The crunch of the snow beneath my feet was deafening against the utter silence that surrounded me – there were no animals, no signs of other human life, and no signs of any walkers in the area. The best thing about the wintertime is that the walkers were drastically slower, and the few we've encountered so far have been frozen in place.
I zipped up my leather jacket – an authentic badass jacket that Daryl found a few weeks before the cold weather fully hit us – and stuffed my hands in my pockets, the feeling in them nearly gone as the cold continued to bite at them. I used to say I was a winter gal before all this, but now I think I'm a spring person. The summers are too hot, and the winters are too cold now that we don't have A/Cs or heaters, so spring is the perfect combination. I rolled my neck and shoulders, feeling intense tension from sleeping on hard floors. Ever since winter started, we've been house-jumping. We don't stay in a place too long since the resources are non-existent in the area, and we can't move as quickly as we want to since it's too damn cold.
The sound of crunching snow approaching me made me stop dead in my tracks, my heart beating in my ears as I prepped myself to make a run for it. With the resources depleting, we've had to ration as much as we could; The lack of food and the number of calories I burn daily... let's just say I have no energy to take down a walker right now. Rick emerged from the surrounding trees, his hand tightly clutching his gun as his eyes landed on me. It took him a few seconds to fully register that it was me until he loosened his grip on his python, a small smile on his lips. I smiled at him and slowly started walking, deciding to keep making my way to the small town we were by.
"Didn't find any animals?" I asked him lowly as I passed him. He shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, his guard dropping as he realized we were all alone. I did tell him it was too cold for any animals to be out, but he insisted otherwise. When are these guys gonna learn that I'm almost always right?
"It's dead out here. Too cold for any squirrels or birds to be out and about." Rick shrugged. We kept quiet as we continued walking, our breathing the only thing audible as one of us occasionally huffed from exhaustion.
"I don't think we're gonna find anything, Rick." I finally muttered as the trees cleared away, revealing the deserted town. "We've already torn this place apart; we need to move on." Rick let out a heavy sigh next to me, knowing that I was right. Two weeks is a long time, and we've cleared almost every building except one.
"We had a good two weeks in that house Glenn found, but you're right." Rick agreed, "We should just try finding some food and prepare to jump to the next town."
"Who knows? Maybe Daryl and Glenn managed to find something good in that gas station they found yesterday?" I suggested, desperately trying to lift the mood between us. Rick nodded, a defeated smile spreading across his cracked lips as he turned to me.
"Maybe." He smiled, and after a pause, he said, "You know what I miss?" I continued looking at him, waiting for him to enlighten me. "I miss just being lazy around the house. A cold beer in one hand and a movie playing on the TV with the heater on high."
"That sounds amazing." I exhaled longingly as I pictured the exact same scenario but with me relaxing in the recliner. as we stepped onto the first street of the town. "Wait, wait, wait, the main question here is: What kind of beer?" I asked, smiling up at him. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thought.
"I'm gonna butcher the name on this one," He warned, "A few years ago, we took a family trip to Mexico, and there was this beer that was just awesome. Bohemia?"
I could literally feel my mouth water at the name alone. "That's my favorite beer," I informed him, "I'm willing to lay my life on the line just for one last taste of it."
"You got good taste then, June," Rick chuckled. Damn right, I have good taste! Well... it's questionable when it comes to men, but my taste is impeccable for everything else. Or at least, that's the little lie I tell myself every day.
Slowly, we entered the beat-up town, pausing to admire it one last time. It was covered in snow, the ugly brown walls looking harsh against the snow's pure white. The streets were littered with cars, and the stores had already been looted before we settled down a mile away. "I hate to be a downer again, but you know we already got all the gas from these cars, right?"
"Yep," Rick muttered as he took in our surroundings. "We still have at least two canisters left from when we came last." Rick harshly rubbed his eyes as stress started to overwhelm him. These past three months have been absolute hell for all of us. Lori was progressing with her pregnancy. The food was almost gone, we didn't have enough gas to take us more than fifty miles, and everyone was beyond stressed from the constant moving around.
Despite all this, Rick and I are still determined to find a permanent home where we can grow and prosper, a place for the baby and Carl to grow up and live happy lives, and where families can start. We started walking deeper into town, eyes scanning the desolate building as we looked for our markings. I had the bright idea of marking the buildings we had already searched with spray paint that Glenn found about a month ago. It's made it easier for us to keep track of everything. We came to the one building we had yet to search, our eyes scanning the place for any signs of the undead.
I grabbed my knife and slowly walked forward, my eyes constantly darting around me as my skin erupted in goosebumps from the bitter cold. I pushed open the door, slamming my hand into the glass and waiting for any walkers to leave their hiding places. Nothing came forward, and the silence deafened me once more as I slowly walked into the building. Rick followed me, his knife held firmly in his hand as we broke off into different directions.
I looked around and sighed heavily once my eyes landed on a bottle of whiskey, the amber liquor begging me to take it. Shaking my head, I continued scanning over the shelves, a frown etching onto my mouth as I realized this place was a liquor store. Bottles and bottles of different hard alcohols lined the shelves, every single one of them calling my name. I used to drink a lot and party – Weird for a museum curator, right? No, we're entitled to have lives too! I haven't had a drink since Hershel, and I got pretty buzzed... that was also the night Randall came into the picture.
My eyes continued scanning the shelves, seeing nothing but liquor bottles and disappointment. I heard Rick whistle, my feet automatically taking me to him. I looked at him and saw him holding up a shotgun, smiling as he stuffed a box of shells into his jacket pocket.
"Not a complete bust," I whispered to him. Rick shook his head and started eyeing the different alcohols, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as he grabbed a bottle of rum. "Planning on getting wasted sometime soon, Grimes?" I teased the man as he put the bottle back down and smirked at me.
"Only if you plan on drinking with me." He remarked, his blue eyes intensifying against the dull light that flooded the store. I bit my lip and moved closer to him, my eyes lowering to the floor before coming up to meet his.
"Rum and I don't have a good relationship." I whispered, "Tends to make me take my clothes off." Rick smiled down at me, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face before lingering on my cheek. Since that night after the farm, Rick and I have been slightly more flirty than usual. A little flirting never hurt anyone, right?
"Then we have to drink rum." He smirked, his eyes dropping to my lips. I smiled and pulled away from him; We're treading dangerous waters here, and I don't know if I'd stop myself if something happened. I'm barely holding on as it is! Any more of this, and I'll do something I'd regret later.
"I'll take a raincheck, Grimes." I toyed, making it known that getting drunk with him was very tempting. He chuckled and shook his head, walking away to continue searching the store. I walked around, my eyes searching the shelves and landing on nothing but more alcohol. After about twenty minutes, Rick and I decided we wouldn't find anything else. We slowly walked back out, our guards down as we continued the thirty-minute walk back to the house. Luckily, I had found a camping stove back when we barely left the farm, so we weren't freezing our asses off, but we were still cold in that house.
I looked at the man next to me. His face was expressionless as he stared ahead of us. He secured a razor just over a week ago and shaved off his beard, but his handsome face was now littered with stubble. I still think he'd look good if he let it grow out, but that would be dangerous. I don't think I could keep my hands to myself if that happened, so his shaving is definitely a good thing.
Things have been good between us—I'm his right-hand man, his second in command if you'd like. He and I have a good relationship, but I can see it bothering Lori occasionally. They haven't been on good terms since that night after the farm... he's still hurt about how she reacted, and she's... well, let's just say she's moody. The pregnancy is weighing everyone down. We all offer her our rations, don't want her over-exerting herself, and don't want her to get in our way. It sounds mean, but it's the truth... she's always exhausted, and she'll only slow us down if she helps us with practically anything at this point.
"Have you spoken to your wife?" I finally asked, curiosity getting the best of me. It's to the point where he sleeps near Daryl and me rather than with her... it's getting bad between them. Rick turned to me and frowned, not too happy I was bringing her up.
"No." He answered, his shoulders shrugging as he turned his attention to the woods before us.
"You need to talk to her, Rick." I sighed heavily. As much as I like the attention he gives me, he has to focus on his pregnant wife. "You can't keep putting it off." It was Rick's turn to sigh heavily, his hand lifting so he could rub his eyes.
"I know, but every time I look at her, I see that look she gave me. That look of pure disgust and fear." I frowned, knowing that he was hurting deeply because of her actions. She was scared of what he had done and didn't know how to deal with it, so she backed off.
"You have to understand, Rick..." I trailed, knowing he wouldn't like my next choice of words, "She loved him. She denies it, but she did love him." Rick grimaced at my words, his head shaking as I cleared my throat. "Just try talking to her, please. She's hurting."
"I'm hurting too," Rick murmured, his eyes never meeting mine. I frowned, hating that Rick was so torn over this, but I couldn't blame him. His wife didn't even look at him for the first two weeks; It was like she was paralyzed by fear or something.
"I told you I'm with you through thick and thin." I told the man beside me, "And I mean it, but Rick... it hurts me to see you so distant. She's your wife, and you two need to work this out. I'm just looking out for you." Rick turned to me and smiled sadly, his sad eyes meeting mine briefly as he digested my words.
"Thanks, June." Rick whispered as we almost reached the house, "If I didn't have you here, I'd be going crazy. I need you to keep me in check and to call me out if I'm being an ass or something." I smiled and walked closer to him, my arm looping with his.
"That's what I'm here for, Grimes." I reminded him, "I have your back." We exchanged smiles as we separated and looked at the house. I hope Daryl and Glenn had a better day than Rick and me.
~*~
"Shit, shit, shit," I hissed as I hid behind a counter, my gun held near my face as I reloaded. The glass crunching under boots penetrated the still air, forcing me to fuse my lips to avoid making unnecessary noise. I could hear a tongue clicking as the crunching stopped and a gun cocked.
"Come out, come out wherever you are," The stranger's singsongy voice assaulted my ears, "I know you're in here, babycakes."
I cringed and pressed myself against the counter, trying to calm my racing heart. This guy and his group came out of nowhere! One minute, Daryl and I were ransacking this small mom-and-pop shop and the next, we're separated, and I'm playing this sick game of cat and mouse with a pervert. I don't even know if Daryl's okay! It all happened so fast!
"Come on, beautiful," The guy spoke again, "We'll have fun, I swear it." I grit my teeth and sucked in a silent but shaky breath. I have to play this smart and quiet. If I can make my way out, then maybe Daryl and I will regroup in the woods like we agreed. With an ounce of courage, I slowly peeked over the counter, watching as the guy made his way through the dusty isles. I'm lucky this is some sort of drugstore. The shelves will provide me with the cover I need.
I remained crouched and gripped my gun tightly, quickly and silently moving from the counter to the first row of shelves and pressing myself against them. I used the gaps to observe the guy, my breath hitching in my throat as he turned. His brow furrowed, and he swore under his breath before continuing his search. Hopefully, he gives up and leaves, but something tells me he hasn't seen a woman in a long time, so he won't give up that easily. When he turned his back, I took the opportunity to run to the next set of shelves.
I'm golden and home-free if I could continue this for six more shelves. I was able to move two more shelves forward before unknowingly stepping on glass. With the loud crunch, I shut my eyes and mentally swore at myself, knowing I just gave away my position. Bracing myself, I stood to my full height and lifted my gun, coming face to face with the disgusting man.
His hair was once blonde, but with the dirt and muck, it was a gross grayish color. He was missing three teeth, and his eye was swollen shut. He had been in a fight recently. Just as I was about to pull the trigger, he slapped the gun out of my hands and tackled me to the ground. I wrestled against him, mustering whatever strength I had left to pull my head back and headbutt him.
The sensation left us both dazed, but it was enough to make his grip on me slacken. Quickly shaking my head, I pushed him off me and tried to make a run for it. His hand circled my ankle and brought me tumbling to the ground, my chin hitting the cracked flooring and stunning me. I struggled against him as he straddled me, trying to remember my training and not panic.
"You've got some fight in you," He smirked down at me, "I like that."
Adrenaline kicked into overdrive, and I bucked my hips, successfully bucking him off me. I wasted no time in straddling him and balling my fist, letting it fall and connect with his face one too many times. I kept punching, my vision blurring and my mind dissociating. Eventually, he remained motionless under me, which was my signal to stop. When I came back to reality, I winced at the damage I had done. His face was all smashed in, and if he were alive, there was no way he'd remain alive for long. It reminded me of something out of Wrong Turn or something.
"June!" I turned and dashed out of the store, running into the middle of the street and coming face to face with a bloodied Daryl. A shaky breath left me, and I raced forward, colliding with Daryl and wrapping my arms around him. "You okay?"
Was I okay? I don't know what happened back there – I blanked out and went into overdrive. Daryl started to move toward the store I had just come out of, but I shook my head, stopping him. That isn't something either of us needs to see. Daryl turned and examined me properly, his lips set in a thin line.
"He dead?" He questioned with a steely tone in his voice. All I could do was nod. I don't know if he is, but he will be sooner or later. "You're bleeding." His cold hand touched my chin, offering the flaming skin some relief.
"Let's get back before more assholes show up," Daryl didn't need to be told twice as he led the way, constantly shooting me glances as we made our way back to camp.
"Grimes is gonna be a pain in my ass when we get back," Daryl muttered lowly. I wonder why?