We walked for at least an hour in silence. Next to finding Sophia, my main worry was getting split off from Daryl because I didn't have a clue where we were. Daryl walked around the forest like he'd been in them for years and always seemed to know where he was going. I—on the other hand—was completely useless.
I just tried keeping my mind focused on looking around for Sophia, sticking close to Daryl to reassure my never-ending thoughts that I wouldn't be lost in the woods forever and ever. Although, at this point, I probably deserved to be left in the forest.
Daryl glanced over at me a few times before asking, "You got a knife or somethin'?"
I nodded. "It's in my bag."
"Get it out," he said. "Ain't worth shit in your bag."
"It's not like I'll be able to kill anything anyway," I grumbled, pulling myself free of the backpack. I pulled out my knife, zipped up the pocket and pushed my arms back into the straps. Looking down at the knife, I held the holstered blade in two hands.
"Prob'ly shouldn't be out here then."
Daryl didn't look at me when he spoke, just glancing around at the nearby area, looking for Sophia. I was quickly reminded of what we were actually doing, and I cursed myself for almost forgetting.
"You said I could come," I argued, glancing around the forest just as he had been doing. "You know I can't do anything."
"I was just tryin' to piss Shane off," he told me. "You ain't gonna learn shit if you ain't allowed to leave."
I wondered if that was some kind of invitation, whether Daryl actually invited me out into the woods with him so I would be able to learn some skills for the new world. It was clear that the military was taking their sweet time dealing with the threat of the walkers, if they were even still dealing with it. Learning some of the skills seemed like a good idea now.
"He's just looking out for me."
I knew Shane and Daryl had never gotten on. When I joined the camp, they always butted heads, but Daryl never really stepped in unless Merle was playing up. The fact that he would bring me out to undermine Shane and his opinions was really funny to me.
Daryl scoffed. "You keep telling yourself that."
He seemed to believe it less than me because, after everything, I knew that Shane never wanted me to leave the camp because he didn't want to come looking for me. He always found a way to leave people behind back in Atlanta, and I was glad that Sophia was an exception to that.
I understood that Shane leaving people behind wasn't always his fault; in Atlanta, he was the leader, and he protected the group. Not many people were willing to go out and save the scouting group, and anyone who would have been willing was shipped off to the city. It just bothered me that he took all these precautions to keep the run group safe, and then he just left them there when they needed help.
And my dad . . .
As angry as it made me, I couldn't give Shane a lot of shit about leaving my dad because I left him too. I didn't know where he went, what direction to look in, anything. All I could do was wait there, but there was no way of knowing how long would be too long.
The trees opened up into a small field of grass, with a house in the middle. It was very secluded, like the one I had found before. Dirt covered every inch of the building's surface. The house looked like it was abandoned long before the walkers came. If it weren't empty before, it would most definitely be empty now.
"Stay behind me," Daryl whispered, pulling the crossbow off his back.
He pulled one of the bolts from the quiver attachment and loaded the bow. As he entered the house, he held a hand for me to stop at the door. He aimed his bow into the first room, glancing around for a few seconds before turning to the one opposite. His back straightened up against the frame as he turned around to look at the room completely, and when he was sure it was safe, he walked further into the house.
I waited by the front door, trying my best not to be a pain in the neck. Anxiety rose in my chest when he entered one of the rooms at the back of the house, and I pursed my lips, waiting for him to come back out.
After a minute or so, it was still quiet. I took a few steps into the house, quietly calling out, "Daryl?"
"All good," he called back. "C'mon."
I walked through the house and turned into the room I last saw him go into. It was a kitchen. Daryl was looking at a larder cupboard built into one of the walls in the kitchen, and in the bottom of the cupboard were a few blankets piled up.
"Someone's been here," he said.
"Someone as in Sophia?"
I knew he had no way of telling me that, but I needed to ask. The uncertainty of what happened to the little girl after I left her was killing me, and I needed any confirmation I could get that she was still alive and well. I wanted to be able to go back to the camp and tell Carol some good news.
"Whoever it was had to be small," he held his hand up at the same level as his elbow, gesturing to the height that he suspected this person to be. "No grownup is going to fit in there."
His statement filled me with hope, and I looked down at the cubby hole in the cupboard. My head cocked to the side. He was right, obviously. Only a child would have been able to hide within the cupboard.
"Let's take a look outside," he told me, nodding his head back to the door.
Daryl's eyes scanned the clearing, stopping when he saw something of interest. I followed his eyes, hoping that it would be Sophia, but I couldn't really work out what he was looking at.
"Go check that way," he pointed across the clearing to the side of the house. "Shout if you need anything. I'll be there now."
I just nodded, following the direction he sent me.
Walking the perimeter of the clearing, I kept my eyes on the forest. I wouldn't dare enter alone, knowing I would just get lost after the first step. I'm sure Daryl wouldn't appreciate having to look for me, although he may just leave me there. It would be my own fault. I wouldn't blame him.
His footsteps followed me a few minutes later. I looked back over my shoulder to see him walking over to me, his crossbow hanging over one shoulder. His other hand was clenched around a smaller object that I couldn't see until he was standing just in front of me.
He gestured his hand to the side, "Turn around."
I glanced at his hands, smiling, "Is that a flower?"
The white flower was sticking out the top of an empty beer bottle. The glass was brown and still has the sticker on the side of the bottle. Daryl just stared at me for a moment, not wanting to answer my question, but he did anyway.
"It's a Cherokee rose, for Carol," Daryl said matter-of-factly. He looked at me for a moment, waiting for some kind of revelation to appear on my face, but when he saw that I was still clueless, he started explaining it. "The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the trail of tears, the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much 'cause they were losing their little ones along the way. The elders said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope. The next day this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell."
"Cherokee?" I questioned. "Like Carol's car?"
Daryl just stared at me for a second, shaking his head in utter disappointment. Nothing new. He waved his hand to the side again, "Turn around."
"Okay," I huffed jokingly, trying to make my voice go as deep as it could.
Spinning on the balls of my feet, I turned, so my back was facing Daryl. I almost fell over when he grabbed the handle of my bag, pulling me backwards a few steps. He unzipped one of the pockets, and I presumed that he put the flower in the bag before zipping it back up. He patted the back of my shoulder when he was done.
"Come on," he said, shrugging his head in the direction we came from. "We should head back."
There were no walkers on the way back, which I was glad for. Daryl would have been able to kill them, but I would once again be standing there utterly useless. There was barely any point in me joining the search except for Sophia. I needed to find her soon; it was weighing on me. The guilt. I could be looking for her alone if I knew how to kill the walkers.
I remembered what Daryl said earlier, 'You're never going to learn if you're not allowed to leave'. As it replayed in my head, it sounded as much like an invitation as it had before. This may have been one of the only times I'd be able to leave the farm because when we find Sophia, I'll be stuck doing nothing. Again. If I learned to kill a walker, it would solve a lot of my problems. I would actually be able to help the camp.
The idea kept tugging at the back of my mind. After what happened in the woods, when the walker saw me, if I could have killed it, Sophia would still be here right now. I would never have had to leave her. I would have been able to bring her back to the motorway. But no. I couldn't kill the walker, and I had to leave her alone and defenceless.
I stopped in my tracks, turning to look at him, "Can you teach me how to kill walkers?"
"What?"
"You said so yourself; I'm never going to learn anything if I don't leave the camp," I repeated his earlier words, hoping that he would be swayed by his own logic. I realised that he didn't have a clue why I was asking, but I just continued as if it didn't matter. "I'm scared shitless of the walkers. I need to know how to kill them; if I could have killed them the other day, I wouldn't have lost Sophia."
Daryl was quiet for a long time, and I waited on bated breath while he mulled the idea over in his head, "Shane won't like it."
I was hoping for an actual answer; I assumed that this was his way of avoiding telling me what he really thought. He probably didn't want to waste his time helping me, and he probably didn't want the hassle of dealing with Shane.
"That's why I'm asking you."
Again, he was quiet.
Instead of answering my question, he just gestured his head back towards the farm, "C'mon, we're almost there."
My lips pressed into a thin line, and I exhaled through my nose, "Okay."
The walk back was silent. I mainly just cursed myself for asking for Daryl to help, completely embarrassed after getting shot down. My plan to learn how to kill walkers seemed hopeless, well, almost.
Shane had been talking about gun training for a little while now, which could be useful. I didn't like the idea for a few reasons. First, it would be a complete waste of bullets. I already knew I'd be terrible with guns, but if it were my only option, I would have to try.
Also, the shooting was loud. Walkers were drawn to noise, so shooting when you didn't know what was around didn't seem very safe. Killing one walker with a gun meant that anything else in a mile radius would also be able to hear. I wanted Daryl's help because he knew how to kill them quietly.
Rick greeted us when we came back. "How was it?"
"Got us a lead," Daryl answered. "Found a house with some blankets in the closet; whoever was using it couldn't have been bigger than this," he held up his arm as an example to Rick.
Rick's eyes widened, and he looked almost relieved, "Where was the house?"
"'Bout an hour that way," Daryl pointed back in the direction we walked from. "It's not a lot to work with, but it's somethin'."
"It's a good lead," Rick assured him, his head falling forward with a smile. "I'll flag it on the map. Thank you."
Daryl only shrugged, walking in the direction of the camp that was now basically completely built outside of the farmhouse.
Rick was quiet, but then he finally turned to me. "Was everything okay?"
I nodded.
"Good," he said. "That's good."
Rick seemed like he was waiting for bad news, but other than Daryl shooting my idea down, nothing terrible happened. He seemed relieved to hear that a run had actually gone okay, aside from finding Sophia. After what happened to Carl, it seemed like he needed some news that wasn't completely bad.
"I should probably go and put my tent together," I gestured back at the camp, pointing my thumb over my shoulder. "Unless I want to be sleeping on the ground tonight."
"Do you need any help?" Rick asked.
"Nah, I can do it."
Before I went to get my tent, I remembered that Daryl had left the Cherokee rose in my bag. I chased after him, calling his name. He was holding his own rolled-up tent in his arms. He stopped when he heard me, and he turned.
"What?"
"You forgot your flower," I grinned.
He rolled his eyes with a scoff, leaning over to place his tent on the ground. I pulled my bag from my back, grabbed the brown glass bottle and gave it to Daryl.
"There you go," I said with a smile. "I think Carol will love it."
I didn't give him the chance to say anything before I walked off, knowing that he probably wouldn't say anything anyway. I went to grab my tent from one of the cars and started putting it together at the edge of the new camp.
When my tent was built, I grabbed my things from the RV. Carol had left the room as I was walking in, and when I entered the bedroom, I noticed the flower sitting on the side table. I smiled before leaning down to grab my things from the drawer. I walked back out and towards my tent, crawling in through the open flaps and dropping my stuff in the corner.
"Camping again," I muttered to myself.
To pass the time, I decided to get my book out. Chapter 10 brought us to Bolvangar, which I assumed was a fictional place made up for the book. It sounded Nordic to me, which was a change as the first nine chapters were set in Oxford and London, two British cities.
I was interrupted after reading only a few pages, "Hey."
Turning my head up, I saw Maggie standing in front of me. She gave me a smile as I closed the book in my lap. It was only now I realised that she was carrying a small white plastic bag in her hands.
Before today I had barely spoken to Maggie, only in the kitchen earlier. A few times around the house when she was helping with Carl, but I mainly stayed out of her way because of what happened to Otis. She must have been masking her grief well because Otis had only died the night before.
"Hi."
"I wondered when you guys got back," she thought aloud.
I wasn't exactly hiding. I decided that saying that would sound a little harsh, so I didn't say it, "We got back an hour ago."
Maggie gave a nod, glancing down at the book in my hands. "What are you reading?"
"His Dark Materials," I told her. "Glenn found it for me."
If this were before the world went to shit, I would have given her a full in-depth description of what the world was about, but I had paid so little attention to reading that I could barely remember any of it myself.
Instead, I closed the book and held it up to her so she could see it. She took it from my hands and looked at the blurb, reading the description that was already there.
"Sounds interesting," she handed the book back to me.
I nodded.
Part of me expected Maggie to explain what she wanted and why she came over. It was weird for her just to stand there and give me small talk.
However, she did not explain what she wanted and instead asked: "How did the search go?"
I didn't really want to answer because the first thing that came to mind was that we didn't find her. I had to remind myself that we did make some progress, albeit small progress. I had to answer.
"We didn't find her," I said and then hated myself because it was obvious that we didn't find her, or she would be here right now. Everyone would be happy. "But Daryl found a house with blankets in a cupboard. He thinks that she could have been sleeping in there."
Maggie sat down on the ground next to me. One of her knees bent, and the other was tucked underneath as she leaned to the side, resting on one arm. "Glenn told me about what happened to you and the girl . . . Sophia. About how you jumped out to save her, lured a walker away when you were hiding."
I don't understand why Glenn would have told her this, so she had probably been pushing since what I said back in the house. Glenn was a terrible liar, as he told me back in Atlanta, so it probably wouldn't have taken much to get the story out of him.
"You're very brave."
The word was stupid. I was very stupid.
I assumed this is what Maggie had been building towards with her small talk about the book. The way she said it made it seem like I had been painting a horrible picture of myself, and she had to find the context, but I was still the one that lost Sophia. She was missing because of me, so calling me brave really didn't make me feel any better about it.
"It sounds to me like you did what you could to keep her safe," Maggie gave a small smile.
"It wasn't enough," I didn't mean to sound so harsh, and I don't know whether it was because of the period or the fact that I was disgusted with myself. Probably both.
Maggie didn't recoil at my tone, she didn't really react, which surprised me, "Maybe not, but you're trying to fix that. You're going to make it right. That's enough."
"I guess."
I had to agree with her; it was the only way to make the conversation end. The only way to make this situation right was to find her alive and safe. I'm not sure I could ever look Carol in the eyes again until we found her, let alone keep talking about it here.
Maggie knew that I was lying. I could tell by her expression. Her gaze moved to the ground, and that was when she remembered the white bag she had been carrying. She leaned forward to grab it and moved it over to me.
"I got you these at the pharmacy."
At the very top of the bag were a few packets, tampons and pads—both of the things I asked Glenn to fetch from the pharmacy. My eyes shot up to Maggie, knowing that she was clearly aware that I was on my period.
"Glenn told me you needed 'em," Maggie gave a smile.
I felt my cheeks get redder, and I looked down at the bag in my hands. He promised he wouldn't tell. Maggie was looking at me expectantly, but I didn't really know what to say. I didn't want to talk to Glenn about it, never mind her.
"I put some pain killers in there too, for the cramps," Maggie told me.
I moved some of the pads to the side to see the ibuprofen that she was talking about. Again, I had no words, still shocked that she knew that I was even on my period. I guess Glenn can't keep secrets. It's a shock no one knows I'm a mechanic right now.
"If you want anything else, come to me," Maggie offered, her lips turning up into a smirk as she nudged my shoulder. "Don't ask Glenn. He just grabbed whatever he could see. If I didn't spot him, you would have ended up with tampons the size of an eggplant."
I wanted to laugh, the image of Glenn grabbing the biggest sizes of tampons and pads was funny to me, but I felt too awkward that Maggie knew. She was being so nice about this, and I still wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
"Thanks," was all I could muster up.
"You don't have to be embarrassed," she said. "Everyone goes through it."
She seemed so nonchalant about the whole thing, which was weird to me, "Oh."
"It's not your first period, is it?" Maggie asked, suddenly aware that my silence may mean that I had never gone through this before.
"No, I just only ever really spoke to my dad about this stuff," I shrugged. "And that was once; since then, he just kept the cupboard stocked, so we didn't have to talk about it again."
Maggie was quiet for a moment, just looking at me after I spoke, "I lost my mom when I was younger," Maggie told me. "And my stepmom, not too long ago."
I wondered if she meant she lost her stepmother before the world went to shit or not. I didn't push, in case it was so recent, and I would bring up any unwanted memories. I knew that she was trying to get me to talk about my own mother, which wasn't making me that happy.
"If you need anything or just want to talk, you can come to me," Maggie concluded.
She pushed herself to her feet, giving me one last smile before turning and walking back to the farmhouse. I stood with her, letting out a deep breath that I didn't realise I was holding in.
As she walked away, Glenn passed her. He walked straight over to me, but I couldn't read his expression until he stood right in front of me and rambled about how sorry he was that he told Maggie.
"I'm sorry, I was grabbing the stuff, and she saw. I didn't mean to tell her. She just asked who they were for because I was taking the wrong sizes—"
"Glenn, it's fine."
"—I didn't even know there were different sizes until she told me."
My head tilted to the side. "I thought you said you had sisters?"
"Yeah, but I never bought them," he clarified, pulling off his hat and rubbing the back of his head. "I was just saying that you didn't have to be awkward about asking me."
"This was awkward, Glenn."
"Tell me about it," he huffed. "And this still isn't the worst thing that happened to me today."
"What?" I asked, the worry masking whatever embarrassment I had felt. "Did something happen on the run?"
"No, no. The run was—" he trailed off, his eyes moving off to the side to avoid my own. He cleared his throat, his face becoming impossibly redder, which left me beyond confused. He finished his sentence quickly when he realised how long he was actually taking. "Fine. The run was fine."
"So, what happened?" I asked again, more and more confused.
"They found a walker in one of the wells earlier," he told me. "And they wanted to get it out alive, so they lowered me down. The pump broke, and they almost dropped me."
A walker?
I had so many questions I didn't know where to begin. "Why did they want it alive?" For want of a better word.
"They didn't want to contaminate the water," Glenn explained simply like he didn't care.
"They . . ." My eyes widened, and I couldn't express the horror that had risen in my chest. "They wanted to drink the water?! How long was it there?!"
Glenn shrugged. "I don't know."
"They sent you into a well and almost got you killed for water that was very clearly undrinkable!" My voice grew louder, hoping that I could make him see how stupid the plan was. "You could have died! How are you okay with this?!"
"I didn't," he told me quickly. "I'm still here."
I crossed my arms. "You could have."
My voice was quiet again, but I was still angry. Glenn would never have agreed to that, not without complaining at the very least, and still. Yet, somehow they thought it was a good idea.
"You don't have to worry," he assured me, placing his hands on both of my shoulders. "I'm here. I'm okay."
"I clearly need to worry," I argued. "You need adult supervision. You can't be trusted to make decisions anymore."
He smiled at my joke, pulling his arms back and letting them fall at his sides. "Are we good?"
"No."
"Ace, I'm not going anywhere," Glenn said. "I promise."
I was still pissed, but not at Glenn. Sure, he was a dumbass, but he would have put some resistance to the idea before climbing down a well with a walker inside. At least, I hoped he would have.
No, I was mad at whoever was there and thought it was a good idea to risk someone's life for water that could probably kill us. I wasn't going to ask who was there because I would never get over the fact that drinking the water was even an idea, to begin with.
Glenn was one of the only people I could stand being around. He's been there for me since the beginning. The thought of losing him meant that the people in this camp would be complete strangers again. Glenn was the only person that didn't feel like I met him yesterday.
"Okay," I muttered.
When Glenn left, I crawled inside my tent to put the pads and tampons in my yellow bag, hoping to bury them under my clothes. Pulling out my grey hoodie, I found my red bandana at the bottom of the bag. In all honesty, I had completely forgotten it was there, so finding it was a surprise.
After hiding my girl stuff, I left my tent to join the rest of the group.
⚙️ ⚙️ ⚙️
It was turning night when the group started eating together. Dale handed around some meat he had been cooking for a little while. It didn't take me long to finish the food, so I handed the plate back and started walking to my tent to sleep for the night.
I only got a few steps from the campfire before I was stopped.
"Ace, hun?" Lori was walking over from the house.
I stopped and turned to look at her. "Yeah?"
"Can you sit in with Carl for me?" She asked. "I just need to take a quick shower."
I really didn't want to. After a whole day of avoiding his room, the last thing I wanted was to sit in there and see what I had caused. Carl almost died because of me, and I couldn't bear the thought of sitting in a room with him unconscious.
But then I remembered how long Lori and Rick had been in here, agonising over what happened and whether he would live. The least I could do was give the parents a break from the stress of looking at their little boy with a gunshot wound on a bed.
I nodded. "Okay."
I mostly kept my head down while I sat near Carl. I was teetering over the edge with my guilt, and watching his small, weak, broken body would positively send me diving off. Instead, I picked the dirt from my nails, fiddling with the seam on my jeans, anything to avoid looking at him.
"Ace?"
My head shot up. Carl's head was turned my way, his face pale and clammy.
"H-Hey," I stumbled over the word, surprised and relieved that he was able to speak and be conscious. "How are you?"
"My stomach hurts," the pain was audible in his voice. It was low and hoarse as if every word took effort.
"I know," I offered guiltily, unable to do anything but watch.
Carl looked around the room. "Where's my mom?"
"She's taking a shower; she asked me to sit with you," I explained before asking slowly. "Is that okay?"
Carl nodded.
"Mom told me Sophia is still missing."
My stomach did a somersault at the mention of her name, as it always did, but it was worse coming from him. It made me want to dive face-first off that edge. I tried to stop my eyes from darting away, but I couldn't bear to look at him with the guilt of losing his best friend.
"I'm sorry," my voice was quiet, and my eyes fell to the ground.
"It's not your fault," Carl managed to get out.
I couldn't answer him because I felt awful. It was my fault. Not just about Sophia, but for all the pain Carl was in, too—he could barely speak. It hurt that much. It should have been me in that bed, not him.
"We're looking for her," I assured quickly. "Daryl and I found a good lead today."
Carl shifted, squeezing his eyes together as he did, "I wish I could help."
"You just focus on getting better. That will help," I said truthfully.
It would help, maybe not just me but everyone. Once we knew Carl was getting better, that we wouldn't have to worry, it would help to bring the focus to Sophia.
"Okay," Carl agreed, but he looked grim.
I knew he wanted to say and do more, but he also knew that he couldn't. Carl, unlike his father, knew his limits. He knew when it was time to lay back. I respected that. Thinking back on Rick wanting to do everything after giving blood, announcing what he would do even though he could barely stand. I almost laughed and rolled my eyes at the memory; now that the situation wasn't so dire, it was funny.
Lori walked in not too long after; her hair damp and a towel over her shoulders to stop the water from dripping on her shirt. She smiled brightly at the sight of Carl awake and waiting for her, and she wasted no time getting right next to him and doting on him.
I was barely acknowledged, but I didn't mind. I'm sure seeing my son (kind of) healthy and alive would be a distraction.
I quietly excused myself to leave them alone.
Walking through the house, I saw Rick talking to someone. I tapped him on the shoulder and informed him that Carl was awake and talking with Lori. He quickly exited the conversation and went to them.
I smiled, happy and relieved about Carl's condition.
Now there was only Sophia.
I made my way out of the house and toward my tent, saying goodnight to anyone I walked past. I wanted more than anything to run into the woods and keep searching. But I was exhausted, and it was too dark. The best I could do for Sophia was rest and be ready for the morning.