expression or to wait for a response; I bolted. I quickly exited the house and started walking back toward the tent, deciding to store it in the RV until Daryl figured out a place to pack it away. Still trying to shake off my self-inflicted cringe, I bounced up the steps and tossed the folded-up tent under the table.
"June?" I jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion, and turned. Carl stood there, eyeing me, causing me to smile at the boy brightly. He didn't return my smile; instead, he frowned profoundly and bowed his head as if he had done something terrible. "Can I tell you something, and you won't tell my parents?" I shifted on my foot and bit my lip before nodding at him. Should I promise such a thing? What if it was something major where he needs a parent's guidance?
"You can tell me anything," I reassured him as I moved closer. I watched as he sniffled and reached around his waist, producing a handgun and handing it to me. I looked at him with my mouth slightly agape, taking the gun and examining it. I popped open the chamber and noticed that all six bullets were still there—he never fired this gun. I quickly shoved the gun into the waistband of my pants and covered it with my shirt.
"I took it from Daryl's motorcycle." He whispered to me, keeping his eyes down on the carpet of the RV. I set my lips tight and touched his shoulder, "If he found out I took it, he'll kill me."
"Yeah, he might." I tried—and failed—to make him smile. "What were you doing with this, Carl?"
"It's my fault – Dale. It's my fault he's dead." Carl whimpered as he finally looked up at me. I shook my head frantically, knowing it wasn't his fault.
"Carl, he was attacked by a walker," I explained, worry starting to encase me as he shook his head, tears brimming his eyes.
"I saw that walker. I was going to shoot it." He paused and looked at me, his blue eyes spilling the tears that had built up. "It was stuck in the mud. I was – I was throwing rocks at it and stuff. But I was gonna do it – shoot it right in the head. And it – it got free and came after me, and I ran away. If I had killed it, Dale would still be here." I lowered myself to his level, brushing his hair back and using my other hand to rub his back softly.
"Carl, you can't blame yourself for what happened to Dale," I whispered, "Never blame yourself for this, okay? It isn't your fault." I examined him and frowned, brushing his tears with my thumb. My heart hurts to see him so sad. I grabbed the gun, feeling the cool metal of it as I handed it back to Carl. "I think you should keep it. You're a good shot, and we can use someone like you covering us." Carl shook his head feverishly, his eyes glued on the gun as his lips quivered.
"I'm never touching another gun again." He whimpered as he locked eyes with me again. Sadly, I smiled at him and pushed him into me, brushing his hair back as he hugged me tightly. He can't keep pinning Dale's death on himself; That walker would've gotten loose anyways, and something could've happened to any of us. "Can you just give the gun back to Daryl?" I nodded at him and watched as he stepped out of the RV, still completely crestfallen and feeling unbelievably guilty over everything that had transpired. If I tell Lori about all this, she'll freak out and yell at Carl, something he doesn't need right now. I'll wait until I can have a moment alone with Rick and tell him that maybe he should talk to his son. I walked out of the RV and perched myself against it, watching Carl open the house door and shut it behind him. I know what it's like to blame yourself for someone's death, and it's not a good feeling.
I hope Rick can get it out of Carl's head that this was his fault. He's not at fault whatsoever. I understand that you need to grow up fast these days, but he needs a chance to continue being a kid. He's only 12, for crying out loud.
Pushing myself off the RV, I started to walk towards the house—better talk to Rick now so he can have a conversation with his son rather than put things off. I found him on the porch, just left of the door to the house, as he studied the map displayed in front of him. I just stood there, trying to come up with the right words to say, when he finally looked up and saw me.
"There you are." I smiled once Rick noticed me, a smile of his own stretching across his lips. "We should map out where we're going to take him." I nodded and walked over, taking my place beside him and leaning down to study the map. He pointed at a town named 'Senoia' and looked back at me.
"We take him out to Senoia—hour there, hour back—give or take. We may lose the light, but we'll be halfway home by then." He explained to me. I nodded, thinking it was a good plan, but he absolutely had to talk to Carl before we did this. "Carol's putting together some provisions for him, enough to last a few days." I turned to look at him, took a seat on the porch railing, and stuffed my hands in my pockets. He frowned and moved closer to me, his hand reaching out to grab my knee. "What's wrong?"
"You need to talk to Carl." I said almost immediately, not meeting his eyes, "He came to me right now... He was out in the swamps yesterday and found a walker stuck in the mud."
"The same walker that killed Dale?" Rick asked me, his hand dropping to his side. I finally looked up at him and sighed heavily.
"The very one," I answered. Rick shifted on his foot and scrunched his face slightly, something he did when he had to decide between two things. "He also gave me this," I murmured as I handed him the gun from earlier. Rick sighed as he examined the gun, his eyes shutting briefly from the stress.
"I'll have Lori talk to him about it." He replied after a moment's thought. I shook my head at him and stood up, running a hand through my hair. "We need this Randall thing done with today."
"I know." I sighed, "But your son needs you right now; He's more important than Randall. I can take Daryl with me if it gets too late, but the most important thing should be Carl right now." Rick scanned my face, a slight smile spreading as he took in my words.
"You're right." He smiled, "You're always right. That's why I need you here by my side." I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, feeling my face heat up. He slowly backed away from me, licking his lips as he chuckled. I sat back on the porch railing and propped my leg up, stretching out my hamstrings. Enjoying the view and the silence, I started humming to myself—trying my hardest to remember the lyrics to Yesterday by The Beatles as I hummed. I watched as Andrea and Glenn messed around with the RV, probably trying to start it, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned and saw Daryl standing there, his crossbow slung across his shoulders as he tightly gripped a piece of clothing. He wore his usual jacket – jean sleeves, a leather vest, and angel wings on the back. He tossed the garment at me, a smirk across his face as it hit me square in the chest.
"It's gonna get cold soon, and your dumbass doesn't have a jacket." He explained as I held out the jean jacket with white sleeves and a matching hoodie, instantly loving it as I slipped it on.
"Thanks, Dixon." I smiled at him as I started to button it up. I have to admit, it's been getting chilly lately, and I only have my flannels for warmth. Daryl nodded at me and sat down beside me, sighing with relief. We stayed quiet, watching as Andrea and Glenn continued to work on the RV. I couldn't help but cheer from where I sat when Glenn got in, and the RV started, happy he could fix the thing.
T-Dog walked up to Daryl and me, his hands on his hips as he watched the RV come our way. I looked at him and offered him a smile, glad to have a moment of peace before the storm of terror rains down on me today. Who knows, maybe leaving Randall will be quick and easy?
"I better start loading up," I murmured as I looked at the two men beside me. They nodded, and T-Dog stepped to the side, letting me pass. Approaching the truck, I grabbed my knife and examined it—hopefully, the blade wasn't dull just yet. I opened the truck and looked inside, seeing my trusty machete and grabbing the handle. I swung it before me, smiling as it made a 'whoosh' sound. T-Dog approached me and extended a hand, pushing a gun toward me.
"Dale's gun?" I asked him as I checked the chamber, still fully loaded. T-Dog nodded at me and stayed quiet, sadness consuming us briefly as we thought of our fallen friend. Rick came up to us, scaring both of us in the process as he cleared his throat. I rolled my eyes at the man and shared a smile with T-Dog. T-Dog quickly told us he would get Randall as he walked away. Watching as T-Dog walked to the barn, Rick cleared his throat right next to me as if trying to get my attention. I ignored him and smiled, staring at T as he opened the lock and entered.
"June?" Rick whispered as he tugged on my arm, acting like a kid. I held in a laugh and continued to ignore him, being quite childish myself. He sighed heavily before stepping directly into my line of sight, his face slightly frowning as I finally acknowledged him.
"Oh, Rick!" I chuckled, "When did you get here?" He frowned even more deeply as he leaned over the truck, trying to get in my face. I smiled at him and laughed, stepping away from the truck and biting my lip. "I'm just messing with you, Rick."
"I know." He retorted, "Daryl's rubbing off on you." I rolled my eyes and stepped back towards the truck, deciding to mess with him further by being a pervert.
"At least someone's rubbing one out to me." I winked, laughing as Rick went from happy to disgusted.
"How old are you again?" Rick asked, a teasing smile replacing his look of disgust, "13?" I scoffed at him and huffed a laugh, rolling my eyes at him. I was about to reply when T-Dog barreled into us, out of breath and panicked.
"He's gone!" T-Dog shouted at us. I felt my smile drop instantly as I looked at him. What does he mean gone?! Rick and I exchanged glances before the group surrounded us, hearing the commotion.
"Gone?!" I repeated to T-Dog, his head nodding frantically to confirm that I heard him right. I set out in a sprint, not even thinking about it anymore. I need to see this for myself! How could he be gone!? I busted through the door and gasped when I saw his dirty handcuffs and blindfold. Rick followed in soon after and grabbed my upper arms, holding me as he examined the scene. "Cuffs are still hooked," I said as the rest of the group flooded into the barn.
"He must have slipped them." Rick groaned as he squeezed my upper arms in distress. Placing my hand over his, I rubbed his fingers with my thumb, trying to calm him. Easier said than done, though.
"Is that possible?" Carol asked as she wrapped her arms around her, and her voice wavered with fright.
"It is if you got nothing to lose," Andrea said as she stepped out of the barn, examining the doors.
"The door was secured from the outside." Hershel pulled the door closed and opened it again. He probably slipped out of the cuffs, wormed his way up to the loft, and jumped to freedom. I stepped away from Rick and made my way outside the barn, examining the treeline as if I would catch a glimpse of him.
"Rick!" I heard a shout call out. Shane was a few feet from the barn, his nose pouring blood as he ran up to Rick and me.
"What happened?" Lori and I both shouted — Lori's filled with worry and mine filled with authority, asking for a report.
"He's armed! He's got my gun!" Shane shouted as he looked us all over. His eyes bore that wild look they had that day we got into our fistfight. Something isn't sitting right with me.
"You okay?" Carl asked, obviously worried about Shane. Shane nodded, not even glancing at Carl.
"I'm fine. Little bastard just snuck up on me and caught me in the face." Shane shouted. I pursed my lips and looked at him, wondering how someone as small as Randall could knock him down and run away, with a limp at that! But then again, I did knock Shane on his ass, and I'm a lot smaller than Randall, but he has a limp... he couldn't have made it far. Shane is fast enough and big enough to tackle him down and drag him back here.
"Hershel, T-Dog. Get everybody inside the house!" Rick ordered. "Glenn, Daryl, and June, come with us." I shook my head and looked at Rick, thinking it would be best for me to stay here. I will just end up questioning Shane and getting on his nerves.
"I'll stay with T and Hershel in case Randall comes back armed." Rick nodded and frowned so slightly that I probably imagined it at this point.
"Be safe," Rick told me, his eyes raking over my face as I continued to nod at him. I smiled and placed my hand on my hip, fingering my knife, machete, and gun. I don't know how my holster supports all the weight, but it was!
"You too, okay?" I smiled at him as I turned on my heel and looked at the group. All of them were gathered behind me, waiting for instructions. "We need to go back to the house and lock all the doors. T and I will take care of him if he's out there."
~*~
I stood by the window, watching as the sun lowered and stars slowly sprinkled across the darkening sky. About two hours had passed since the guys started searching for Randall, and no one was back yet. Did they find him or get into some trouble? Maybe they took down a few walkers before coming back this way. I wrapped my arms around myself as I continued to look out the window, anxiety swimming inside me as the light the sun provided became non-existent and night entirely fell upon us.
"They still aren't back," Lori said with worry filling her voice as she sat on the sofa. "What if something's happened to them out there?"
"We can't think like that," I answered as I looked at the scared people before me. We were all on edge. We have no idea if Randall will be found, if he found his group, or if something has happened to our guys. "They're out there searching and'll be back soon." Lori nodded at me and frowned, worry still consuming her entirely. I turned towards the window and strained to see if there were signs that the guys were already coming back. T-Dog came and started looking out the window with me, his lips in a tight line as we both searched.
"T," I whispered to him, keeping my voice low, "Please tell me something about Shane's story didn't sit right with you." T-Dog nodded and looked down at me, his lips turning into a frown as he looked deep in thought.
"How can he be taken down and outran by a guy like Randall?" T-Dog whispered to me, "Randall has a limp. No way Shane couldn't easily run and catch him."
"My thoughts exactly." I concurred and sighed. I should've gone out there with them; this waiting around and not knowing is killing me.
I leaned against the nearest wall and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep myself calm for the sake of the group. T-Dog nudged me quickly and pointed outside, his finger following two figures.
"Two people coming our way." I grabbed my gun and announced to the group, "T-Dog come with me. Hershel and Andrea, stay here and take them out if these aren't our guys." I walked over to the door and swung it open, keeping the porch light off as T-Dog, and I held our guns in our hands, ready to fire in case these were Randall's group. We watched as the two figures got closer and closer, both of us holding our guns out in front of us, ready to fire.
"What are you doing?" I heard the harsh voice of Daryl ring out. I smiled and dropped my gun, happy he and Glenn were finally back.
"What does it look like I'm doing" I retorted, a smirk spreading across my face as Daryl approached me. "Didn't want to risk it."
"We should get back into the house." Glenn said, his eyes landing on me as he frowned, "We have something to tell you." I nodded at him and started back towards the house, instructing Daryl to lock the door behind us as we all piled in.
Almost immediately, Daryl and Glenn were bombarded with questions about what they found or what was happening. I stood in the middle of the room and told everyone to quiet down, giving the room to the two men who just returned. Just as Daryl was about to speak, the familiar pop of a gun echoed in the distance.
----*----
Hey, guys
If you see anything that is misspelled or doesn't make sense, please let me know. I reread and reread before publishing, but sometimes, things slip through.
Hope you guys are having a good and safe day.
Con Mucho Amor,
InMyDarkystHour