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Morning comes with a hastily prepared breakfast of more canned goods. I notice our thinning supply, but I don't think it's anything to worry about. If all goes well in Atlanta, we'll be moving on soon. Plus, with Daryl back, I'm sure he'd be happy to go hunting for some fresh meat when he returns.
Through our meal, Rick creates a plan. Most of it includes fortifying the church. After a quick scan around the measly amount of tools we have available to do that, it's decided that we need to be resourceful and use whatever we can around us. When that thought is explained to Gabriel, he is not very excited to discover we'll be using the pews and organ pipes as part of our materials.
Sasha is the one who volunteers to take down a pew with an axe. The boards of wood taken from that will be used to cover the windows. Tyreese and Daryl dismantle the organ while Michonne, Rick, Carl, Noah, and I work on covering the windows with the wooden slats. We don't have any hammers, so we end up using candle holders and any other odds and ends we can find.
Noah brings out another stack of boards from Sasha. I can hear the splitting wood from inside sound off with her grunts each time she forces the axe onto the pew. I know why she volunteered to do that job. I think everybody does.
Noah gives Michonne and Rick a few boards so that they can finish working on their window before bringing the remaining ones over to Carl and me. "Thank you," I say as he sets everything down.
"Yep," Noah replies as he grabs a candle holder and a nail. He hands the nail to Carl, who begins to hammer it into the wall with a chair leg. Carl hands me his makeshift tool so that I can hammer a nail into the wood on the other end.
I look at Carl, who's still as serious as can be. He thinks he's going to Atlanta. He hasn't told me that yet, but I know that's what he's thinking. He's just like his father in so many ways, but I don't think he always realizes it.
Once we run out of boards beside us, I volunteer to get the next load. I walk into the church and take what I can hold from the pile that Sasha has crafted against the wall. I'm cautious to not touch any nails she might've missed when tearing the benches apart as I take the wood into my arms.
Daryl comes in with Tyreese and they take down the next few pipes. I follow Daryl outside when he takes the metal tubes and starts arranging them around the stairs. I notice Gabriel has come back to witness our work. He stands off to the side, biting his nails anxiously. "Well, are you going to take the cross, too?" he asks, almost angrily.
"If we need it," Daryl answers as he shoves a pipe into the ground forcefully. I take my bundle of wood and walk off to give it to the others.
Within an hour, the church has been fortified as much as we can get it to be with what little time and supplies we had. Standing back to look at it, I'm somewhat proud of what we did. Rick leads us back inside and starts gathering supplies, which I notice mostly consists of weapons. Daryl loads up a few guns into the blue duffel bag, being sure to leave some for us to defend ourselves if we need to.
Once those who are ready to leave have gathered what they need, everyone waits by the doors as Rick cradles Judith. He gives her a soft kiss on the forehead before placing her in Michonne's arms. He gives me a hug, then walks over to Carl and does the same. "We'll be back soon," he says. I can tell he doesn't want to leave us - that it's visibly hard for him - but we all know he has no other choice. He gives Michonne a weary glance before grabbing his things and heading to the truck that's parked out front. We watch them go for a second as they load themselves into the vehicle, but once they pull away, the doors are sealed in front of us.
"We have to board the doors," I say. Everyone already knows of this task, but I feel as tough saying it gives us more purpose to actually complete it. Michonne nods, setting Judith back into her basket. She starts fussing slightly, but quiets after a moment. Michonne and Carl carry a large board over to the door. I help hold it in the middle while they nail it to the door on either side. Judith starts screaming once the loud noises start. When the board is secured on the door, I walk to pick her up. The attention instantly silences her. I look at the door, knowing we're stuck inside now. There's no getting out, but I suppose there isn't anyway of anything getting in, either.
A scratching sound towards the back of the church causes me to turn. I see Gabriel sitting on his hands and knees, his nails scrapping away at the floorboards. He's determined on whatever he's doing; I'm just confused with what it is. I take a seat on one of the pews that's still standing and left fully constructed, Judith on my lap, and try to ignore the persistent scrapping noises.
A few minutes later, Gabriel rises from his spot on the floor and walks off to grab a small bottle of water along with a tattered wash cloth. He sits himself back on the floor and begins scrubbing away at the wooden floor boards with the cloth. It's not until a moment later that I realize what he's doing.
The people from Terminus were killed there. Their blood was spilt and now he's trying to clean it up. The only problem is that the crimson liquid has soaked into the wood long ago and there's no chance it's coming out now. I exchange a look with Carl who walks off and collects a variety of weapons before bringing them over to Gabriel and setting them out on the floor in front of him. I see an axe, a machete, and a pistol amongst the weapons.
Michonne takes a seat beside me as Carl starts to speak. "Pick one," he demands. Gabriel doesn't stop his work, let alone even acknowledge Carl's presence. "You need to learn how to defend yourself. We can teach you." Gabriel pauses for a moment before lifting his head up to Carl.
"Defend myself? They said they'd go." He motions to the floor and I know he's referring to the cannibals again.
"They were liars and murderers," Carl argues.
"Just like us?" Gabriel throws back.
"We protected ourselves. They wanted us dead. You're lucky your church has lasted this long. You can't stay in one place anymore; not for too long. Once you're out there, you're going to find trouble you can't hide from. You need to know how to fight." Dejected, Gabriel takes one more look at Carl as he reluctantly selects a machete from the cluster of weapons Carl has laid out in front of him. "Good choice, but you're not holding it right. You've got to be able to drive it down because sometimes, their skulls aren't as . . . soft, and you need to be able to-"
Gabriel raises a hand, cutting Carl off. "Yeah, I'm sorry." He rises to his feet, taking a shaky breath. "I need to lie down." He trails off to the back room where the sofa is.
"I was just trying to help him," Carl mumbles.
"I know," I reply, "but some people aren't ready yet." Carl dips his head, but I know he's not done trying when he goes back to rearrange the weapons neatly on the floor.
☾
After about an hour of silence, we still haven't heard from Gabriel. I assume he's asleep, or trying to be. I know what he's feeling. Having to finally pick up a weapon to do the fighting yourself doesn't feel right at first. At some point along the line, I guess you just get used to it.
I had to get used to it.
I remember one night in the Atlanta camp. It was late and my family and I were all inside our tent. My parents thought Milo and I were asleep, so they were speaking in soft voices to one another. "We're going to have to kill them," Dad had whispered. I knew he was referring to the walkers, something that nobody would directly speak of, but rather just whisper about through coded messages.
"You did one other time. It will be okay," Mom's sweet voice had reassured him. "It will get easier."
He let out a heavy breath. "That's the thing; I don't want it to get easier."
I hadn't understood what he meant by that, but now, I do. It changes you.
Just weeks later, he had to stop my mother from turning. After that, he had to move on with two grieving children hanging from his arms with fingers clutched to his wrists. I can't tell if it ever got easier for him. I don't know if he lived long enough for it to get easier, but I know the sad reality is that it has for me.
When I had to kill my first walker, I trembled as I did so. At some point after that, it became something I could do in my sleep - calculated movements that hardly required concentration, but rather just simple muscle memory. Even though I'm able to protect myself and I'm proud of that, I can't help but be sad my old idea of normality is gone. I'll never have what used to be, and the reality of that is nothing but harsh.
I used to go to school. My neighbor, Natalie, was my best friend. I had a life, although it was just one of a child, and now it's all gone. I wonder what kind of life I'd be living now if I weren't sitting in this church at the moment, missing my family, living off random canned goods, and surviving with people who had just been strangers in the start. Now, these people are my everything. They're all that I could ever care about in this world. If someone could've told me how close I would've gotten to be with these people about two years ago, I don't think I would've believed them.
Now, I don't believe I could ever let them go.
There are people in our group who we resented so deeply. I remember the things my dad used to say about Daryl. I don't blame him for believing those things. I agreed with him for the longest time. However, Daryl turned himself into a respectable person and member of our group. My dad even got to care for him towards the end of his own life. My judgement has led me to the conclusion that I would gladly trust Daryl with my life, which is something I might've laughed about in the start. Now, he's a family member of mine.
I don't ever want to lose him.
Sometimes, I think about the people we lost. I think of Jacqui. She was strong and brave. I wish she wouldn't have left us because she could've done so much that she didn't have time to. I don't want to judge, however, because she made her decision, and I guess that's something to respect. Sometimes, I have a hard time feeling supportive of it because my mom had wanted to live. My mom had died before our entry to the CDC, but I know she would've tried to get out of that place in a heartbeat. Knowing Jacqui didn't even want to give it a go made it feel like she had taken her life for granted and thrown it away.
It's something my mom would've taken back so quickly and easily.
I wonder about Eliza and Louis. Besides me, Carl, and Sophia, they were the only other children at the Atlanta camp. If we were in a room with them, would I even recognize them? We've all changed so much, both physically and mentally. Even though I haven't seen them, I'm sure they've had to go through the same alterations. Ever since I gave Eliza a hug goodbye before she got in the car with her mother and father, I was curious what would become of them. I remember hearing Lori whisper something to Rick. "I think it's stupid! It's safe here. They shouldn't be trying to pull their children into that awful world!" she had hissed, thinking nobody could hear.
We never saw them again after that and there was no way to hear from them. It wasn't until a while later that I was mature enough to come to terms with the fact that they were either off living a different life and we would never see them again, or they were dead, which would also lead us to never seeing them again. That's another reason why I'm so apprehensive to let people leave my sight. I feel like whenever they do, they'll just disappear. I can't let that happen to Glenn and Maggie. As soon as the others get back from Atlanta, we need to start in their direction so we can get to D.C.
D.C. is the only thing we have going for us right now. It's the only thing convincing me to keep drinking boiled stream water and cold canned food. I suppose that the past few days have been slightly more luxurious in terms of survival because we've had a consistent water source, a roof over our heads, and warm food at most meals. However, we did lose someone recently and there are still walkers present in the area. We never really get a break. We're never really safe.
In all honesty, I don't remember what safety truly feels like. Even when we were at the prison, a place with cinder walls that were surrounded by a few layers of fencing, there was still always the chance that you were in danger and would have to turn and run at any moment. Just look how that turned out. One day, when everything else had been normal, that's exactly what happened to us.
I woke up for breakfast and had a bowl of oats and cinnamon before doing my math papers and then ducked in the library to read my book. Everything felt so normal. It was boring, but normal. Little did I know that just a few, short hours later, I'd be running for my life.
Again.
I miss Hershel. I haven't realized it until now which makes me feel extremely guilty. My mind has just been so preoccupied in a million different ways that his loss has slipped from it. Now that I remember he's gone, I would do anything to get his wise words back. Hershel had a personality reminiscent of my grandfather's, so with him gone, it feels like I've officially lost my grandpa too. Maggie has been holding up fairly well. I don't know how Beth is doing. I hope that she is busy enough not to think about it right now and can save the thoughts for later when she has others around her to help her mourn.
As grim as it sounds, maybe it's a good thing that he didn't make it from the prison. I don't think he would've been able to flee. Anymore, all we do is run. Although I'm small and weak, I manage to keep up if I have to. I'm little enough to carry if it comes to that, but nobody would be able to carry Hershel. I hate the way it all ended, but it's too dangerous for him out here. Maybe my thoughts are just trying to convince me that it's okay he's gone, even though I'm not completely sure it is.
I look up from my book, which I couldn't focus on, and watch Michonne as she stands and walks to the office door. I wonder what Gabriel is doing. Now that I'm thinking about it, there's a faint rustling noise on the other side of the door. I press my book shut and set it on the bench beside me. I glance in Carl's direction, but he's not paying attention. He's been pacing the aisle and fiddling with his gun for the past half hour, which isn't exactly uncharacteristic of him.
When the door pulls open, I listen closely so I can hear what Michonne says. "You said you weren't feeling well earlier. Are you feeling better?"
Gabriel takes a look around the room, his eyes landing on me for just a moment before flitting away. "I was just resting." Judith begins to fuss. I almost rise to get her, but Carl quickly whips around and goes to tend to his sister, instead.
"Look," Michonne whispers, "I know all this is new to you. I just wanted to tell you that us - the things that we do - are worth it."
"I picked up the machete. What more do you want from me?" Gabriel asks, and edge in his tone.
"I don't want anything from you," Michonne states. "I'm just trying to help."
Gabriel gives Michonne a weak smile. "Thank you." He looks out the doorway once, giving me another look, before closing it in Michonne's face. Michonne looks to me, trying to give me a reassuring smile, before going back to take a seat where she had been.
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A/N: I hope you are enjoying!