Sneaky

Chapter 52

Frickin' biscuit tins...

I trudged through the grassy field all by my lonesome, running a hand over my forehead, pulling the stray strands back.

What the Hell are we supposed to do about this? We can't just leave it be.

If it wasn't made of pliable —breakable— wood, I might've considered leaving it alone for now, in favor of a more diplomatic solution, but this... There's no way the others —officer hothead— is gonna let this slide.

We never would'a stuck around this long if we'd known that was here.

Hell if Shane had his way, we'd have run for the hills or burned the damn thing to the ground. It's not like that's a plausible option, though.

I mean for one, Hershel might actually shoot someone for that— not that I would blame him, if what Dale said about his beliefs and his family being in there is true.

For another thing, burning it down would not only be a huge risk with all the smoke, noise, and ash it would send into the air, but it has the potential of burning down the entire property. Then where would we be?

I sighed, kicking at a half buried rock. I stopped, resting my hands on my hips.

We didn't even know it was there until now, so obviously it isn't an immediate threat, but it isn't a cozy thought having a herd of walkers —idle or not— this close.

I admit, it would be a bit of a different story if we were living in a structure— a building, and not thin fabric tents but there's no telling how this is gonna go down.

I glanced up, blowing air outta my mouth and caught sight of Daryl headed into the stable.

What's he doing? I thought he's still supposed to be recovering, did Hershel clear him already?

Heading towards the stable, I reached the entrance and looked in each of the stalls as I walked down the center.

Daryl come out of a little side room just ahead of me, lugging a saddle.

He dropped it on a metal stand and flinched, grunting as he held his side.

I jolted forward, stopping the stand from tipping over; instead of trying to grab him like I almost did. He's not usually one for touch, or accepting direct help as I've learned.

"You can't" I looked over as Carol hurried up to us from the open entrance.

How long has she been there?

"I'm fine." Daryl growled in annoyance.

Are you? Lift your arms above your head, and I'll believe you.

He stalked towards the bridle hung on the wall behind him, and I could'a sworn I saw him roll his eyes.

"Hershel said you need to heal." Carol argued, motherly concern lacing every aspect of her voice.

"Yeah, I don't care." He turned his back to us, opening the stall door to a chestnut horse.

I resisted the urge to groan. Figures as much. I knew it was too soon for him to be okayed to head out.

"Well, I do." Carol moved forward to see into the stall.

That makes two of us. As much as I would like to have him back out there, I'd rather he doesn't die trying. Trying to physically stop him from doing anything has yet to work.

"Rick's going out later to follow the trail, and Eve's going out too."

I nodded, giving a firm grunt so Daryl didn't need to look for confirmation while he situates the bridle.