Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 5: Little Bit of Luck

I wake to the sound of birds chirping, the wind moving through the trees, and the faint bustle of life. I stay in place, taking it all in, reminding myself where I am before pushing myself up. My mouth is dry and sticky and my teeth feel rough on the surface, so I dig for my hygiene products.

Armed with my plastic toothbrush and a nearly empty tube of toothpaste, I venture outside. I scrub my teeth until I'm minty fresh, spitting into the nearest foliage, then duck back inside to change into some slightly cleaner clothes. All I've got is jeans and t-shirts, but they'll do. Just in case, I tie a button-up flannel around my waist. With that done, I retrieve my bag of laundry and head out. It's my first real day at camp and I'm going to be a productive member of this group if it kills me.

Everyone's keeping busy. Dale, Glenn, Morales, and another man work on the Challenger, although I'm not sure what they're doing. Shane pulls up in a Jeep, hollering about water, and Andrea and Amy start unloading jugs from the back. Sophia's mother (I still don't know her name) is ironing some clothes near the RV. For a second, I wonder how she managed to get electricity out here, but as I get closer, I realize that it's a wrought-iron piece that you can warm up in a fire. Clever.

I figure she'd be a good person to talk to if I need to do laundry, so I approach her. She glances up when she hears me coming, lip twitching a little at the side in a demure smile.

"Good morning," I greet.

"Morning," she says. "Sleep well?"

After a good cry, I always find I sleep better, so I nod. "Yeah, it was pretty good." She hums a bit and I shift on my feet, adjusting my bursting backpack. "So, um, I was wondering...how does laundry work around here?"

"It's not fun, I'll warn you," she says. "Scrubbing on a washboard. It doesn't beat my old Maytag, that's for sure."

I baulk a little. "Oh, I've...never used one."

"Most of us hadn't, until recently." Her smile grows a little and she glances down at her work. "I'm done here. I'll get Lori to hang up the rest of these, then I can show you how...if you'd like."

"I would love that, thank you," I say. "I'm Hope, by the way. I'm...I don't think we met."

"Carol. It's nice to meet you."

Carol gathers up the ironed clothes and brings them over to where Lori and Rick are talking over a clothesline. Lori smiles and nods as Carol hands over the clothes before she turns around and returns to me.

"This way. I left the washtub at the quarry."

We've only taken a few steps when a piercing scream seems to halt every conversation at once. There's another, then the sound of young voices crying for their parents, and Carol's breath hitches.

"Sophia!" she cries.

"CARL!" I hear Lori shout.

Carol takes off in the direction of the screams and I follow her, heart in my throat, backpack thumping against my lower back as I run. Rick and Lori are ahead of us and a few others from the camp follow.

We rush through a small patch of trees before Jacqui appears, followed closely by Carl and Sophia. Carl runs right into Lori's arms and Carol opens her arms to Sophia. A group of men carrying shovels and other blunt weapons race past us towards where Jacqui directs them.

"Nothing bit you? Nothing scratched you?" Lori asks as her hands move wildly over Carl.

"No, I'm okay," he says, although he doesn't let go of her for even a second.

Carol hushes Sophia, petting her hair, and I leave them to see what the commotion is about. Only a few feet away in a small clearing, now surrounded by men, is a walker and a dead deer. The deer's neck is torn open and arrows stick out of its rump. The walker digs into its flesh with his bare hands, groaning as he eats.