The arguing started quite quickly, seeing as everybody was already high-strung to begin with. It started off with Daryl wanting to 'put a pick axe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it', or something along those lines. Naturally everyone was against it. Then it escalated into questioning people's morality.
At this point, Rick comes up with an idea. "What if we can get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure." Who would he have heard this from? It's not like he can walk down the street and pick it up in a conversation with a friendly neighbour.
"I heard that too." Shane agrees. I cock an eyebrow in surprise. It's not often that people agree with one another in this group. "Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."
I shuffle my feet nervously as the small group converses. I can hear them quite well from the cover of the trees. Jim is seated at the end of the caravan in the shade, looking far less than healthy. It's cooler in the shade. The trees hide me from the harsh summer sun, though dapples of yellow light stream down in thin lines.
"What if the CDC is still up and running?"
"Man, that is a stretch right there."
"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd probably protect the CDC at all cost, wouldn't they?" He begins to sound a little desperate. He shifts the weight from one foot to the other and watches the others for answers.
Shane sighs and and shakes his head lightly. "Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right?" I can almost hear the mocking laugh in his voice at this point. "I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base: Fort Benning."
I have heard of Fort Benning. It's one of the largest military bases in North America, but they don't seem to have reinforced walls. It's a sprawling base with forests and ovals, though only protected with a few layers of mesh fencing and barbed wire. I doubt in serious attack they would be able to hold their own for very long.
"That's a hundred miles in the opposite direction!" Lori exclaims.
"That's right, but it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me," he turns his hand vertically and makes it pass his ear to the space in front of him to emphasise his words. "If that place is still operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."
"The military were on the front line of things. They got overrun, we've all seen that. The CDC is our best choice and Jim's only chance." Both Rick and Shane seem so sure of their ideas, yet neither appeal to me. I realise that we can no longer stay here, seeing as last night's attack claimed half the camp and we can afford to lose any more, and there are bound to be more.
At Fort Benning, their main priority is to protect themselves and protect what is left of the government. Civilians will most certainly not be one of their concerns. Although we have survived this long, we are basically useless to the army. We'd only be more mouths to feed. And who's to say they won't simply shoot us the minute we come into view?
The CDC can't be much better. It means going through Nortown. I shudder thinking about my old home. The chaos there was unlike anything I have ever seen. People running screaming, children being eaten, grandparents being slaughtered in the street. There was so much blood. The army couldn't tell who was infected and who wasn't, so they exterminated everything in the town. Soon I was the only one left; completely alone in my own little hell. The Walkers who doomed Nortown came from further south, near the CDC, so I doubt we'd have much luck getting there.
Lost in my thoughts, I don't realise the figure sneaking up behind me. My indigo eyes trail the dirty sticks on the forest floor and the tiny ants crawling listlessly along their surfaces. A thin, bony hand clasps me on my shoulder. I turn, wide eyed, a scream lodged in my throat and-
"What are you doing back here?" Carol asks gently. My chest heaves and I slam into the tree I had been hiding behind. Carol looks almost as startled as I am, but says nothing. Blinking a few times, I manage to calm myself.
"Nothin'." I mutter, pulling the sides of my shirt tightly. I turn my back to her and walking along the hairline of the forest. Behind me, I can hear her quiet footsteps following me. Leaves, sticks and dirt shift beneath her feet, making an obnoxious amount of noise.
"Tessa, were you eavesdropping?" She asks once we reach the edge of camp.
"I a'ready told yeh I ain' doin' anything." I glare.
Carol tilts her head slightly and manages a tiny, tight-lipped smile. Her clear blue eyes hold no malice or dishonesty, but her body is rigid and taut. She lost her husband last night, didn't she? I hold my steady glare.
"You seem different, are you okay?" Resisting the urge to storm off, I say nothing. This woman is starting to get under my skin. She seems too nice. Too nice for this place, this world, this apocalypse. I doubt such a nice attitude will get her far anymore, although it'll get her further than a rude one.
"Jus' fine." Turning, I face the camp and walk away, leaving her behind. What's with everyone asking if I'm okay? While everyone wears grief-stricken and lost expressions, they simply pass by each other wordlessly. The camp is quiet aside from the crackling fire and the sound of thrown together weapons piercing bone and flesh.
Why are there no crows? No scavenger birds? Maybe they know, like we have learnt, not to approach a Walker kill. They themselves would become dinner. Plus Walker flesh musn't taste very nice.
The rest of the day is spent digging graves and burying people. Andrea put a bullet in Amy's head when she finally turned. I don't bother going to the funerals. I don't want to. Nobody makes me. I stay in the tent, until I remember Jim. While everyone's mourning the dead, he's still in the RV. He could turn at any moment.
I jump up from the tent floor and walk quickly to the RV. It smells surprisingly clean, aside from the dingy metallic scent of blood. You get accustomed to it after a few weeks, but in a such a sterile environment (compared to the rest of the world at least) it seems unnatural. I can hear Jim groan. Already it sounds like a weak Walker, but a Walker nonetheless. I put a hand on my holster and the other on my stomach. It's beginning to smart.
"Jim?" I ask into the air, approaching slowly. Maybe he already has turned.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no." His soft, delirious voice comes. I ease a little and walk down the hall of the RV. Jim's lying propped against a wall, sweat dripping down his face and square patch over his bite wound. He doesn't look at me immediately. "Not this, please." I grab the towel that's on the table beside him and dip it in the water left behind by Jacqui. Hopefully this'll stop his deliriousness, it's starting to make me uneasy. I place it neatly on his forehead. "No, no, no. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no."
I gingerly pat his arm, which is also dripping with sweat. He's burning up at an alarming rate. It must be the fever that kills by simply frying the brain, rather than just infecting it. "Quiet, Jim." I say not unkindly. "Yeh in the RV, r'member? There's ain't nothin' here."
"No, no, no-"
"Nothin' 'ere..." I mutter, patting his arm awkwardly. I've spoken to Jim maybe two or three times, none of which were deeply personal, or even casual talks. Dipping the towel back in the water to cool it again, I notice the tiny drop of blood sitting motionlessly on his chin. I ignore it, wring out the towel and place it back on his forehead.
This is when Carol enters. I hold eye contact with her, but move to the opposite bed. Let her look after him. She cares enough. I pull my legs up to my chest and hug them tightly. My stomach is starting to burn with pain. It doesn't start hurting until I begin to relax, or as much as is possible.
She looks at me then to Jim. "Thank you for looking after Jim." I grunt in reply. Carol's voice is quite small. "Why didn't you come up to the quarry with us?"
I shrug my shoulders. I'm sick of all this. People can't learn to adapt to the new world. This is what is is now: an ugly, blood-stained shit hole that leaves no room for mercy. Feeling sorrow and grief is useless. Everybody will die soon. I know that. I've already accepted it. Lori will die. Carl will die. Sophia, Rick, Dale, Glenn. Daryl will die too. Eventually I'll be dead as well.
Glaring at nothing, my breathing starts to become shallower. Rick and Lori enter, joining Carol, Jim and me. The RV begins to feel a little crowded. It's not a big vehicle, so people much larger than me makes it feel claustrophobic.
"His fever is worse." Carol says.
"You need anything?" The question is aimed at Jim.
"Uh... water. Could use some water." He replies to Lori. The small bowl with water is empty, and Lori's eyes trail to the damp towel on his forehead.
"I'll get some."
I cannot hear Jim's reply. He's so weak now. His voice doesn't carry. The smell of his blood and sweat is rife in the RV, but also that twinge of death that makes your nose wrinkle and toes curl up. It sends a shiver up somebody's spine if they're unused to it.
"Carol, you help me?" The woman nods and stands, moving away from Jim. Lori then looks to me, beckoning me with a slender hand. "You too, Tess." I know she just wants to give Rick and Jim a moment alone. I'm not sure what they could talk about, seeing as Jim is highly delirious. Begrudgingly, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand, an arm still resting on my bruised stomach. The holster beats against my leg as I walk around Lori and Carol and leave the RV.
I can tell soon we will be leaving. The fires are being disassembled, tents pulled down and things packed away. Even if a formal decision hasn't been made, people want to move anyway. My chest feels hollow. There's no pressure on my heart like the used to be, no paranoia that a Walker could be around every corner or anxiety over my own life. It's liberating, but also scary. My fear, anxiety and paranoia were what kept me vigilant and ultimately alive for the last couple of weeks. I'm sure I won't be able to survive as efficiently anymore, but at least I won't spent what little time is left of my life in a mental torture.