Tiptoe Through the Tulips

I awoke later that day in a weird mood.
My body ached, my head hurt.
But yet I felt weirdly calm.
Collected.

The way I always felt before a performance, that second of calm breaking through the ball of nerves as I went on stage.
Strange, I was more fucked now that I had been in quite a while.
I had lost the group I had grown comfortable with, lost people with.
People I mainly trusted.

I was stuck, not knowing where they were with someone I barely knew, he had saved my life, tried to save us all.
In a normal world such an act would make for a hero, a true trustworthy being.
But now, I still felt slightly uncomfortable around him, I doubted him.
This annoyed me.

He was asleep still; we had barricaded the shop door, found the office and made a make-shift bed from anything soft left. He was laid just inches from me, as I turned my head to look at him I found myself observing him.
Wondering.

He shifted and his eyes blearily opened, causing me to look away quickly, hoping he hasn’t noticed my staring.
I just wanted to figure him out.
He groaned, mumbling about being stiff and sitting up, his shirt riding up his back, a small section of black ink visible, a tattoo?
I didn’t question him about it, instead watching as he stood, leaning backwards and stretching. I felt embarrassed again as my antics earlier flashed back through my mind.

I didn’t understand why he cared so much.

“Any idea what kind of time it is?” he muttered, glancing at me but not fully making eye contact, he was probably as uncomfortable about last night as I was.
He did have to spend half the night babysitting me.
Washing the evidence of ‘Jack’ off of me.

I shrugged, standing as well and glancing out of the window, Daryl had given me hints about how to tell the time from the position of the sun, the colour of the sky.

“It’s about mid-afternoon I think.” we had slept since the early morning, finishing our bed as the sky began to turn orange.

Red sky in the morning, Shepards warning.

The silence was awkward, uncomfortable. I pulled my tank top further up my chest, flicking my hair over my shoulders before doing the buttons up on the plaid shirt and grabbing the tennager’s hoody off of the floor.
Beth’s plaid shirt.
Fuck I hope Beth’s okay.
My heart tinged.

Tyreese had left the room as I had looked out of the window, I followed him, watching as he grabbed some random items of food, some painkillers the others had obviously missed.
A baseball bat.
Useful.

I stayed out of his way, walking over to the dusty desk, running my fingers over the plastic, over the cash till.
A piece of paper wedged under it.

I pulled it out slowly; it was in pretty good condition, not dusty or mouldy.
It hadn’t been here long.
“What’s that?” Tyreese asked, his attention finally back on me.

I shrugged, “Not sure,”

“Gunna open it?” He teased after a couple of seconds of silence; I rolled my eyes complying with his request.

We’re heading for the Prison.
No sign of Daryl or Rick.
I hope you get to read this.
Glenn x

The writing was scribbled, barely legible, obviously written in a rush.
I had never seen Glenn’s writing before.

They had made it out safely, I felt a burden I wasn’t aware I had been carrying lift and tears filled my eyes.
Tyreese snatched the note from me, I watched as he read it himself.
“Glenn was the guy with you, right?” I nodded as he passed the note back.

“No sign of Daryl or Rick”

“Did you see if they got away okay?” he frowned, knowing who I meant.

“You don’t see much when you’re unconscious.” he said shortly, I nodded, once again muttering a sorry.

“At least we have a plan...” I said after another long pause, I glanced at him, his face was hard to read.
“Do we have a plan?” I asked again, my voice noticeably higher with nerves.

He nodded a small jerky movement.
It was enough to cause a rare true smile to appear on my face.

Daryl and Rick would be fine, at least that was what I was trying to force myself to believe, they had guns and were both good shots.
The guys with me would have been hastier if there were others to sacrifice as well.
Wouldn’t they?

So Daryl and Rick would be fine.
Fine, fine, fine.
They would have caught up with the others at the place we camped, would probably still be there, just a few miles away.

“When do you think we should leave?” I asked Tyreese, he bit his lip once again, the doorway was clear and he had been staring outwards at the road.

“Well, we have enough gas to get pretty far away since you filled up here before. Got a few hours until it gets dark.” He paused, looking straight into my eyes, “Will your people be there?” I nodded, biting down on my own lower lip, in truth I wasn’t sure.

“They...they should be, unless they’ve already moved off...”

“Exactly, you know where this prison is?” I shook my head, Hershel had the map.

“I’m assuming there will be signs” I murmured, almost annoyed at how pathetic that sounded, how stupid I seemed.
He smirked at how uncomfortable I was under his gaze.

“Better heading that way then try and go through town.” I added, this seemed to persuade him, nodding he pushed the bike out of the building, shoving the note in my pocket I followed him, shivering slightly at the strong winds outside.

“Bike’s gunna be all over the place with this wind...” he grumbled, seating himself down, checking the side bag was secure.

“The tree’s should give us a bit of cover.” I said, mimicking him, sitting and holding tightly onto either side of the bike,

“Plenty of chance for something to jump out on us as well.” he said, voice tense.

So we headed off, with one bullet and a baseball bat.

Pretty much ringing the dinner bell.