Sneaky

Chapter 81

Eve's POV

At the sound of footsteps, I looked over my shoulder from my crisscross seat on the grass a fair ways behind the house.

Dale waved, coming to stand in front of me.

"Rick's given me the day to talk to everyone. Try to change some minds about the boy, Randall. Try to save his life."

I perked up, sitting straighter and Dale's eyebrows raised. A somewhat relieved smile coming to his face.

"I take it, you're with me on this?"

No I'm totally on board with murdering a teenager who probably has all sorts of trauma by now. I nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically; I heard my neck pop.

"Can I count on you to help me convince the others?"

I nodded, standing up.

"I'm gonna try to talk some sense into Glenn next. Care to join me? He might listen to you more than me."

Listen to me over you? Hah! Good one.

If he doesn't listen to you, he won't listen to anybody. You don't give yourself enough credit, Dale. There's a reason most of us don't tangle with you.

I don't know how I feel about admitting it, but you scare me sometimes.

-

I ran a hand through my gross hair, pulling it away from my face. I left my hair tie in my tent. I need to dip my head in a bucket of water or something.

I can't believe things have gotten this bad.

I sat on the log at Daryl's empty campsite, waiting for him to come back from his hunt so we can gather up with the others.

Dale said he already talked to him, and Daryl should be back before dark anyway.

I don't know if this situation is salvageable. Things are worse off than I imagined.

When Dale told me Rick gave him a chance to talk to everyone, I thought there was still a chance to save the kid.

But everyone we talked to today, has either been indifferent like Hershel, gung ho for homicide like Shane (nor surprise there; I didn't even both talking to the man with Dale), or unsure where to fall like T-Dog and most of the others.

At least T is smart and has actually thought about why he is where he stands(Thank Merlin's beard); Less scared and more concerned by the actual facts. Not some self-told bs like, 'I don't feel good with him around. He's scary'.

At least T's being reasonable about the whole thing. So far, not many of the others have.

The way we left things, he still isn't on our side but he's agreed to at least hear out the argument that's no doubt gonna happen when all of us cram ourselves like sardines into the house in a bit to discuss.

He's on board with whatever the group decides as a whole.

Talking to him kinda reminded me the importance of being impartial in a situation like this.

I don't wanna kill this kid, I hate the way he's been treated, I hate how everyone has reacted to his presence, and I loathe the way this whole thing is and has been handled, but what I want is not the primary concern.

Their reactions aren't unreasonable.

Blown way out of proportion, — maybe. But not unfounded.

I'm not the only person uncomfortable with killing a kid, T & Glenn, even Maggie proved it. But I've let myself get too emotionally invested.

As much as I wanna save the kid and give him a chance, the other's may be seeing something I'm not. Whether it's because I'm too close to the issue, or because I've seen reflections of myself & so many others in the kid, or maybe because I take pity on him — I don't know.

I need to take a step back. He's a kid, but he's still a functional human being who does pose a sort of threat still.

Never judge a survivor until you know what they did to survive. I more than anyone should know looks can be deceiving, that's how I survived the homes.

'Sometimes we have to do things we don't like. It doesn't have to make us feel good, but it's gotta be done.' My mma teacher's words rang from the subtle corners of my mind as a watched a bug crawl into the empty fireless campfire pit.

I don't want to kill him. I don't want him to die. I don't want us to be the ones to do it.

But... what I want doesn't matter as much as what we need.

"It time?"

I jumped two feet in the air, as Daryl walked up from the forest; coming this close to being the one doing the impaling for a change.

He raised his hands and the —legh— furry burnt cabbage rodents, in surrender but he didn't stop walking towards me.

He must have some kind of confidence. I almost let this knife have a nice flight and plant itself in his eye socket, and he didn't even blink.

The more important thing though is...

I'm supposed to be the sneaky one here.

Me. Not you.

Quit stealing my job, you spatula.

It's one of the few positions left standing after the apocalypse. And it's paid in boredom relief.

He motioned and dropped his kills on the log I had been sitting on before he decided to take a gamble with his life on whether or not I'd realize it was him in time to stop my own reflexes.

Now I know what it's like to be on the other side of this.

I don't like it. Switch back with me.

Daryl set down his crossbow before heading off, and we back to the house in silent oranging light.

I'm tense, but I don't know how he isn't. Maybe he is and just isn't as much as I am, and I'm only noticing it because I'm more tense than usual and—

"Hey. You good?"

I nodded without thinking and Daryl stopped; causing me to stop as well and look at him, trying not to chew my lips because call me paranoid but I think he's pegged that habit.

"You sure?"

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out.

"Ain't nothin' you can do about it if this don't go the way ya want it to. Whatever happens in there, ain't on you."

"How did you know I was..." Eve speak!

Daryl continued past me and after my brain caught up, and my jaw was done hanging open, I jogged after him; flying up the steps straight past Carl, Lori, and Rick who were headed up the spacious deck as well.

I followed Daryl's back around the corner to the largest space in the house aside from the dining room; the living room.

From the moment I set foot inside and got a view of the whole room, I saw it. On their faces.

They've already decided.

Everyone gathered up in the living room, as the door closed for a final time behind Lori.

We've lost before it's even begun.