Sneaky

Chapter 110

As I came back into the light, Rick stared me down with a clenched jaw, and it didn't phase me in the slightest.

"Last thing we need is for everybody to be runnin' off in the dark." Rick avoided looking at me even though he's clenching his teeth.

Mmm, subtle, Officer. That totally wasn't directed at me at all.

Hershel whisper-grunted in the same type of voice Rick used earlier but with more... parental authority. "Don't Panic."

Big yellow letters on a black book floating in space flashed through my mind and I can't help almost smiling.

My abs tightened with the slight charge of an impending chuckle, however it isn't amusing enough to actually bring it out of me.

Though I am glad the pain from the tender bruises doesn't feel so sharp anymore.

That could be a very bad sign, but I can't bring myself to care; Nor do I intend to even attempt to. Wasting what very little energy I have left on something so pointless just seems like madness.

Daryl and Glenn noticed my return almost immediately, along with Randall, and I held out the kill so Daryl — our expert hunter — can make it into something edible.

Hopefully like, right now. I'm famished.

"There see. Nothin' but a possum." Daryl held it up where he could look at it in the light. It's a fairly decent size. It should be enough to fill most of us enough to get some sleep.

We can find more in the morning.

"I'm not —" Maggie took a breath, collecting herself to steady her voice. "I'm not sittin' here, and waitin' for another herd to blow through."

What else do you suppose we do? Fly away? Swing from the trees like Tarzan? Swim?

Oh I know, we'll find bikes or scooters just sitting on the road for us. Rollerblades and skateboards should get us places better than cars. Wagons to carry our shit and all this baggage we seem to keep hauling around wherever we go.

Actually... that's not a totally horrible idea. If we didn't have cars, it'd be better than walking at least.

"We need to move, now." Maggie spoke firmly but with a shaky edge to her voice. She's terrified and trying not to show it. That 12 gauge in her arms is probably the only thing keeping 'er from losing it.

"No one is going anywhere." Rick's voice dropped a near threatening two octaves.

Is that a fact?

Nevermind, what I wanna know is, how do you suggest we 'move', Maggie? Hm?

Stumble around in the dark forest holding hands so we can at least be together while we all get lost?

Or perhaps walking along the road in the dead of a pitch-black, night while the temperature continues to drop to intolerable levels?

We've got one person — myself — who can see the endless miles of road we'd be headed down, or you know, anything that comes stumbling out of the trees trying to eat us. Be it a walker, wild dogs, or god forbid anything else.

Not to mention, every last person here is running on fumes or less. Half of us are sporting some shiny injuries that hinder movement — also including myself.

And just for the heck of it, why don't we take into account the fact that most — if not all of us including yourself, are grieving the losses of those we've lost in the last 24 hours + the place that's made us feel safe enough to sleep.

Let's say by some miracle we manage to just take a cozy little freezing night stroll down the road without getting attacked or lost.

How long do you guess our whole 8 bottles of water will last the dozen or so of us on foot?

How many miles do you think we'll have to walk to find gas or other vehicles — working vehicles at that — to replace the ones we walked away from? Do you think we'll find food, water, shelter, places to rest, and warmth along the way?

How long do you think it'll be before our younger + more frail members like Carl, Beth, Randall, and Hershel succumb to the temperature and get sick or worse frostbite? How long before exhaustion takes them? How long would it be after that before they get sick beyond our ability to cope and we have no way to help them? Before they'd need a functioning hospital & modern meds to have any hope of survival?

Do any of us even know where we are? How far the next town is? Where the next 'safe' place is?

What happens if we get pushed off the road? How will we know if we're even headed in the right direction? My dinky little compass? The sun?

What happens when we run straight into something we can't get ourselves out of? What then, huh?

Still feel like running off in the dark?

"Do something." Carol whisper shouted at Rick, like a pushy housewife.

"I am doing something!" Rick snapped back. "I'm keeping this group together. Alive." Rick used his python, pointed at the ground to emphasize his point. He has a habit of using that thing like a 6th finger.

"I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this." He bared his teeth at the rest of us.

"I killed my best friend for you people for Christ sake!"

My eyelids retreated into my head, my jaw muscles deciding to take a sabbatical.

I knew he was dead but... Rick killed him...?

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