Eventually the light of the sun began to brighten our surroundings, and everything became much easier to see. This is another one of those trade off things I can’t quite decide on. It’s good but also bad. The more it lights up, the easier I can see, but we’re also easier to see.

I came this close to slicing my finger open while carving and jolted and ‘snap’

“.........”

I stared blankly at the two halves of my hard work and sighed deeply, and dropped the twigs on the ground. I chuckled and picked them back up to toss into the fire. It wasn’t that nice of a carving anyway.

My cheeks puffed as I blew air out of my mouth and looked around, running my hands over my head and tossed my hair over my shoulders before I put out the fire, kicking dirt over it with my boots. Although it was never more than warm sticks, a soft sizzle still filled the air as the dirt buried it and the long waiting dragged on once again.

A few twigs snapped here and there while I struggled to fight off boredom, but it never turned out to be anything more dangerous than a woodpecker Woodpeckers forage for insect prey on the trunks and branches of trees, and often communicate by drumming with their beak, producing a reverbatory sound that can beard at some distance. Most species live in forests or woodland habitats.. Some of these creatures are very lucky that it’s me keeping watch and not Daryl, or they wouldn’t be furry, they’d be curry. Huh… I wonder if squirrel curry would make them taste better. Is squirrel curry even possible? Come to think of it… I don’t know anyone who knows how to make curry, especially not now. Unless someone back at camp is keeping tasty little secrets. Seriously though, out of everyone among us - including the handful of mothers we’ve got back at camp - I can’t believe there’s no one with culinary skill. Carol probably comes closest, but maybe it’s just cause she’s a good mom. Not that I would know what the qualifications for a good mother are.

“Ugmm”

My knives raised in a heartbeat but were sliding back into my sheath a second later. ‘He’s up sooner than I expected.’ I watched Daryl shift and slowly come to consciousness. It’s only been a few hours at most. Either that or I’ve been completely zoning out, which isn’t good no matter how you look at it, but I doubt that because I did notice all the small insignificant noises that could have been the end of our lives. But alas here we are, about to begin our hunt for the elusive immortal deer once again. Unfortunately, this time it’s on an empty stomach.

 

We've been tracking this deer for a good three hours into the daylight. I cannot for the life of me figure out how it’s still going. Daryl shot it like three times and—

“Ahhhh!”

Simultaneously Daryl & I looked at each other and then we both broke into a run.

It took a few minutes, but as we got closer to the scream we slowed to a cautious but nimble step so we won’t be noticed, just in case, and came around a mound of rock. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice Daryl stop short until I walked into his back, my nose slamming into the back of his cinderblock of a skull.

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What the Hell are you made of, rocks!?’

Grabbing my now throbbing nose, my cold fingers somewhat soothed the ache but nowhere near how much I would’ve liked. Begrudgingly, I leaned around him to find out why my face had to suffer. I’m not sure what I was expecting to see,... but it wasn’t this.

I stared at most of the men from our own group, all of which looked quite startled (Another look I'm accustomed to, but not usually when I’m accompanied by another person, least of all a Dixon), standing in a half circle in this small break between the trees for seemingly no apparent reason.

“Son of a bitch. That's my deer.” Daryl shouted, getting over the odd scene much faster than I did and stomped closer, clearing my line of sight to see the cause of his sudden mood swing.

An exhausted sigh escaped my lips as I rubbed my eyes with my forefinger and thumb, incredulously.

‘Damnit. I was looking forward to not having to eat squirrel.’

I followed Daryl over to the remains of what was supposed to be the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow, huffing strong enough to blow my hair out of my face, before I caught sight of someone I don’t recognize.

I stared at him curiously for a moment. He's got the same sort of vibe as Shane. Almost the same look about him too. The way he carries himself, how he’s looking around, even the way he stands is similar, but he wasn’t here yesterday.

‘Did I miss something?’

I didn't realize Daryl had been ranting until he started kicking the corpse of a decapitated walker, that I had failed to notice in light of this stranger’s sudden appearance, on the other side of the deer. At least I hope that’s a walker. If not, we’re in deeper shit than I thought.

Seriously, we’re gone for what? One day and they go off and get into the worst sort of trouble they can, without dying? What sort of logic is this? Who’s driving this boat!?

“Calm down son, that's not helping.”

Dale attempted to calm the enraged hunter. But frankly, I’m pretty pissed too. I came this close to not having to hold my breath while I swallow my dinner whole.

“What do you know about it old man?”

‘Here we go…’ I resisted the incredible urge to sigh and shake my head, swallowing the feeling down and burying it in my silent heart.

“Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to ‘On Golden Pond’”

I stopped listening after that. I don’t know what Daryl has against Dale’s RV but I’m more interested in the walker head on the ground. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t heard a Dixon go off on someone before, chewing them out like dog’s chew shoes. Honestly, I’m surprised Merle isn’t joining in.

‘Where is Merle? I don’t see him. There’s no way he’d miss out on a walker in camp. His grating voice and equally unsettling cackle is hard to miss.’

Crouching down beside the head, I searched for the killing blow, but after a minute of looking around it, I couldn't find anything. I reached my hand out and poked it with a finger and it didn’t move, so they must’ve killed it. Internal brain hemorrhage? I don’t know if walker’s are susceptible to that though. They move but does the blood still circulate? I poked it in the forehead again and the eyelids opened.

Startled, I fell backwards onto my ass and accidentally kicked it away with my boot, making it spin as it rolled in the dirt. It didn’t go far, but it was enough to make several others jump back in fright.

“Come on, people. What the Hell?”

Daryl raised his crossbow and put a bolt through its eye socket without hesitation but careful practiced aim. Stepping over the body and putting his shoe against it’s temple, he pulled the bolt out with a gross ‘slick’ the rod covered in dark red almost black goo. For a second I expected him to wipe the blood off on his pants, but I guess not even a hunter, who will skin any kill with his bare hands, will get that nasty congealed slime on him.

“It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin?”

He offered me his hand and I took him up on it, getting to my feet. I nodded gratefully, brushing the dirt off my ass.

“Next time don't touch it.” Daryl scolded firmly but absent of any real anger.

I nodded, glancing at the body with a little morbid curiosity. I still don’t get why I’m the only one who’s curious about ‘em. It’s not a moral compass thing either, there are plenty of people in this group whose “compass” has a magnet stuck to the bottom.Because compasses use the earth's magnetic poles to determine direction, putting a magnet too close to one causes the needle to spin or stick, rendering it useless. Assuming they haven’t lost the damn thing already.

Everyone began to leave, following Daryl, and I too turned, falling into step next to the new face. He looked at me, and I stared back at him.

“Rick”, he held his hand out.

I shook his hand with a polite but friendly smile. Something about this guy just screams, “I know what to do” if that makes sense. Even though I’ve never met him before. He kinda reminds me of Glenn in that regard.

“That's Evelyn, but she prefers Eve.” Dale chimed in from behind us. “She doesn't say much, but maybe you'll get to hear her voice someday.”

A quick amused smile brushed across my face and I moved to catch up with Shane and Daryl near the front. I could use some water, I’m parched and if we’ve got something that isn’t squirrel that would be fantastic too.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here. Got us some squirrel. Let's stew 'em up.” Daryl called out through the open space near the quarry’s cliff edge where the bulk of camp is set up.

I almost gagged at the mention of the furry little creatures. At least in stew they don’t taste completely terrible, so long as the pieces aren’t too big and you don’t chew for too long.

“Hey Daryl. Why don't you slow up a bit…” Shane called after him. “I need to talk to you.”

‘Ahhh, shit spackle.’ I tried not to groan. We just got back, and we were only gone for one day but there was a stranger, a walker, the fruits of our labor munched on and useless, now what?

I resisted the urge to rub my forehead in mounting frustration. ‘We cannot catch a break. Would it have killed you to wait ‘til I’ve eaten something? I feel like a dog owner coming back from work to find my pets have left me some “gifts” all over the house.’

“About what?” Daryl glanced at me as if I’d know what Shane’s talking about.

“About Merle.” Shane squared off his posture.

‘Ugh, of course… I thought it was fishy that he wasn’t around. What’s he done now?’

“There was a problem in Atlanta.”

My heart dropped into my stomach, all desire for food eradicated to the furthest reaches of my mind and my complaints silenced.

Daryl stiffened and glanced around and shifted, a growing worry invading his tense posture. “He dead?”

“We’re not sure.” Shane glanced to the side.

“Either he is or he ain't.” Daryl spat, impatient.

“No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it.” Rick walked past me.

“Who're you?” Daryl spoke spitefully, this being the first time he’s acknowledged the newcomers presence aside from just glancing at him earlier.

“Rick Grimes.” Rick stopped several feet in front of him.

Grimes? As in Lori and Carl Grimes?

“Rick Grimes… You got something you wanna tell me?” Daryl’s anger flared. He’s got a short fuse as is. This isn’t gonna end well.

My stomach gurgled and for a moment, I had the urge to growl back. In most any other situation, I probably would have but I’d rather not draw attention to myself right at this moment.

I walked over to Glenn and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, relaxing when he saw me. He pulled the small bag from his pocket like a drug dealer and my lip quirked up for half a second as I took it from him, moisture already gathering in my mouth.

I opened the bag of cookies I asked Glenn for, looking at them.

‘Yes! they're still good.’

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him to a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal… He's still there.” Rick informed rather bluntly.

‘Wait…what? …………… They left Merle in the city? The walker crawling city?’

Daryl paced quickly back and forth, having just as much trouble believing this as I am, but he looks like he’s about to flip his lid.

“Let me process this.” he smacked his lips. “You sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof… and you left him there!?” Daryl's rage escalated right alongside his voice.

“Yeah…” Rick drew out his response, looking down guiltily.

I looked away for half a second, my appetite fluctuating wildly between famish and completely gone. When I looked back up, I narrowly dodged the flying bunch of squirrels comin’ at me, almost pushing Glenn as I ducked and watched them fly past me like there’s still some life in them.

Shane knocked Daryl to the ground with a body slam, and it only gave the hunter the opportunity to pull his knife.

Daryl went for Rick, and Shane wasted no time in grabbing him. Rick and Shane moved like they were a team, without saying anything. Almost as if they’ve done this before.

What the Hell happened yesterday?

I nudged Glenn with my elbow and pointed to them with a questioning look. He nodded, “Rick and Shane are old friends. They were partners on the force before.”

I blinked for several seconds, just the sheer odds of that leaving me gobsmacked before nodding in understanding. ‘Well that makes this make more sense.’

“You best let me go!” Daryl yelled locked in a chokehold by ex-officer Shane.

“Nah, I think it’s better if I don’t.” Shane replied sarcastically, almost like he failed to comprehend how serious this is. They left someone behind, and I don’t care how disagreeable Merle is, that’s no excuse. They best have a damn good explanation for this.

Shane got him to the ground in a choke hold, and I stopped paying attention against my will, my stomach was demanding nutrition on threat of digesting my liver. So I fed it another cookie to shut it up and tuned back in as Shane actually let him go.

Rick stepped up. “What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

‘Isn’t that the understatement of the year.’ I wanted to roll my eyes.

“It wasn't Rick's fault.” T-Dog spoke up from the sidelines all of a sudden, looking guilty but owning up to what happened. “I had the key… I dropped it.”

“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl spat, still fuming but he looks too worn out to really fight anymore. I don’t blame him, neither of us have eaten or drunk anything since yesterday, and this isn’t just anger, a mix of dread and so many other things blended together on his face but his expression changed minutely at best, almost like he locked it down to expressing one emotion only: anger.

Why do I feel guilty? I wasn’t even on that run... Hell I only vaguely know what’s happened.

“Well I dropped it in a drain.” T-Dog replied.

‘So it was an accident.’ My posture relaxed a little. That’s much better than what I was afraid of. From the sound of it, they really fell in the mud this timeEve is using her own idiom to say they were really unlucky..

Daryl bitterly scoffed and dragged himself up out of the dirt back onto his feet, completely exhausted and overwhelmed.

He’s not overly close with Merle, even he isn’t exempt from his brother’s verbal assaults, but they’re still brothers.

“If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don’t.” Daryl threw a handful of dirt clinging to his hand at T-Dog’s feet.

“Well, maybe this will. Look I chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him. With a padlock.”

Dang. Not a lot of people could own up to something like this. Kudos, T-Dog.

Daryl rubbed his eyes, exacerbated in frustration. I knew he didn’t sleep long. He looks tired as Hell.

“To Hell with all y'all!” he yelled, running out of steam to argue and his next words came out exacerbated and deflated from exhaustion. “Just tell me where he is, sos I can go get ‘im.”

I never realized before how much energy it takes to have that Dixon attitude. Honestly, I’m not really sure if I should’ve gotten involved or not. I mean, Daryl is the closest thing I have to a friend in this group, besides Glenn. Glenn’s more like a kid-brother to me though, and everyone else gets really annoying, but now I’m sort of glad I waited to hear the whole story. I don’t wanna become the villain for someone else’s mistakes, unless I have to.

“He'll show you.” Everyone looked at Lori Grimes by the RV door, her eyes trained on Rick.

“Isn't that right?” she stared at Rick, expectantly, but the way she said that…. I could be mistaken but that sounded like some vehement sarcasm.

‘I’ve missed something again, haven’t I? Did they fight?’

Rick shifted but that look the tall brunette woman gave him, like a displeased house-wife, didn’t stop his next words. “I'm going back.”

I glanced at Lori and saw her face just warp, eyes shining with something that looks very much like loathing but not quite that hateful.

‘Yeah, I definitely missed something. What exactly is their relationship? They have the same last name and apparently know each other very well, are they related somehow? Brother and sister? Cousins?’ While I searched for answers, Daryl walked away without giving any indication of his own answer to the other ex-cop’s statement.

As he left everyone kinda shrunk back to what they were doing before, show over, and I stayed seated; Torn between going after him, and giving him space.

Eventually I settled on the latter, for now. I’ll track him down in a bit and keep an eye on him, if he doesn’t come back soon. I’m not a tracker but I can manage. He shouldn’t be too difficult to find when he’s steaming like a teapot.