"Ya alone?"
"I'd feel a lot better without a crossbow aimed at my forehead."
"Said 'r ya alone?"
"Yes"
"Shouldn't be"
"Why? Because i'm a woman?"
"Nah. Being alone gets ya killed"
"Listen, being in a group gets you killed, people die. People die you...
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"Madness, as you know, is a lot like gravity. All it takes is a little push." -The Joker
The second night in the woods, Daryl and I found an isolated lodge in the middle of nowhere. It was big enough for us to camp out in for a few days, and it gave us access to all the directions Daryl and I needed to look. However, both of us had to start the dreadful walk back home today, and we'd had no luck finding the asshole.
It felt like I'd been in the forest for a week when in reality it had only been four days. There were no walkers, no encounters of living either, and Daryl was just Daryl. He doesn't really say much. So keeping myself occupied was like learning the redneck language.
Difficult.
As I sat on the bitterly cold, rock-hard floor, I reached for my bag and dug through it to find the last can of baked beans. Looking at Daryl, who was twiddling his crossbow in his hands opposite from me. I fought with myself in my head for about thirty seconds.
"Do you want half?" I mumbled to Daryl.
He told me no with a slight shake of his head. I'm not sure what was wrong with him, but I hadn't seen him eat anything since yesterday morning, which was unfortunate for him because I made a pinky promise with another redneck.
"You need to eat something." I rose up and approached him.
He grabbed the can while looking up at me. Opened it quickly, then lifted the can to his lips and wafted half the contents down in a matter of seconds.
"I told you to eat it, not inhale it." Daryl gave a modest nod of thanks as I took the can from him, and now I could eat my half.
After I finished the beans, I took my water bottle and swished it about in my mouth before drinking it. It was no match for mouthwash, but it did something.
An unsettling feeling settled in my stomach, making me really nervous; it was the kind of feeling I'd get before going out and performing on stage for school presentations or whatever. That's the only way I could put it. Without realizing it, my leg began bobbing up and down as I stared off into space and chewed on my lip, nearly drawing blood.
"Whacha' thinkin'." Daryl gruff voice called out.
Looking at him, I started packing my things; he gradually caught on and started doing the same.
"Think we're being watched."
He nodded and put the rucksack over his shoulder, the crossbow aimed out in front of him.