To say Rosie was confused when she woke up was an understatement. The sun had gone down and the only light in the tent was from the dimly lit fire outside.
Rosie sat up quickly, remembering where she was. She was sitting on top of a sleeping bag. Not hers, though.
Placing her hand on the ground to steady herself, Rosie felt cold metal beneath her right hand. She looked down and saw a closed pocket knife placed next to the sleeping bag. Upon closer inspection, Rosie saw that it was her pocket knife.
Grateful that she'd finally had it back, Rosie stuck the knife in her pocket. She'd been wondering what had happened to it after that night in the woods.
She couldn't help but wonder who took it. Who had placed it in the tent for her?
She looked around the tent and saw Daryl in a sleeping bag on the opposite side. His back rose and fell steadily.
Asleep.
As Rosie stood up slowly, she kept an eye on Daryl to make sure he wouldn't wake up, especially when she started unzipping the tent. The sound of the zipper made anxiety turn in Rosie's stomach as she glanced back and forth between Daryl and the zipper.
She stepped out of the tent once there was enough room to slip through the flap, and didn't bother to zip it back up, not wanting to make anymore noise than necessary.
When she turned around, she almost screamed in surprise. Merle was sitting there, sharpening a knife.
He glanced up at the girl. "Christ, girlie. When I said you could sleep in my tent, I didn't think ya'd be in there all damn day," he said.
"Sorry," Rosie muttered. She still felt very tired, even after having slept all day. She knew it was her own fault, though. She wouldn't be feeling so tired if she wouldn't have refused to sleep in the first place.
She walked past Merle, heading back towards the place she'd been sitting in for the past three days. She figured she could sleep there. It was the backseats of a car, being used as a makeshift couch. Sleeping there would be better than sleeping in her own tent, Rosie decided.
When Rosie woke up the next morning, the sun was already fully risen. She sat up on the car seats, frustrated that she had slept so long.
She was still angry. She hated these people. She hated them. They wouldn't help her father when she needed them to, so she hated them.
That was why she was going to run away.
That was the main topic on her mind since her dad died. That was what she'd been thinking about for the three days that she had been sitting in that same spot. She was going to run away.
As she stood up, she adjusted her pants around her waist. The pants were a bit too big, and the slingshot tucked in the waistband just added to the discomfort.
She looked around, her eyes landing on a group gathered around the RV. The group consisted of Glenn, T-Dog, Andrea, Morales, Jacqui, and, surprisingly, Merle.
Rosie approached them silently, going unnoticed as she listened in on their conversation. They were going on a supply run to Atlanta. Usually, it was only Glenn who went on these supply runs. Rosie thought that maybe they were having more people go because it was safer. Maybe there were less geeks than before, meaning a larger group wouldn't be so dangerous anymore.
If only she would've gotten there just a few minutes before so she could've heard the real reason they needed more people.
The new supply run group struck an idea into Rosie's head.
Oh, she was going with them, whether they liked it or not.
Because they wouldn't know she was even there.
They were talking about riding to Atlanta in the truck. So all Rosie had to do was find a hiding spot in there and wait until they went into whatever department store they were looting. Once they were gone, she'd sneak out of the truck, never to be seen again.
So, she walked away casually, pretending she hadn't heard a thing, and headed towards her tent. She hated that tent and every moment she ever spent in it, so she decided she'd just leave it behind, along with her sleeping bag. The less noticeable she was, the better. Taking down a tent would be pretty noticeable.
Unzipping the tent, Rosie stepped inside and found her dad's pistol. She found her dad's belt with a holster attached and slipped it around her waist. Someone must have taken it off of his walker body and tossed it into the tent. They needed every weapon they could get, after all.
The belt didn't exactly go tight enough, so it hung loosely around her waist. She hated that it was the same belt her father wore and used every day, but she tried to ignore that fact because she needed it.
After tucking the pistol into the hostler, Rosie left the tent and made her way over to the cars. It was pretty easy to go unnoticed.
She snuck into the truck and hid herself beneath the seats. For once in her life, her small size was actually an advantage. The slingshot and gun dug into her abdomen painfully, but she ignored it, remaining silent as she waited.
Thirty minutes passed before the group loaded themselves into the truck, but it felt like years to Rosie. The drive wasn't long either, but it still felt like it was. Believe it or not, being curled up into a ball underneath an uncomfortable seat with a grown man sitting on top of it, wasn't the most comfortable position to be in.
Once the group left the truck, Rosie waited an extra ten minutes before sneaking out herself, not wanting any of the group members to see her leave. She shuffled her way out from underneath the seat and swung the door open.
When Rosie's red boots landed on the pavement and she was greeted with nothing, she was very underwhelmed. Glenn had made it seem like this place was crawling with walkers and it was an oh-so-dangerous sacrifice he was making when he came. So where were all the walkers?
She furrowed her eyebrows at the sound of gunshots. Now who the hell was popping off shots if this place was supposed to be crawling with geeks?
Maybe Glenn was just lying, she thought.
Rosie walked down the streets of Atlanta, not stumbling across a single walker. That is, until she turned a corner and saw not hundreds, but thousands of them. Some of them were circling around something in the middle of the road, and others were clawing at a tank. A real military tank.
Despite wanting to check out the tank, Rosie made the right decision and sprinted in the other direction. Some of the walkers noticed her and followed, too many for her to handle, so she ran into the nearest building, slamming the door and locking it behind her.
Looking around, Rosie found that it was some sort of sushi shop. It sure as hell smelled like it was. Rosie gagged at the smell of rotten fish that wafted its way out from the kitchen.
Despite the awful smell, Rosie made her way back to the kitchen, knowing that it'd be stupid to stay near the windows, displaying herself to the walkers like a cake in a bakery window. She sat on a stool she found and covered her nose and mouth with the fabric of her shirt, trying to block out the smell.
After awhile of waiting, she peeked out towards the front of the shop, seeing that the walkers were all gone.
Huh, she thought, must've found something else.
Slowly and silently, Rosie made her way to the window, trying to remain unnoticed by the blood thirsty dead people roaming the streets. She looked out at all of them, trying to hatch out an escape plan in her head. She watched for awhile, wondering if they were following something or moving in some kind of pattern. They weren't.
Huffing in frustration, Rosie slid to the floor, her chin resting on her hand. She kept watching, thinking it was completely and entirely useless. Until she noticed two walkers walking in a straight line down the center of the road. She rose to her knees, pressing her hands against the glass as she watched closely.
One of them was holding an axe.
Walkers don't hold axes.
The other was wearing a red baseball cap.
She knew that red baseball cap. It was the one that Glenn wore every single day.
Upon looking closer, she saw that it really wasn't two walkers; it was two men, both covered in guts. One of them was Glenn, obviously, and the other was some strange man Rosie had never seen before.
What the hell are they doing?
Where are the others?
Who is this guy?
Are the walkers really not noticing that the two men are very much alive?
Thunder rumbled and rain began to fall from the sky. Rosie still watched closely, wondering what in the hell was going on. Her heart rate began to quicken when the walkers stopped ignoring Glenn and the strange man. The strange man suddenly lifted his axe and slammed it back down into the heads of a walker. They sprinted towards a chain link fence and hopped it quickly before popping off rounds at the ones... climbing the fence?
How the fuck is that walker climbing a fence?
The men ran out of her sight, but it wasn't long before a red sports car came racing down the road, the alarm blaring. It caught all of the walkers' attentions, and they began following after it mindlessly.
It was clear. If Rosie was going to get out of that nasty-ass smelling sushi restaurant, it was then.
So, she swung open the door and sprinted into an alleyway. She followed along, making sure to stay out of the sights of walkers. She ran into a few along the way, but one at a time wasn't a problem. It was when they got into big herds like the ones following the red car that Rosie really had to worry about.
As she walked along the back alleys, Rosie began to hear a sort of wailing. It wasn't a crying type of wailing, but more of an angry one. A very, very angry voice. It was a man's voice, a scratchy one, screaming out in agony.
The groans of the dead started to become louder. Rosie growled in frustration as she saw them rounding the corner to the alley she was in. She ran into the nearest building, which was a department store. The glass on the doors was already shattered, so she ran to the stairwell. She could hear more growls coming from the top of the stairs, but she went up anyway, knowing that there'd be less up there than there was outside.
"You're gonna rot in hell!" the voice shouted.
That's when Rosie really recognized the voice. It was a voice she'd listened to talk on and on about stupid things she couldn't understand with her father. It was the voice that called her more badass than Daryl.
Did they leave Merle behind?
"Don't leave me here!" the man screamed.
Oh, they left Merle behind.
When she made it up the stairs, Rosie was met with seven of the dead. She raised her pocket knife and stabbed it into three of their skulls, leaving four more. She didn't have much room to work with and she considered resorting to using her dad's gun, but she didn't want to draw the other walkers up the stairs. So, after each walker she killed, she ran back a little ways down the stairs to get them to follow her. It was a workout, but she managed to kill all seven of them.
Rosie reached for the door knob and twisted. The door opened about three inches before stopping. She growled in frustration once again as she noticed a chain attached to a padlock. She kicked at the door hard, but it didn't make any difference.
Then she remembered the knife in her hand. She tried sticking it into the lock, but it was no use. It was too big to pick the lock. So she snuck back down to the store.
There were still some walkers hanging around, but most had gone out the back. She searched the store until she found exactly what she needed: a bobby pin.
She'd also picked out a few things of her own because she wasn't in any hurry... at least that's what she told herself.
First, she'd picked herself out a backpack. It was dark blue and had a space pattern with doodles of planets, stars, and rocket ships. She told herself the reason she'd picked that one was because it had a lot of straps and pockets she could use for weapons, but she really just picked it because she liked the space design. She also found a small pin with a ladybug on it, and attached it to her new bag.
As Rosie walked around the store, picking things out, she stumbled across the coloring book section. She wasn't sure why, but her stomach bubbled with excitement. She knew it was probably stupid, but she'd never had a coloring book before. So she looked through the isle, trying to pick one out, when her eyes landed on a coloring book with a Tyrannosaurus rex on the cover.
If there was one thing that Rosie loved, it was dinosaurs. Whenever she'd have library day at school- back before the dead started walking- she'd always pick out a book about dinosaurs. They fascinated her. When she was really young, around pre-school age or so, she thought that dinosaurs were like unicorns and mermaids; just pretend. Because they were far too cool to be true!
After putting the dinosaur coloring book into her new backpack, she grabbed a pack of crayons. She also found some small, plastic dinosaur toys. She didn't hesitate to put a velociraptor, a brachiosaurus, a stegosaurus, and a triceratops into her bag.
The last thing Rosie picked out before going back up to the roof to pick the lock, was a light gray t-shirt with a crocodile on it. She couldn't believe all the cool things in the store, but she knew she couldn't take all of it.
Rosie smiled at her new finds, despite trying hard not to. She'd never had these types of toys and clothes before. Her dad always said it was a waste of money. She was beyond excited to have them.
Running back up the stairs was yet another unwanted workout, but Rosie did it anyway. She stuck the hair pin into the lock and twisted it around in there for a good two minutes until she finally, finally heard the lock click. She dropped the hair pin to the ground, not thinking she'd need it again, and pushed through the door before turning back around and slamming it shut.
With a huff, she slid down the door until she was sitting. Her eyes were closed as she tried to catch her breath, so she didn't see the man staring at her from about 10 feet away.
"Now what the hell are you doin' here, girlie?" Merle's raspy voice asked. Rosie jumped up and raised her knife. She lowered her knife just as quick as she'd raised it though, immediately recognizing the voice as Merle's.
"Runnin' away," Rosie said, making Merle chuckle at the thought of it.
Furrowing her eyebrows at him, Rosie walked closer to get a better look at him. He looked tired and sweaty, like he'd been there for a long time. She felt bad for him, sure, but there wasn't anything she could do. He was handcuffed. She didn't have the key.
"Why're ya locked up?" she asked him.
"Some pussy ass cop locked me up here," Merle complained, tugging on the handcuff around his right wrist. "Son of a bitch!"
"I hate cops," Rosie muttered, thinking back to how Officer Shane had gotten her in trouble with her dad, and how he dragged her away from her dad when he needed help.
"You an' me both, darlin'," Merle replied, finding her comment amusing. He looked from the saw on the ground up to Rosie. An idea popped into his brain. He didn't like the idea, but it was his last resort. "Hey, why don't'cha gimme that saw over there," Merle, said pointing towards the saw that had been knocked out of Dale's tool bag.
Rosie furrowed her eyebrows, walking over to the saw and picking it up. She looked between the saw and Merle. "What're ya gonna do with it?" she asked, holding it at her side.
"I'm gonna do whatever I have to ta get outta these damn handcuffs!" Merle shouted out in anger. Rosie jumped a little at his yelling, finding it very annoying.
"I ain't the one that locked ya up here," she said as she glared at him, "Quit yellin' at me."
"I'm askin' you nicely, lil' girl," he said, giving Rosie a stern look. "Gimme that saw."
"I don' think a saw's gonna cut through handcuffs, sir," she said, looking at the tool in her hand. There was no way that thing was cutting through metal, and they both knew it.
"It ain't for the cuffs," Merle said.
"What's it for?"
"Use yer fuckin' brain! What d'ya think it's for?!" Merle shouted. Rosie glared at him for a moment, thinking. Then her eyes widened in realization.
"You're gonna cut off your hand?" she asked, her eyes wide.
"Come on, girlie. Just c'mere. Help me out," Merle said. Rosie took that as a yes. She shook her head adamantly and held the saw behind her back. Merle gave her the meanest death stare she had ever been given, even meaner than her dad's.
The look on his face made Rosie's stomach churn, but she tried to ignore it. Merle was acting angrier than before, but Rosie wasn't sure if it was because he was locked on a roof or because he hadn't used his powder for too long. Her dad always got angrier when he didn't use his powder for too long.
"Lil' girl, I swear to ya, if ya don't do what I say, I'll do ta you what I did ta yer daddy," Merle threatened in a low voice. Rosie's head got foggy at the mention of her dad.
"What?" she asked, completely confused. Her confusion morphed into anger when Merle didn't answer. She marched forward towards him. "What'd ya do to my daddy?!" she asked him aggressively.
When Merle still didn't answer, Rosie kicked him hard in his side, making him grow even more irritated with her. With her close proximity, though, it gave him the chance to grab her wrist and pull her towards him. She shrieked in fear as his grip on her wrist tightened.
"Let go a' me!" she yelled at him. He pried the saw from her hand. "No! No! Stop it!" She tried to pull the saw from his hand, but it was no use. "Stop it! Give it back, you asshole!" she shouted.
"You quit yer screamin' 'fore I knock ya on yer ass," Merle growled, pushing her away by the shoulder. It was difficult, though, considering he only had one free hand.
"What did you do to my dad?!" she screamed in his face.
"I killed that motherfucker! Now shut yer goddamn mouth, girl!" Merle shouted right back. Rosie's eyes widened and she stopped screaming. She took a few steps back, her hands raising to her eyes. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to calm herself. It wasn't working.
Before she knew it, Rosie was back in front of Merle, kicking him and punching him and screaming at him.
Merle was never a patient man.
So when she wouldn't stop thrashing around and trying to hurt him, he pushed her away with all the strength he could muster up in his left arm.
What he didn't mean to do, though, was to push her to the ground. When Rosie fell, she fell back into the short cement wall that lined the roof, slamming her head on the concrete.
And everything went black.