Sneaky

Chapter 105

I rubbed my forehead, waves of exhaustion hitting me again like bricks being stacked on my shoulders. Enough someone could probably build a house around me.

Thinking that far ahead isn't a good idea. It gives you unrealistic views and hopes of the future. Which could get us killed. It's good to have a goal like that to work towards but we need to focus on what comes next right now.

"That's not important right now." I looked at Rick specifically. "We need to focus on our immediate concerns: Food, water, warmth, shelter. Everything else can— needs to be sidelined for a later discussion." I emphasized for the sake of our pressing concerns that seem to be going to ignored for the sake of yet another pointless group fight.

Rick nodded, the group finally refocusing and taking a much needed but stale breath.

"We'll make camp tonight. Over there." Rick pointed through a sparser section of the trees, at a little space of brown-greyish cobblestone stone walls. "Get on the road at the break of day."

There's no telling what it could've been, before. A house or some kind most likely, but there's stuff like that all over the East Coast. Old and pulling over from another century.

Most of the group stepped forward to get a look at where Rick's pointing.

I breathed out, specifically watching my breath. It's starting to turn white. It could snow any day now.

"Does this feel right to you?" Carol drew my and Daryl's attention, even Glenn paused to glance at her as he walked past behind me.

"Right now we need to rest. That's as good a place to start as any." I answered.

"Damn you get chatty when yer dead on yer feet." Daryl mumbled, picking up his crossbow off the back of the bike and checking it over.

I shrugged, not even bothering with a comeback. My only goal right now, is to go back to sleep — without worrying the group's gonna rip each other a new one the second I'm not looking. So whatever gets me there, hallelujah.

Beyond tonight though, we need to think about where to find gas around here. And where the Hell we even are — I still have no idea which direction we went, what road this is, how long we've been driving, where to even start looking for places to replace all the supplies we lost, what supplies we did manage to save, the list goes on and on.

I wanna bang my head against a rock, or lie down on this street and just knock out for a few hours.

I'm too tired for this. But someone's gotta think about it and clearly no one else is in a state to.

Why's it always me? Why am I always the one focused on swingin' the bat instead of trying to predict where the ducking ball is gonna fly.

Whatever, they can think about what's happened. I'm gonna focus on us not dying at the moment, while they process the events of today.

This is what you get for not paying attention.

I blew my hair out of my face, knowing if I try to reach my hand up right now, I am gonna wanna kill myself for it.

I smacked my lips, feeling the sandpaper muscle in my mouth try to shred the roof of my sore mouth.

Water. That's our next quest.

Gas is a tomorrow problem.

We need to take stock of what supplies we've got left, and what was grabbed from the house before we all split.

Warmth is next. We need to get started on setting a camp for the night before the temperature drops too low and we lose the light. Which is fading fast.