A day had passed and Rosie decided she ought to check on Randall to see if he was awake. She wanted to meet him and ask him questions. She hoped he was nice. They hadn't had any new additions to their group since they got to the farm. A new person was exciting.
Rosie made her way to the shed, checking behind herself every so often to make sure that no one was following. When she got to the shed, she went to the same wall she'd been next to last time she came. Peaking through the opening, she could see that Randall was awake. He held a pained expression on his face.
"Hey," Rosie whispered.
Randall's head snapped up. "Who- who's there?" he asked nervously. He had a southern accent, similar to Maggie's, but not as strong.
"One sec," Rosie said. She went around to the other side of the shed so that the wall she was leaning against was the same wall Randall was leaning against from the other side. She couldn't see him anymore, but she could hear him better, being closer. "I'm Rosie," she said.
"I'm Randall," Randall replied, leaning his head to the side so he could hear her voice better. "How... how old are you?" he asked.
"Nine. How old are you?" Rosie replied. She leaned her back up against the wall, absentmindedly picking at the grass beneath her.
"I'm twenty. It's nice to meet you, Rosie," Randall said.
His breathing was heavy, like he was constantly out of breath. Rosie guessed it was because his leg was hurting. "What happened to your leg?"
"I hurt it real bad. Fell on a fence post. But you're- you're people, they fixed me up. Did you ever get hurt like that?" Randall asked, trying to get to know more about the girl. The more he knew about her, the easier it would be to convince her to let him go.
"I got stabbed in the leg when I jumped out of a tree a little bit ago. Still got the stitches in. I don't know when they're s'posed to come out, though," Rosie said, looking down at her own leg. It hadn't been hurting nearly as much as it used to. It sometimes stung if she bumped it on something, though. "I sprained my ankle real bad once, too."
"Oh, yeah? How?"
"I was slidin' inta home plate, but it was before I was any good at slidin'," Rosie said, remembering how much her ankle hurt in that moment. Coach Smith had come out and helped her get back to the dugout. When she sat down on the bench, he had her move her ankle, and every time she did it, it hurt so bad. She tried hard not to cry, but it hurt too much. Coach Smith didn't yell at her for it, though. He just sat down on the bench next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.
"You played baseball?" Randall asked, his eyebrows raised. "I played baseball, too. For my high school. I sucked, though. What position did you play?"
"I was a catcher. What about you?"
"I played left field, but I was usually on the bench," Randall replied. He talked very fast and Rosie thought it was because he was excited to have someone to talk to. "Hey, you should come in here. So I can- so I can meet you."
"Ok," Rosie said, shrugging to herself as she stood up. She looked around the shed again, hoping to find a way in. Much to her luck, there was a window type of opening in the back of the shed. It was up high, though, so she had to climb on top of a wheel barrow to get up to it. When she got inside, she climbed down a ladder and sat on the ground across from Randall.
"I- I like your cowboy boots. They're real cool. Where'd you get them?" Randall asked as he stared at Rosie, putting on a friendly smile.
"They were my big brother's boots. They're a little too big for me, but they're the only ones I got," Rosie replied, shrugging.
"You have a brother? What's his name? Maybe I knew him at school," Randall said.
"He's not here anymore. And we lived in Virginia, so ya wouldn't know him," Rosie said, frowning as she thought about her brother. She missed him a lot. Talking to Randall reminded her of Fraser. If he were still alive, he'd be around Randall's age by then.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Randall said. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Randall eyed the shirt Rosie was wearing. "You like crocodiles?"
"Yeah. I like dinosaurs most, though."
"Oh, I like dinosaurs too! Yeah. What's- what's your favorite dinosaur?"
"I like velociraptors the best. I've got a real cool toy one in my backpack, and some others," Rosie said, almost smiling.
"Well, hey, if- if you get me out, you can show me. And- and- and I can- I can see the other dinosaurs too. Yeah," Randall said, scooting himself forward a bit.
Rosie considered it for a moment, thinking about what would happen if she helped Randall get out. She thought that he probably wouldn't hurt anyone. He seemed harmless enough. But she also knew that if she did, she'd be in a lot of trouble. Everyone would be mad at her. She did not want anyone to be mad at her.
"I can't. I'll get in trouble," Rosie sighed, slouching her shoulders.
"Well, maybe- maybe you can come with me. We can go back and find my group. There are other kids there. You'll- you'll like it!"
Shaking her head, Rosie stood back up on her feet. "I don't wanna leave. But you can stay here, maybe. I can ask."
"Ask those- those guys? I don't think they like me very much. Is- is one of them your dad? Maybe you can convince them. Yeah, yeah, you can try and convince them, right?" Randall tried.
Rosie didn't want to talk about her dad, so she didn't bother addressing his question about the men of the group. "I can try," she said.
"Yeah, because- because I'm your friend now, right?" Randall said, smiling and nodding his head.
"Um," Rosie said, thinking about it. She really wanted a friend, so why not? "Yeah. But I gotta go now or I'll get in trouble."
"Ok, ok. Thank you, Rosie. Bye," Randall said energetically as Rosie climbed back up the ladder and left the shed.
•
The next day, when Rosie went to visit Randall, he was gone. Rick and Shane had taken him out to the school and they were gonna leave him there for dead. She waited all day for them to come back so that she could beg Rick to bring Randall back, but when they did finally come back, much to Rosie's relief, Randall was still with them. Shane and Rick were both bloody, though. Rosie had no idea what went on that day, but whatever it was, she was glad for it because it meant that her new friend was still there.
Rosie wanted to go and ask Randall about what went down, but after they came back, the shed always had someone on guard, making sure Randall didn't escape. That made it much harder for Rosie to try and sneak in to see him. So she started paying attention to who was on guard, because it was much easier to sneak in if Glenn was on guard than if Shane was on guard.
The next morning, Rosie woke up and immediately got up to go and see who was on guard. Much to her surprise, no one was outside of the shed. But as she got closer, she could hear that Randall was talking to someone. She didn't want to get caught trying to talk to Randall, so she hurried off towards the campsite, pretending that she was never there at all.
•
In the shed, Daryl paced back and forth in front of a bloodied Randall. He threw a punch across his already beaten face, knocking him down to the ground. And then another. And then another.
"I told you," Randall said, leaning his head down on the ground.
"You told me shit!" Daryl grunted. He quickly stepped forward and lifted Randall up by the collar of his shirt before slamming him back up against the wall in a sitting position.
"I barely knew those guys! I met 'em on the road," Randall claimed, his voice high and shaky.
"How many in your group?" Daryl questioned.
Randall didn't say anything, a pained expression on his battered face. His eyes widened when Daryl reached for the knife on his belt, slipping it out of the sheath. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Come on, man!" Randall begged, eyeing the knife with fear.
Daryl lifted his arm and slammed the knife down into the ground right next to Randall's injured leg, making him jump. "How many?!" Daryl demanded.
"Uh, 30. 30! 30 guys," Randall admitted.
"Where?"
"Uh," Randall mumbled, trying to decide whether or not to answer. Daryl ripped the bandage off of his leg, making him cry out in pain. "I don't know, I swear! We were never anyplace more than a night!"
Daryl poked the tip of his knife into Randall's injured leg. "Scouting? Planning on stayin' local?"
"I- I- I don't know! They- they left me behind!" Randall insisted.
"You ever pick off a scab?"
"Come on, man! I'm tryin' to cooperate!"
"Start real slow at first. Sooner or later, you just gotta rip it off!"
Randall let out a conflicted groan. "Ok! Ok," he said, giving in and nodding his head. "They- they have weapons. Heavy stuff, automatics. But- but I didn't do anything!"
"Your boys shot at my boys, tried to take this farm. You just went along for the ride? You're tryin' to tell me you're innocent?!" Daryl asked.
"Yes!" Randall shouted, giving a firm nod. He sighed, trying to calm himself down, but he got afraid all over again every time he glanced down and saw Daryl's knife just centimeters away from his injured leg. "These- these people took me in. Not just guys, a- a- a whole group of 'em. Men and women, uh, kids too- just like you people!" Daryl stood up, putting his knife back into his sheath now that Randall was fully cooperating. "Thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know?"
"But... we go out, scavenge. Just the men," Randall said, catching his breath. He looked down at the ground with what looked like shame as Daryl started to pace impatiently. "One night we- we found this little campsite. A man and his two daughters- teenagers, y'know? Real young. Real cute. They were blonde, like- like- like Rosie."
Everything went silent for a moment as Randall looked back up. Daryl stopped his pacing and turned to look at the boy, anger flooding every part of him, from his head to his heels, as he processed Randall's words.
Randall took deep breaths, looking around with some sort of regret. "Their daddy had to watch while these guys- they..." he trailed off, staring at his feet, before looking back up at Daryl. "And they didn't even kill him afterwards! They just- they just made him watch as his daughters... they just- just- just left him there. No, but- but- but I didn't touch those girls. No, I swear I didn't tou-"
Daryl sent a hard kick to Randall's side, knocking him over again.
"Please. You gotta believe me, man! I'm not like that. I ain't like that," Randall cried. Daryl stared at him, his breathing heavy. "Please. Please, you gotta believe me."
Another kick. And then a punch. Daryl sat Randall back up against the wall, crouching down in front of him. "She come in here?!" he asked, gripping onto the collar of the boy's shirt. Randall just stared at him, unsure of what to say. Daryl pulled out his knife again, holding the tip of it just centimeters away from Randall's eye. "What'd you say to her?!" he shouted, pulling Randall even closer to the knife.
"The- the- the girl? Rosie? She- she came in here the other day! But I didn't say nothin'! I didn't! I- I- I swear!" Randall said quickly. Daryl threw Randall back against the wall and stood up, leaving him beaten and battered in the darkness of the shed.
Daryl walked quickly towards the campsite, not bothering to answer any of the questions Rick asked as he walked past him. He found Rosie sitting in front of the fire, eating scrambled eggs. She looked up at his angry expression, her eyes widening when she realized that his anger was directed towards her.
Rosie's heart rate sped up as Daryl grabbed her upper arm, pulling her up and onto her feet. He ignored everyone's questions as he started pulling her away. Rosie wasn't sure what she had done wrong yet, but that didn't change the fact that she was completely terrified.
When they got, maybe, twenty feet away, Daryl released her arm, sort of throwing it away from himself roughly. Rosie took a few steps back, cowering in fear.
"You went in there?! You went and talked to that boy?!" he shouted, gesturing wildly towards the shed. It was then that Rosie realized Randall must have told Daryl that she talked to him. Her breathing quickened. "You know how fuckin' stupid that is?! Do ya know what the hell he could've done to ya?!"
"I- I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Rosie shrieked, taking another step backwards. Daryl grabbed onto her shoulder, keeping her from moving further away from him.
"Sorry don't cut it! What the hell's goin' through yer head?! Ya tryin' ta get yourself killed?!" Daryl yelled at her.
Rosie felt tears start to prick at her eyes. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. They get more mad when you cry. Don't say anything. Be quiet. Just take it. Get it over with.
"Ya gonna fuckin' answer me or are ya just gonna stand there like a dumbass?!"
"I'm sorry!" Rosie shouted, her voice high and shaky. "He- he was nice!"
"Nice?! He was fuckin' nice?! He could've-"
"Daryl! Calm down!" Rick shouted, taking hold of Daryl's shoulder and pushing him backwards a little.
Letting out a frustrated huff of air, Daryl pushed Rick's arm away. He glared at the man, shaking his head slightly. "You didn't hear what that asshole said, man," he grumbled.
"That doesn't give you reason to blow up on Rosie," Rick said calmly.
"She went in there, talked to 'im. Told him her name, who knows what else," Daryl said. He lowered his voice a little. "You didn't hear what he said, Rick."
Rick looked between Daryl and Rosie, and sighed. He turned to Rosie and pointed towards the picnic table. "Sit down. We'll talk about it," he said, and Rosie quickly obeyed, hurrying away from Daryl. Rick turned back to Daryl. "Now what did you find out?"
"Boy there's got a gang, thirty men. They got heavy artillery and they ain't lookin' to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they're gonna," Daryl stopped, glancing past Rick to look at Rosie. She had her head down, her blonde hair falling over her face. "They're gonna wish they were," he finished.
"What did you do?" Carol asked, eyeing Daryl's bloodied knuckles.
"Had a little chat," he said.
"No one goes near this guy," Rick said sternly. He turned and pointed a finger in Rosie's face. "Especially you."
"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asked.
"We have no choice. He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat."
"You're gonna kill him?" Rosie asked before she could even take a moment to think about it.
"It's settled. I'll do it today," Rick said. Rosie stood up off of her seat, stepping in front of Rick.
"You can't kill him!" she said, her voice high. "He's my friend!"
"Sit your ass down, girl," Daryl spat, grabbing Rosie's shoulder once again and forcing her back down onto the bench.
Rick stood in front of her, his hands on his hips and serious look on his face. "He is not your friend, Rosie. He is dangerous and he could have hurt you."
"He is my friend. He told me. He's my friend," Rosie insisted.
Daryl wanted scream at her for going to see Randall and he wanted to lock her up to make sure she couldn't do it again. But he didn't. Instead, he took a few steps back, trying to stop himself from yelling at her, and let Rick do the rest.
"He is not your friend. People like him say those things to make you feel bad for them, so you'll help them. Did he ask you to let him out?" Rick asked, raising his eyebrows.
Rosie looked down at her shoes, but didn't answer the question. "He just wants to go home," she mumbled.
"If he goes home, he'll tell the other men at his camp about this farm, and they'll come here and hurt us. They'll hurt you," Rick told her.
"They won't hurt me. He said they're nice. He said I could go with him if I want," Rosie replied, looking back up at Rick. Rick's jaw clenched and he glanced back at the shed for a moment, thinking.
Upon hearing Rosie's words, Daryl went off, heading back towards the shed.
Rick knelt down in front of Rosie. "Rosie, I need you to understand this. Carl is your friend, Daryl is your friend, I am your friend- that man is not. Now, I need to be able to trust that you will not go near him again because I care about you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Can I trust you to do that?"
Rosie thought about it for a moment, staring at Rick. She felt conflicted and extremely frustrated. Randall was nice to her. She was going to bring her dinosaurs to show him. She thought he was her friend. Did he really just want to hurt her the whole time?
But at the same time, she knew Rick and everyone else way longer than she knew Randall. And Rick even said that he cares about her. Just the thought of that sounded unreal to her, and it made her want to trust Rick.
What did Randall tell Daryl that made him think he wants to hurt me?
Does Randall really want to hurt me?
How would he hurt me?
I don't understand.
"Ok," Rosie sighed, nodding her head.
Rick put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Thank you," he said before standing back up to his full height.
I still don't understand, though.