A Redneck's Wicked Game (A Daryl Dixon Story)

Drama On The Horizon

Chapter 48—Drama On the Horizon

**Adult Content

3 days later

Rowan's POV

I walk down into the main room, it's still early and most of the group is still asleep. I sit down on the bottom step to re-tie my boot lace. I sigh as I realize the lace is frayed and in need of replacement. "Great" I grumble under my breath, one more thing to deal with. I stand up and stretch my tight muscles before walking to the door. I hear arguing coming from Rosita and Abraham's room. I roll my eyes and keep walking; I really don't want to deal with drama today. The two of them have been fighting constantly; I wish they would just figure it out. Hell, even Daryl and I don't fight as much.

I walk outside surprised to feel the warmness. It looks like we're getting a sunny spring day today. It's already over 50 degrees and that means we should easily hit the mid-sixties today. I smile a little as I see a robin in the grass, looking for worms. That little bird has always be a sure sign of spring and its return means that warm weather will soon be here to stay. I light my cigarette, looking into my almost empty pack. We still have a couple cartons left but I'm hoping that we can find some more soon. I know I should just quit but this is the one vice I have left from before the world went to hell; my last little piece of civilization. It's stupid I know but I need to hold onto something and I sure as hell can't count on holding onto my humanity. This world loves to blur the lines and re-write morality.

I shove my cigarettes back into the front pocket of my flannel and scan the meadow in front of me. I see a couple rabbits in the high grass but I let them be. We have plenty of meat for now and I'm not hunting for what we don't need. It will only be a couple of more weeks before "planting season" is here and if we were staying we'd have to get the ground ready. I guess we could plant some lettuce and other quick growing spring crops. We may be able to harvest most of that before we leave for D.C. I'll bring that up to Rick tonight at dinner. I'm going to miss this safe haven but we need to find out if there is any hope. I'm not sure what we expect to find in D.C. but then again, that's not my concern. I follow orders, help keep this group safe and most of all watch Daryl's back. In many ways I consider this group my family but sometimes I still feel like an outsider and I probably always will. I sigh to myself, knowing that the reason I feel this way is because it's so hard for me to completely trust people. I want to change but I don't know if I will ever be able to do so.

I hear the heavy door to the Mill open and turn to see Rick closing it behind him. I nod a greeting to him as he walks over to me. He looks across the meadow and mentions, "Looks like it will be a nice day, spring may finally be here." I glance over at him, "Probably, though we could still git a couple more cold nights in the next couple of weeks. Never take Mother Nature for granted, she's a karma filled bitch." He chuckles, "You have such a way with words Rowan but you're right." I grin at him, "I'm a woman; I'm always right Rick, even when I'm wrong." He laughs, "I'm not arguing with that! I was married too long not to agree with you." I mutter, "Think you could explain that Daryl?" He shakes his head, "No sweetheart, he needs to learn that himself." We grin at each other as the front door opens again, this time Daryl makes his appearance; he was talking to Eugene and Abraham when I came outside.

He walks to Rick and me, eyeing our grins with hesitation. He grumbles, "Why the hell are you two so damn cheery? Rick answers, "It's a beautiful day and I didn't wake up on the wrong side of the bed." I nod in agreement and nudge Daryl, "Why ya so grumpy Dare?" He leans in and whispers in my ear, "I woke up to a cold bed, where did ya go so early?" I give him an apologetic look as I whisper, "I couldn't sleep so I went and took a shower, made breakfast too." He nods and lights up a smoke, settling back into the silence of the early morning.