Season 2, Episode 12: Better Angels
November 14th Day 82
Dale had been buried. They held a funeral, and Rick had been making promises he knew he couldn't keep but Rory hoped they could. Dale was very hopeful but that did nothing in this world. Despite everything, Rory was angry at everything right now. She ignored everyone. They didn't try to talk to her either, knowing she needed her space.
Rick stood beside Hershel to discuss the new decision; moving into the house. “It'll be tight, twenty people in one house.”
“Don't worry about that.” Hershel insisted. “With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up. . .”
Beside Hershel, Maggie spoke up, “With fifty head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringing a damn dinner bell.”
“She's right.” Hershel agreed. “We should've moved you in a while ago.”
Rick hadn't said anything more of that, instead, turning to everyone else. “All right, let's move the vehicles near each of the doors facing out toward the road. Just leave it there. We'll build a lookout in the windmill, another in the barn loft. That should give us sightlines on both sides of the property.”
Rory picked up Kat from the RV and buried her face into the cat's fur. Kat was all she needed, nothing more. All they needed to do was survive, which to do that they needed a jacket and weapons. Dale had given her the jacket she now wore and she kept her Katana on hand.
“Kid,” Daryl said but she didn't turn to face him. “Rory.”
Sighing, she turned to face Daryl. “Hm?”
He held out a small crossbow to her. “Take it. You need somethin’ other than jus’ a sword, it's old but it'll work. I checked it to make sure it works.”
Rory grabbed it, slinging it over her shoulder and turned away.
“Ya should help Lori,” he called.
Rory clenched her fists, why did everyone keep ordering her around? She went to help Lori and T-Dog.
“Whoa. Don't– don't– Don't strain yourself.” He said kindly, taking the box Lori was holding.
Lori gave him a small smile. “Thank you. Rick and Carl and I are taking the corner of the living room.”
Hershel opened the door, gesturing to the box. “You can put that in my room.” he looked at Lori, “You'll be more comfortable there.”
Lori shook her head weakly. “We can't do that.”
“Well, I'll probably sleep on the couch, Mr. Greene. It'll be more comfy than a tent,” Rory said, looking up at Lori. “You didn't have to do this.”
Hershel laughed. “Everyone should help people in need. A pregnant woman and a child sleeping on the floor while I've got a bed to myself? I don't think so.”
“This is still your house.” Lori reminded him.
“It's our home.” He corrected her. “I'll take the couch downstairs. On nights when I came home reeking of bourbon, my wife would lock the bedroom door. I'm sad to say that couch and I become old friends.”
T-Dog came back and picked up another box, glancing at them. “Look, if y'all can't decide, I'll take it.”
Rory giggled. “I've always slept on couches at home. It was either that or the floor, but it was better than nothing.”
“Well, that couch,” Hershel grinned, looking at Rory, “I'm taking it.”
Rory smiled for the first time that day. “I can take it, I'm the youngest.”
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ɢʜᴏsᴛs ~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍¹
HorrorAfter the world fell, Rory didn't think anything would get better. She watched her city burn, her family turn, her house collapse...she barely made it out, but thanks to Glenn, she managed. She doesn't think the world can get back to normal, and it...
