Tribulation

Chapter 4: Months Gone By..

It was about 6:00am in the morning, as the early light shined through the prison's high windows. Light footsteps were heard outside Rick's cell, and the squeaks of uncomfortable bunks were aswell. Rick finally fluttered his eyes open, first greeted by the numbness in his forearm that he's been unknowingly sleeping on all night. He groaned softly, leaning himself up slowly and rubbing his eye. He fixed his eyes on his holster that sat on the floor across the cell, remembering what events took place 3 months ago...

The raid on Woodbury, and the death of one of our own who got lost and wounded up with the most evilest person.. Andrea. New people were taken in, due to the loss of their community. But still, he's still out there.. he's still out there..

"Dad.." A voice crept from around the corner of my cell. Carl stood there, leaning himself within the doorway.

"Yeah?" I cleared my throat, as I slid to the edge of my bunk, looking over to him with my brows raised.

"I'm ready whenever you are.." He smirked childishly.

I softly smiled, sustaining myself from my bunk, as I slowly walked to my holster that laid on the floor. "I'm ready," I reassured, carrying it with me as we both left my cell..
---
"So is everything okay for now?" Carl asked the million dollar question, as him and Rick walked side by side across the courtyard, making their way to the open fields.

Rick seemed baffled, not knowing the answer to that question. As he continued walking,  he eyed Sasha and Tyreese who sat at the bleachers by the prisons basketball court. "I don't know, Carl." He shook his head. "One day at a time.."

"He's gonna come back.." Carl went on, eyeing the ground hardly.

Rick sighed softly, peering his eyes up to the blue sky, which was probably the only calming thing this world could offer anymore. "Well we don't know that, but we are prepared, we have more people." Rick exclaimed.

Carl nodded.

Rick looked over to his son, softly smirking as he picked up a rake from the ground and held it out to him. "Let's get to work now.."

-----

"Never fail to impress me, Daryl.."  Exclaimed Carol, who was watching Daryl work his way over to her with a 125 pound deer over his broad shoulder. She crossed her arms, as a smirk slithered among her lips.

"Wasn't easy this time, Sumbitch was a squirmier,"  Daryl let out a huff as he threw the lifeless deer at his feet. "Let's cook it up."  He half-smirked.

After the deer had been butchered, Carol took the duty of cooking it up for everyone who was gathered around in little hand-made ramadas and table benches in the courtyard. "Mr. Dixon.."  A shy Patrick spoke up from behind Daryl who was beginning to make his way back inside the prison, he turned and faced him due to being unfamiliar with who called him out.

Patrick perked up a nervous smile as he played with his hands. "I.. I just wanted to say thanks for the deer you caught out there."  He went on. "I'd be honored to shake your hand sir.."  He tried asking in a not so weird way as he put out his palm.

Carol held in her giggle as she watched Daryl's expressions.

Daryl glanced down at his hand, smirking a bit as he raised his hand to his mouth, licking off the grease on his fingers, before soon taking his hand in his, giving him a firm handshake..

Watching Daryl soon walk away with Carol, Patrick stood there a while trying to comprehend what just happened, he then snapped out of it before taking over the grill for Carol.