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The next morning, Daryl tells us all about how he heard someone in the woods last night. Rick isn't sure he heard anyone at all. I can't say I'm sure, either, but I also don't have a reason to not believe Daryl. There are rotting corpses walking around every square inch of these woods. It's hard to pinpoint a sound out here, especially in the dead of night when everything seems still around you. It could've just been a walker he was hearing. It's decided he searches the area, which seems like a good enough idea to me. When he comes back to camp with a slew of dead squirrels and no captive an hour later, I'm relieved. We pack up the few belongings we each have to start off again.
I walk with Carl, his tired body holding me upright like, a formation we have resumed for what feels like so long. I feel extremely guilty giving in and accepting his help since I keep getting the impression I'm just slowing him down. He doesn't seem to mind, however. I guess that just makes it worse because, even if it was a problem, he'd never have the heart to tell me that.
As we move along, I hear Sasha and Bob speaking to each other - playing one of their games. Every time that she speaks about one of the negatives of this awful world, Bob is able to flip it into something good. Usually, the game would make me smile. It's sweet and is clearly good for helping us see the better side of things. The thing that makes me want to turn around and demand they stop is their blind optimism. We are drowning in a pile of shit right now and have no space for air. There isn't a whole lot of good to look for within our situation, and especially not right now.
I try to be like that, too. I try to be able to look for the good in any situation. I was optimistic about Terminus. Terminus was a chance for us to live. Now, I don't think I can look at anything in such a way. - like it holds all the answers to our problems. Nobody survives out here. No matter what I want or wish for, it doesn't matter. None of it does. The world gives you shit and you just have to decide what to do with it. I really wish that wasn't the case, but I think it's time that we look it dead in the eyes and deal with it instead of trying to tiptoe around the situation and twist it into some sort of hopelessly good opposite.
I hear Sasha's laughter come from behind me. I accidentally grip onto Carl's arm tighter than I even notice, which causes him to ask me if I'm okay.
"Fine." It's all I can get out as I limp along. I wonder if my leg will ever fully heal. At this rate, it doesn't feel that way at all.
There's a scream from in front of us that drowns out any note of happiness that had been lingering amongst the others, and I can't even confirm if it had been very much. I can feel my heart immediately beating rapidly as my eyes search for the source of the sound. With the trees around us, it's impossible to know exactly where the owner is located. The scream gets distorted so easily.
"Dad, c'mon!" Carl urges to Rick, who's standing to the left of us. I can already tell that Rick would like to turn around and walk in the other direction, acting as though he never even heard anything to begin with. If I'm being honest, so would I. Whoever the hell is out there is just another mouth to feed with the food we already don't have. "Dad! Let's go!" Rick takes another look in front of us and lets out a deep sigh.
Rick looks back, giving us a wordless confirmation, and we all kind of start running simultaneously without another mutter. Daryl pushes through the group, getting ahead, and goes running in front of all of us, marking our pace. I get dragged along, of course, but I can say that I'm starting to get used to it. I have to start getting used to it at this point. I hate feeling so helpless, but I don't have much of a choice. It's better to just go along with it than object and get hurt worse.
Sticks catch on my clothes and almost pull me down to the ground. Carl manages to keep me upright with a firm hand on my arm. With his free hand, he swats the branches that are hanging low above us, making sure they don't make contact with our faces. After a few minutes of stumbling through the dense forest in pursuit of the mysterious person, we discover a large rock, about the size of a small tool shed, that's holding a man above a herd of hungry walkers. They're hands slap against the stone surface in an attempt to get closer to a possible meal. The screams for help don't stop once the man sees us. In fact, they only become more desperate.
One of the walkers has a hold of the man's pant leg. The dirty fingers pull at the fabric. I stand beside Carl, out of breath from the short jog, as the adults begin to start fighting off the small collection of walkers. Daryl manages to bring one down by shooting it through the head with an arrow. Michonne slams another against the rock with the butt of her gun. Gradually, the monsters begin to notice our presence and start to stray away from the rock.
The walker that was holding onto the man's pant leg lets go, but is immediately put down by Carol and her knife before it can get very far. There weren't many walkers, which causes me to believe the situation is a little suspicious. "Is this a set-up?" I hiss to Carl. I watch as his eyes survey the area, trying to decide.
He shrugs. "I don't know."
"It's clear. Keep watch," Rick says as he looks to the man on the rock. "Come on down." There's a moment of hesitation before the frightened man begins to crawl towards the front of the rock. He looks nervously over the edge.
The man wears a dark suit and white collar. He's a priest, clearly, but the whole situation confuses me. He slides off the rock and lands on the ground, still breathing heavily. I wonder if he's scared of us or what just happened to him. I'm guessing it's a combination of both.
Rick walks towards him and begins sizing him up. "Are you okay?" he asks. Without replying, the priest nods his head. The fear is still in his eyes as he does so. Then, he raises a finger, as if to tell us to wait, before bending over and vomiting all over the ground. I have to look away to stop myself from doing the same. Carl begins to turn away, so I bury my face in his shirt sleeve until the horrible retching sound is over with.
When the priest meekly whispers, "Sorry," I will myself to look back. I just make a note to divert my eyes from the ground so I don't make myself sick. "Thank you. I'm Gabriel," he continues.
"So you have any weapons on you?" Rick interjects, producing his most intimidating voice. Gabriel let's out an uneasy laugh before shrugging his shoulders.
"Do I look like I would have any weapons?" I shoot him a glare the second his eyes move to mine. Something about him just doesn't settle right with me and I don't like it one bit.
"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," Abraham remarks in a gruff tone.
Gabriel takes a breath before trying to speak again, almost as if assessing us for who we are. "I have no weapons of any kind," he declares, more sure of himself this time. The thing is, he still hasn't convinced me of anything yet. "The word of God is the only protection I need."
"It sure don't look like it," Daryl argues.
"I called for help. Help came." Gabriel gives a toothy smile as he looks around at the rest of the group. When nobody smiles back at him, the grin disappears and his face becomes serious again. "Do you h-have any food?" he asks Rick. "Whatever I had left just hit the ground."
There's a shuffling at my side as Carl reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of the pecans we had for breakfast this morning, some of the last good reserves we had left as a gift from Carol. "We have some pecans," he says proudly, reaching his hand out to offer the stranger the food. Gabriel reaches his own hand out and accepts the gift.
"Thank you," he says graciously, taking the pecans for himself. I look up to Carl and I can't help but let myself selfishly think that those few nuts would've been better spent on members of our group. Judith makes a babbling sound towards the back of the group, where Tyreese is holding her. Everyone turns their heads to look at her. "That's a beautiful child," Gabriel compliments. Nobody responds.
I look at Rick's face and notice that it's been taken over by a large smirk. When nobody replies to Gabriel's statement, he dips his head to stare at his hands. "Do you have a camp?" he questions.
"No," Rick responds. "Do you?" He takes a daring step forward, which noticeably makes Gabriel uncomfortable. He finally nods.
"I have a church."
"Hold your hands above your head." Gabriel obeys. "How many walkers have you killed?"
Gabriel let's out an awkward laugh at the question as Rick continues to check him for weapons. "Not any, actually." That seems impossible, to me.
"Turn around," Rick demands and spins him so he's facing the rock that is now covered in stains of red - traces of drying blood from the dead. "How many people have you killed?"
"None," Gabriel answers, as if bewildered anyone would ever ask such a thing.
"Why?"
"Because the Lord opposes violence."
"What have you done?" Gabriel's face changes expressions countless times as Rick's next question registers on his face. "We've all done something." That statement is truthful. I've killed. I had to. I would do it again if it were to come to it.
"I'm a sinner," Gabriel sighs. "I sin almost everyday, but those sins - I confess them to God; not strangers."
"You said you had a church?" Michonne interrupts. Gabriel nods. "Then, let's go." There's another brief moment of hesitation before Gabriel can lead us down a leaf covered trail and away from the rock.
Gabriel takes up the lead with Daryl, Michonne, and Rick surrounding him. I tug on Carl's arm to make him bend his neck towards me. "I don't know about this," I whisper lightly. Carl moves his head back far enough for the two of us to exchange a glance before he speaks in my ear.
"We have no choice but to try." He's right. I give him a doubtful glance as he pulls away. After everything we've just lost, I don't think we should be risking our lives again. If Gabriel is lying, we could be screwed. We have numbers and we're a force to be reckoned with, but we're also exhausted and weak. Too much of anything will take us out if we aren't prepared for it.
"Hey, earlier, were you watching us?" Rick asks Gabriel, not stopping his quick pace to do so.
"I keep to myself. Nowadays, people are just as dangerous as the dead. Don't you think?"
"No," Rick disagrees.
"People are worse," Daryl explains. There's far too much truth in that statement for my liking.
"Well, I wasn't watching you. I haven't been beyond the stream near my church more than a few times since it all started. That was the furthest I've gone before today." I tug on Carl's sleeve again.
"Do you think he was in our campsite last night? Do you think that's what Daryl heard?" I know Carl heard me, but he doesn't reply. Instead, he keeps his eyes trained on Gabriel in front of us.
"Well, maybe I'm lying," Gabriel continues. "Maybe I'm lying about everything and there's no church ahead at all. Maybe I'm leading you into a trap so I can steal all your squirrels." He lets out a slight laugh afterwards, but it doesn't convince me that he's joking. It doesn't convince anyone else, either. "Members of my flock had often told me that my sense of humor leaves much to be desired."
"Yeah, it does," Daryl says gruffly. When Gabriel turns around to keep walking, he almost runs into a tree branch. He's clearly intimidated by us. Hopefully, that will be enough to keep us safe.
After another few minutes of silent walking, the trees around the trail begin to thin until they part completely to reveal a road. On the other side of it is a white church. It's small and simple with a wooden door and a set of stairs leading up to them. So far, his story isn't a lie. Things seem to be checking out.
An old sign hangs on a post with the words "ST. SARAH'S CHURCH" on it. Gabriel goes walking straight to the doors, but Rick orders him to stop. "Hold up. Can we take a look around first? We just want to hold on to our squirrels." He jogs up the steps and meets Gabriel at the door with an open palm for the key. Cautiously, the priest places the key into his hand. Rick uses it to unlock the door and half of the group follows behind. The other half of us have to wait and keep an eye on Gabriel. I do just that.
From the staircase, I can barely see inside the church. It's pitch black in there. There's the creaking of floorboards and doors opening. Each small noise is more ominous than the last. I don't know whether or not to be afraid of the fact there's no screaming coming from inside.
After several minutes, everyone files back outside with their guns at rest or pointed at the ground. Rick hands Gabriel his key. "I spent months here without stepping out the front door. If you found someone inside, well, it would've been surprising.
"Thanks for this," Carl speaks up, nodding to the church.
"We found a church bus out back. It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two," Abraham says, coming to Rick's side. "Father, here, says he doesn't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport. You understand what's at stake here, right?"
"Yes, I do."
"Now that we can take a breath-" Michonne tries to say, but is interrupted.
"You take a breath, we slow down. Shit inevitably goes down."
"We need supplies; no matter what we do next."
"That's right," Rick says. "We need water, food, and ammunition."
"The church bus ain't going nowhere. I'll bring you back some baked beans," Daryl says to Abraham as we all begin filing into the dark church. I walk down the aisle, not needing Carl's assistance for the first time in a while, until I find a pew that seems decent enough for me. I set my bag down on the ground and take out my water bottle. Carl comes to the same pew and sits down beside me, with Judith on his lap.
"You're still unsure," he states.
"Yup," I reply honestly.
"You don't have to be. He wasn't lying." I twist the lid back onto my bottle and furrow my eyebrows.
"He wasn't lying? We don't know that yet." I lower my voice as I speak. "Remember that Terminus place? We thought that was safe, too, but they almost tried to eat us." I put my water bottle away and shake my head. "We don't know shit yet."
"Emmie, this is one guy. He hasn't tried anything yet. He's a goddamn priest!"
"Yeah? Well, wasn't Terminus supposed to be a sanctuary? Tell me what happened there." I cross my arms over my chest as if I were a toddler. After everything we've been through, he still doesn't understand why we need to be cautious. I don't think I used to completely understand before.
Then again, I was being a little harsh. "I didn't mean to come off that way. I'm just tired and I'm sick of being scared."
"Me too." I wonder how many days it's been since the prison went down. It's been two nights since Terminus. A night before that, we were ambushed by the men on the highway, and we only slept two nights in the house on Clove. That makes it less than a week ago, even though it feels like it's been a lifetime. I can hardly believe it. I feel as though I'm an elderly person, who's looking back onto a memory from their childhood as they attempt to grasp an image so far, yet so clear.
I remember everything about the prison. I remember the springs in my mattress and each crack on the wall because I would trace my finger through every one before falling asleep. I remember the musty smell that always filtered through the cell block. The only time it was diminished was when Carol would light the apple scented candle that she had tucked away in her quarters. I remember the layer of dust on each book in the library, and the particular arrangement of everything in my cell. I remember the security my nook in the library had given me when I needed a place to relax. I remember the sound of laughter that the children carried on. All at once, I feel like it isn't even there at all. I feel like it never even was a thing to begin with.
Then, there's the things I wish I didn't remember. I remember the shiny blade of Michonne's katana slicing effortlessly through Hershel's neck. I remember the steady stream of blood spilling onto his white shirt. I remember the gate falling down. I remember pulling the trigger and watching my target fall to the ground. I remember finding Rick, his body a tattered mess. I remember the empty car seat with the stains of maroon coating the patterned fabric. The only thing that wakes me from my daze is Judith's cry from beside me.
"Emmie, can you hold her a second?" Carl asks. I nod and let him set her onto my lap. Carl gets up from the pew and walks off to talk to Rick, who's still arranging things towards the front of the church. Judith stops her crying as soon as I hold her. I can tell she's tired, so I let her lay her head on my chest so she has a chance to rest. I smooth my fingers over her soft hair, lost in thought. She's so gentle. She deserves more than this. She deserves more than Milo ever got.
"You'll get a chance," I whisper in Judith's ear softly. A chance is worth a hell of a lot more than what you'd think these days. It's half of survival. Being at the right place at the right time is half of the struggle. Somehow, Judith has been at the right place numerous times. I need her luck to continue. I can name far too many people who had their time, sadly, run out.
Was my time ever supposed to run out? Obviously, everyone's does one day, but did mine somehow come and I managed to escape it? If I did, did I set someone else's timer off? Some of the things I have to think and worry about just aren't right. They aren't the kinds of things a fourteen year old should be concerned about.
I look up to see Rick coming my way. He has somewhat of a lighter expression on his face. I think the two of us know that we aren't out of the woods yet, but the relaxation won't be passed on. "I can take Judith," he offers. I don't want to hand her over because her warmth is giving me a sense of security I hadn't felt earlier. Just the same, I give her up. "Take some time and relax, Emmie."
I want to ask Rick's honest opinion on this place, but I don't get the chance since Gabriel comes walking over to his side. "How'd you survive here for so long?Where'd your supplies come from?" Rick questions.
"Luck and our annual canned food drive. Things fell apart right after we finished it. It's just me." Carl comes walking over and takes Judith from Rick. "Everything lasted a long time and then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby. Well, except for one." The way he says it, I know that whatever stopped him is dangerous.
Carl comes over to my pew and sits back down beside me. I'm too focused on Father Gabriel's words to mind. "What stopped you from clearing it?"
"It's overrun."
"How many?"
"A dozen or so, maybe more." I almost laugh out loud. He couldn't clear a place with only a dozen walkers himself? If he could find a way to contain them, it'd be an easy mission. If whatever is inside that pantry is worth taking, it'd be even better. A few people exchange looks. It's clear we're all thinking the same thing.
"We can handle a dozen," Rick speaks.
"Bob and I will go with you. Tyreese should stay here and help keep Judith safe," Sasha says, beaming a smile at her brother from across the room. Tyreese ducks his head and grins.
"Would that be okay?" Rick asks.
Tyreese nods. "Sure. If you ever need me to watch her, I'd do anything for her. I'm right here."
"Yeah, and I'm grateful for it," Rick replies, "and everything else." He crosses the room to be closer to Tyreese as he speaks. He gives him a nod of gratitude before Gabriel continues.
"I'll draw you a map."
"You don't need to. You're coming with us." Gabriel looks quite caught off guard by Rick's commands.
"I'm not gonna be of any help. I mean, you saw me. I'm no good around those things." His oddly happy smile brings back my unsure opinion towards him.
"You're coming with us." Gabriel seems to finally realize his place. If you don't know Rick, don't argue with him.
Everyone disperses and begins to gather supplies for the run. When Gabriel goes into one of the back rooms and is finally out of earshot, Rick comes over and begins talking to me and Carl.
"Listen, I don't trust this guy," he says in a low voice. I'm glad to know we're on the same page.
"Me neither," I agree.
"Why?" Carl asks. I don't think he fully understands what's going on around him.
"Why do you trust him?"
Carl shrugs his shoulders at the question. "Everybody can't be bad." Rick takes a breath as he absorbs the answer fully.
"Well, I don't trust this guy. That's why I'm bringing him with me." His eyes dart between the two of us as he explains himself. "But, he could have friends, so I need you two to stay on the lookout and help Tyreese protect Judith. Okay?" We both nod. "Now, I need you to hear what I'm about to say."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"You guys are not safe. No matter how many people are around, or how clear the area looks, no matter what anyone says, no matter what you think, you guys are not safe. It only takes one second. One second, and it's over. Never let your guard down, ever." The intensity in Rick's eyes let me know how serious he is about what he's saying. "I want you two to promise me."
"I promise," Carl says immediately.
"Okay. You?" he asks, looking at me with a raised brow.
"I promise." As soon as the words come out of my mouth, Rick stands back up and starts towards the doors.
"Dad," Carl calls before he can get more than a step. He stands up so they can stick together as they talk. "You're right: I am strong. We both are, but we're strong enough that we can still help people, and we can handle ourselves if things go wrong. We're strong enough that we don't have to be afraid and we don't have to hide."
"Well, he's hiding something."
There's a moment of silence. "I'll stay safe, Dad. We both will." Carl motions back to me and I nod to prove he's correct. Rick pats Carl on the shoulder and lands a hand on my head before walking away and leaving us in the church. The only sound filling the empty room is Judith's quiet breathing from the basket between us on the pew.
________
A/N: I honestly still don't know how I feel about Gabriel because I had a love/hate relationship with him, but I also feel like you couldn't dislike the guy . . .