Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 51: This New Life

SIX MONTHS LATER

I think I'm starting to get the hang of this apocalypse thing. We all are.

The prison is thriving although it was tough at first. After taking in the stranded people of Woodbury, we had to make a lot of changes—how we ran things, how decisions were made, and how the prison was set up. We needed to make it into a real community, a long-term home for us all. We also made plans for what to do if the Governor ever returned or if we had to evacuate for any other reason.

Rick stepped back from being leader. He said he needed to reevaluate, refocus, and give more time to Carl and Judith. I like to think that this came about after Carl's run-in with the boy from Woodbury, paired with some gentle advice from Hershel.

In Rick's place, a council was elected, and we all took on new roles. Daryl, Carol, Hershel, and Glenn took on the role of sharing leadership alongside Sasha, whom Woodbury elected as their representative. As they put it, Sasha is loyal, practical, and compassionate, and she's shown that over and over again. And so, slowly but surely, we found a way to make things work.

Daryl spearheads recruitment, bringing back survivors once they answer a few of our questions—one: how many walkers have you killed? Two: how many people have you killed? Three: why? Simple questions in theory, but we found they're a good way to get a glimpse of someone's character before bringing them home.

So, Daryl recruits, and when he brings them back, that's where I come in. I try to be the second person the newcomer meets, a friendly face after experiencing Daryl's resting gruffness.

"This is my wife, Hope. She'll take care of you," he usually says, or something along those lines.

I welcome them. I bring them back to my "office," which is really just the cell next to mine and Daryl's sleeping cell, and I sit them down to explain a few things and ask more questions. I ask them for their blood type (if they know it), their birthday, and ask about any conditions or existing problems that we should know for medical reasons. I record all this in one of my notebooks.

They often ask why I need to know their birthday, since keeping track of the days is nearly impossible. We don't know the exact day, but we've started a tradition that, when a new season begins, we celebrate anyone born around that time. It's another way to bring some light to the new way of the world.

After that, I ask if they need anything to help get them comfortable, and I show them around. We've upgraded the prison substantially, gaining access to the library as well as upgrading the showers and bathrooms to a workable standard. By the time I've given them a tour, someone usually has a cell ready for them, set up with any extra supplies they need.

This way, no matter what, they have one familiar face in the crowd, someone they can approach if they need anything. I've aspired to be a jack of all trades, someone who can help out wherever needed, but others have dubbed my role "the HR rep." You know how you'll keep a small dog around and their job is to go and get the big dog when danger comes? That's me.

Newcomers know me, and I try to know everyone, so I can almost always find a way to help someone find the someone they need to fix their problems. The small dog running off to find the big dog. Easy peasy.

Other than helping integrate, I'm the de-facto nurse. We have Hershel, of course, but we also brought in a doctor named Caleb Subramanian. Most call him Dr. S. On top of those two, we got a new guy about a week ago, Bob Stookey, who was a combat medic. So we have a vet, a doctor, and someone who knows trauma medicine. I'm definitely no one's first choice.

Still, I make myself available, especially to women or anyone who would feel safer talking to a woman about any issues. I've become the holder of birth control methods and menstrual products—anything we pick up from runs goes to me, and I ration them out to people as they need them. The former is a lot harder to come by because, unsurprisingly, when people start, they don't want to stop. At least we can make cloth pads to handle shortages of Tampax. Not so easy to make a condom.