Home Is Your Heartbeat ('Home Is' Book Two - Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 45 - Paint It Black (Rolling Stones)

NATE

"Look, I know you're all scared...."

Oh, I'm scared alright. But not for me. Even more than that? I'm almost homicidal....and I want to scream at him.

'This isn't a freaking pep rally, Rick! Stop your sermons, give everyone some direction and just let them get on with it. The more you make them wait and listen to your codswallop? The more frightened they make themselves!'

And right now, they're terrified. Standing here, listening to the cacophony of moans and bangs that're coming from a few feet away.

With only half an inch of metal and a few struts separating us from the thousands of walkers outside.

"The others, they're gonna come back. Daryl, Abraham and Sasha will lead the rest away just like we've planned. Then Glenn and Nicholas will come through the front gate. They know what they need to do and so do we."

"Keep noise to a minimum...."

I do just that. Turn his voice off in my ears before stalking away towards our home.

*

It's still intact. The 'Wolves'  hadn't managed to make it this far. Carl and Enid made sure of that before she did a runner.

He'd also taken care of Muttley. Shut him inside before joining his Dad and the others at the wall.

"Hey, furbutt"  I slide down the laundry wall.

Sit there not moving while he generously bathes my face with his stinky tongue. Eventually, he lay beside me, plonking his head on my lap. I gather enough strength to put my hand down and rub his ears.

All the rest of my being is focused on the PLAN  I formulated on my way home.

Yup, you read it right folks.

It isn't a 'Plan'  but a 'PLAN'  in italicised, bolded and underlined capitals no less. That's how determined I am.

When my husband comes home, when....not if!  Then I'm packing up our gear. Because we're getting our asses as far away from this place as humanly possible.

Away from everyone and everything in this glorified fucking cemetery.

We'll look after each other and Muttley. Live our own lives and not give a toss about anyone else. These Alexandrians can look after themselves for a change or die trying.

My bet is on the latter, the dying I mean. Because I doubt even this latest catastrophe will motivate their asses to even try  anymore.

I'm done! And I'll be damned if I let Rick or anyone else put me or mine in danger from this point on.

"Screw that and screw them"  I hiss viciously, causing Mutt to skitter back in alarm.

I jump up too and make for my stash under the stairs. I've been scavenging since the day I arrived, adding to my personal little armoury.

With the large and heavy canvas bag in my hands, I stalk outside. All the way back to the main gate.

Everything drops at my feet once I realise what they're doing.

Beyond rage or sense, I run up to the fence and grab the paintbrush out of Gina's hands. Dunk it in the pot then slop paint over the name she's writing.

"My husband is not 'In Our Memory'! He's alive, well and out there putting his life on the line. SO YOU CAN FUCKING LIVE!"