After awkwardly waiting for the rest of the group to say their farewells to Jim, Glenn quickly introduced me to everyone, giving me a list of names I was sure I wouldn't remember.
Dale, Lori, T-Dog, Carol, Carl, Sophia, Andrea, Jacqui...
"Daryl," Rick called out to someone behind me. I turned to find a lone man leaning against a blue and white pickup truck with a motorbike secured in the back. He nodded his head up at Rick to signal that he heard.
"Charlotte's ridin' with you," Rick said to him.
Daryl crossed his bare arms across his sleeveless shirt and frowned at me.
"Fine," he grumbled and turned to walk to the driver's side of his truck, revealing a crossbow strapped across his back.
I haven't seen one of those before.
I knew that no one was in a celebratory mood after having to say goodbye to one of their friends, so I wasn't surprised that I was met with a less than warm welcome. A few of the women offered me a tight smile before everyone piled into their designated vehicles. They didn't have to like me or be my friend; they just had to try not to get me killed.
Rick handed me my backpack and knife. I gave him a tiny smile as he patted me on the shoulder before joining a dark haired woman and a young boy that Glenn introduced as Carl. The woman shot me a not-so-subtle glare before following Rick.
"He's not as scary as he looks," Glenn said to me, referring to the man who was now sitting in the driver's seat of his car, before jogging off to his own vehicle. Now that I was alone, I started to feel more nervous than I had when there was a group of people staring at me like I just landed from the moon.
"I ain't got all day sunshine!"
I whipped around to see Daryl poking his head out of his window, glaring straight at me.
"Oh my god," I whispered under my breath before jogging off to the pickup truck.
I quickly but cautiously opened the passenger side door and stepped inside. The car smelled like cigarettes and leather.
Daryl didn't bother to look at me as I situated myself and we sat in silence as we waited for the convoy ahead of us to get moving. His fingers scratched at the scruff covering his chin and he let out a sharp sigh. His right hand clutched the steering wheel possessively, so much that his knuckles began to turn white. I couldn't tell if I was the one making him uncomfortable or if he was naturally uptight.
"Thanks for letting me ride with you," I said to him.
"Wasn't my choice," he said in a condescending manner.
I turned my head to look out the window before he could send another glare my way.
The beige and white motor home at the front of the convoy moved forward, followed by the rest of the group and finally us. It felt strange to be in a car again. Feeling myself being pressed back into the leather car seat made everything seem normal. The moment disappeared as soon as it came while we passed Jim's frail figure as the truck moved along. We drove in a tense silence for what seemed like forever until I felt my eyes finally start to droop.
I drifted off a couple of times. I saw different faces, different shapes. The eloquently drawn dandelion in the botanist's notebook, the pear slices that I shared with him over breakfast one morning. Then, my brother, with a look that would linger in my mind forever plastered across his face as he stood in front of a campfire, slowly turning to look at me. There were hordes behind him, hordes of those things.
Sometimes I didn't know what to call them anymore, everyone seemed to have a different name for them: Roamers, Biters, Dead Ones, Skin Eaters, Ghosts. In the end, they were all the same.
✯✯✯
Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his seat for about the hundredth time. He was annoyed with Rick for dumping the girl on him as if he were a damn babysitter.
She had nodded off to sleep again, resting her head against the window. Daryl shook his head.
Bet she expects to be driven around, he thought to himself.
To him, she was just another mouth to feed, another person he would have to bust his ass for while she hid in the corner with the other women in the face of danger: a waste of his time. He figured that if she was telling the truth about traveling alone for the past couple of days, she only made it by pure luck.
She reminded him of Amy, Andrea's little sister, with the same innocent face. She was shorter though, with dark messy hair sticking out of her ponytail.
He didn't want to be responsible for another person's life. He was already struggling to feel like he was a part of the group now that his brother was gone. Without Merle, Daryl didn't know who he was. Before everything went to shit, he spent his days following his big brother around, doing whatever he said they were gonna do.
Daryl felt like he should've been out looking for his brother instead of going on a wild goose chase to the CDC with Officer Friendly. He imagined Merle scolding him for sticking with Rick, the man who left him on a rooftop and forced him to cut off his own hand. But, as much as Daryl wanted to find his brother, he knew it was a long shot. Georgia was a big place and by now, his brother could be anywhere.
For now, his best bet was to stick with a group, whether he liked it or not.
✯✯✯
"We're stopping."
I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the cars ahead of us parked.
"What's going on?" I peered out my window. We had stopped along the highway, now surrounded by flat, desolate fields instead of a forest.
"Take a piss if ya need to, while ya still got the chance," Daryl answered sharply.
"So, am I supposed to stay with you or something?" I asked cautiously. It seemed like everything I did pissed Daryl off. He looked at me, a hint of annoyance already on his face.
"I ain't your damn babysitter," he shot back.
Without another word, Daryl grabbed his crossbow from the backseat and hopped out of the truck, not bothering to see if I followed. I quickly snatched up my backpack before stepping out of the truck into the hot sun. This was my chance to hitch a ride with someone else.
I wandered over to the RV where Rick, Shane, and a man named Dale stood gathered around the front of the motor home. A trail of steam spewed out of a silver grate covering what I assumed was the engine.
"Hey, Dale," I called out. His head jerked away from the problem before him and he peered at me from under his fishing hat.
"You got any more room in this thing?" I gestured towards the open screen door.
"Yeah, of course! You're more than welcome," he grinned.
"Things aren't working out with Daryl?" Rick eyed me quizzically from next to Dale.
"Oh, uhm, it's a small truck," I lied. "I'm claustrophobic."
Rick nodded with an amused glint in his eyes while Shane gazed at me with an interested look. I cleared my throat and went up the steps of the RV. The interior felt foreign to me, with faded couch cushions and stained carpet. The motorhome my dad would take me camping in had a modern setup with flat screen TVs connected high up on the walls and an air conditioning better than the one in his actual car.
Jacqui and Glenn sat at the collapsable dining table shuffling through a stack of playing cards. My entrance caught Glenn's eye and he broke into a cheesy grin.
"Hey, Charlotte. I'm teaching Jacqui how to play Go-Fish," he explained.
"Mhmm," Jacqui mused across the table, looking slightly annoyed with him.
"Uh, I'm gonna ride with you guys the rest of the way," I said to them.
"Cool. Maybe once Jacqui gets the hang of it, I can teach you too," Glenn offered, and I couldn't help but let a tiny smile slip out.
"Well, I don't know how long it'll hold, but it'll have to do for now," I heard Dale say from somewhere outside of the RV with uncertainty. I moved out of the doorway just as he stepped up into the house on wheels, closing the door behind him.
"Alrighty, then. Let's get moving," he addressed the three of us.
Glenn let me ride shotgun, as he insisted on further teaching Jacqui about the highs and lows of Go-Fish, which was totally fine with me. After a deep rumbling noise from somewhere inside the motorhome and a curse from Dale, the engine came to life and we were soon back on the road.
I could feel myself finally relax. There was no awkward tension in the air like the one that lingered between Daryl and I in the truck. I leaned my head back against the headrest and let my breath slowly come and go.
"So, Charlotte," Dale began, "Where are you from?"
"Uh, I'm originally from Louisiana," I used my fingers to pick at my bottom lip nervously.
"Really?!" he asked dumbfoundedly. "Which part?"
"New Orleans." I could feel myself start to grow uncomfortable, though I knew he was just trying to make conversation.
"Well, how'd you end up in Georgia?" He chuckled.
The truth almost tumbled out of my mouth. I caught myself, bewildered that I had gotten so comfortable with a complete stranger.
"Visiting a friend," I lied, again.
Dale seemed satisfied with my answer and we drove in silence for the rest of the trip.
✯✯✯
(𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 5/2/20)