The World's a Broken Bone; Melt Your Headaches & Call It Home

It was plain to see that everyone in the camp had been given a general summary of my existence in the time it took me to sleep and wake. They would know about the night-time walkers, the rescue, and of course the attempted suicide. People always think that if you look at someone from the corner of your eye that they can’t still feel you watching them. Well, they can. And I did.

When I climbed out of the tent, Lori’s clothes itching my skin uncomfortably, I was relieved to see my own things were now dry—except the red plaid over shirt I’d been wearing. A blonde girl came up to me with a smile and offered her hand.

“Hey there, I’m Amy.”

“Jenna.” I said quickly, picking up my clothes and trying to remain calm. “You didn’t by any chance see a red shirt around here, did you?”

“Yeah, it had a few holes in it though so we just—”

“Please tell me you didn’t throw it out.” I said in a panic. She hesitated for a moment, confused at my outburst, before shaking her head and telling me some lady named Carol was patching it up for me in the RV. She led me over to it willingly as I apologized for my behaviour. The man from before, Dale, was sitting on top of the RV in what seemed like a look-out post. He hollered down a hello to me before we went inside. A woman was sitting at the little table with short hair and a sadness in her eyes that didn’t look like it ever left.

“Just in time.” She slid out from the booth and handed me the repaired shirt. I thanked her quietly and held the shirt to my chest like a safety blanket, sighing. “You alright, dear?”

“This was my brother’s.” I explained, hoping I wouldn’t have to come right out and explain that he was no longer alive. She nodded once and then asked Amy if she’d seen Sophia, her little girl, who apparently wanted to meet me. “Is there anything I can do to help out or something?”

“I think some of the others are peeling potatoes of you’re up for it.” Amy said. They gave me a moment inside the bathroom to change into my own clothes (not to mention try to make my hair less psychotic) and walked me over to the fire pit where some new people were. Amy introduced them from left to right as Glenn, Jim, Andrea and Jacqui. Glenn motioned for me to sit down beside him and handed me a knife, sliding his basket of potatoes between us.

“New girl!” He chimed, an obtuse amount of happiness in his expression. “Jenna, right?”

It was a boring job, but Glenn was sort of the engine of the camp. His kindness and humour kept everyone going and made it less of a dreary place to be. He was a comedy in an ocean of horror films. I tried not to think about the fact that comedic relief characters were usually the first to go. He kept conversation going between the five of us, continually bringing passersby over to meet me despite their anxious looks. The walkers were crazy enough, they didn’t want a basket case to deal with too. After about twenty minutes Shane sat down across from me, starting up a conversation with Jacqui.

“So what’d you do before all this?” Glenn asked, tossing a peeled potato into the basket and exchanging it for another one.

“You mean before the world went to shit?” He laughed but nodded his head. “I wasted five years of my life getting a degree in art. Over forty grand for a piece of damn paper that’s absolutely useless.”

“Hey, you never know. Maybe if you paint a picture for some walkers they’ll leave us alone.”

“Finally, a solution to our problems.” Andrea joked. She got to her feet and heaved up the basket of peeled potatoes, announcing she was going to go wash them up and start chopping.

This was essentially how the week on lockdown went. And as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn’t so anxious to leave by the fifth day. People had grown less nervous around me, more accepting. Stopped treating me like a ticking time bomb. Glenn and Amy had become my sort of go-to’s of the group. They were generally always around to make me feel like less of an outcast, less useless. Shane made a constant habit of checking up on me, occasionally taking the time to sit down with me and casually avoid the topic of what was approaching. He offered to see if one of the girls wouldn’t mind sharing a tent with me, but I told him I was fine with him so long as he wasn’t sick of me yet.

Night time was usually when I ended up doing most of my talking. I didn’t know why I’d taken such a liking to him—maybe it was the fact that he’d saved my life twice and refused to let me die. That he cared enough about someone he’d never met to try and make sure they were half-way happy. He told me about the girl he’d been seeing before everything happened, how he was the one who shot her once she turned. We talked a lot about family and death and what life was like. He wondered aloud what it would have been like if we’d known each other before. I told him he probably would have met me under similar circumstances—the whole me needing saving bit.

“I’ve got the worst luck out of anyone I know.” We laughed about it, but it was true. I was always the one who would pick the one rotten apple out of the bunch or lose my keys on the day I needed to get inside the quickest.

One of the nights I woke up sometime before the sun, a panic running through my body as the remnants of my nightmare slowly subsided. I was crying before I even realized I was awake, clapping my hands over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise. He was wide awake, though, hand reaching for the gun before realizing it wasn’t a walker I was scared of. I tried to explain, albeit incoherently, the dream my mind had locked itself into: my brother’s death, his revival as a walker, and my hand raising a gun to him before pulling the trigger.

“It was just a dream.” He said quietly, holding me against him as I shook. The dream had done nothing in terms of making me want to live, but Shane just kept telling me that I would be alright and I was safe and he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I fell asleep still curled in his arms.

The next day Shane pulled me away from Glenn when we were in the middle of washing pots, claiming he wanted some help fishing. He got two fishing poles from Dale and led me down to the waters—the one place I’d been strategically kept away from—for the first time since the night I arrived.

“Who brought the boat?” I asked as we marched down to where the little rowboat had been tied up. Carol was washing clothes with Jacqui, Amy, and Lori—the latter still wholly unpleasant at the notion of my general existence. I couldn’t figure out why. If it was because of the whole suicide thing then she had some pretty twisted logic. Her little boy wasn’t going to suddenly want to kill himself too if I talked about—not that I ever did. I had a feeling that maybe there was something I was missing, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her why I was pissing her off so much when we barely spoke.

“Dale had it hooked up to the back of his RV. We chose this spot cause of the quarry so we lucked out with this thing.” He untied the boat and let me get in with the fishing poles, tackle box, and container of worms we’d gathered before pushing it into the water and jumping in himself. The boat rocked for a bit as he steadied the oars in their holders. I started baiting the worms on the hooks.

“Finally, something I’m not deplorable at.” I remarked as I laced the hook with the thrashing worm.

“Oh, you’re a fisher now, huh?” He teased, propelling us into the middle of the water. I tried to suppress my smile, kicking at him before telling him we’d probably have better luck if we went up stream.

“After my mom died, my dad was stuck trying to raise a temperamental teenage girl.” I explained, getting the second pole ready. “So he tried the whole bonding thing through teaching me to fish until I was actually good at it.”

“Well let’s see how many fish you can catch, Miss Professional.” He challenged as we coasted into a narrower part of the lake. It was right at the mouth where the river that ran through the forest started to expand into the quarry.

It only took about six minutes for me to catch my first fish. Shane made no attempt to mask his surprise, but held up the container meant for the catch nonetheless. For a little while, things felt alright. Out here, the trees didn’t remind me of walkers. The water didn’t remind me of drowning. The world didn’t reek of death. Just sitting in this paint-chipped boat with Shane and doing something as mundane as fishing, hell if I didn’t know any better it could have been a normal day. Some peaceful place before the walking dead.

“So art major, huh?” The smile he sported whenever he began to tease me crept onto his face. I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh despite the fact that he was wholeheartedly.

“I wasn’t half bad. Made a few bucks on the side.” I reeled in the fourth fish and added it to the pile. “All I know is I definitely don’t miss college. It’s been a blissful six years away from there.”

“Aw, come on. College was the best! You could drink all you wanted, stay up late, hook up all the time—you must’ve had fun with some boys.”

“Oh-ho. Not me.” I reeled in my line and cast out again from the opposite side of the boat. “Boys didn’t exactly like me.”

“A pretty thing like you? Now that I find hard to believe.”

“They generally got over me when I opened my mouth.” I said dismissively, brushing over the comment so I wouldn’t be smiling like an idiot. “I didn’t have a problem being honest and upfront so I scared them all away pretty quickly. But I’m sure you had no problem with the girls.”

“Yeah, I really didn’t.” He laughed, reeling in his first fish. “That makes it …what, 1 to 6?”

“It’s about to be seven.” I said, striking the pole upwards to get the hook in well before beginning to reel him in. I got to my feet, using all the strength I had to pull in the fish. It was a lot bigger than the rest of them which would at least make up for the fact that I was another mouth to feed around here. “Get the net!”

“Damn girl, we are having a feast tonight!” He exclaimed as he scooped up the squirming fish from the water. It flopped around in the bottom of the boat, easily meal enough for five. “I ought to start calling you my little mermaid.”

“Well I’ve definitely got the hair.” I joked, sitting down again. The metal fishing pole clanged as I set it down in the boat, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “Walkers can’t swim, right?”

“Not that I’ve seen.” Shane replied, dipping his hands in the water to rinse them clean. “Why?”

“A boat’s probably the safest place to be. A nice little houseboat on a lake where there’s lots of fish and no walkers. Just water and sky. Peace and quiet.”

“You don’t think you’d miss bein’ on solid ground at all?”

“Mermaids don’t need land.” I teased, sitting up again and twisting a braid into my hair absently. “There’d be a bunch of harbors on the east coast…It probably wouldn’t be hard to get a boat.”

“Is that what you’d want to do?” He asked, scooting closer and resting his hands on the oars. “If you could?”

“I’d never make it on my own…But yeah, I’d rather be out on the water where I don’t have to worry about walkers ever finding me. Where I couldn’t lose anyone else.” I was quiet for a moment before hitting his leg with mine. “What about you?”

“Nah, I got too many people that need lookin’ after.”

“I mean if you didn’t. If it was just you.”

“Then I guess…” He paused for a bit, giving actual thought to the question. “Out on the ocean sounds like a damn fine place to be…But enough dream talk, we got some fish to fry.”

He rowed us back to land and carried the bucket of fish and the poles while I tagged along with the tackle box. Carl and Sophia came running up to look at the fish, some still moving in the bucket. Andrea remarked about the number we’d brought back but Shane was quick to direct the credit to me. Glenn was going on about me teaching him how to fish as I grabbed a knife and sat down by a big rock that I could use to gut the fish.

I started with the little ones and saved the big one for last, using the blade just as my dad taught me. Slice the belly, pull out the innards—but gently, not brutally, or else you get a lot of blood and nastiness up in where you can’t get it out again. The innards lumped into an obtuse pile on the rock’s surface, the smell of them wafting through the air. The apocalyptic equivalent to freshly baked pie.

“Hell, now look at what she’s doin’.” A voice whined from behind me as I rinsed my hands of the fish blood and guts. “Leavin’ all that shit there like goddamn walker bait! Hey idiot, you tryin’ to get us all killed?”

“Pipe down, Merle.” Andrea hissed from my left. I put all the fish back in the container and set it down near the fire pit, drying my hands on my shirt.

“Don’t come cryin’ to me when the whole place is flooded with walkers cause this thing can’t clean up right. Someone needs to beat some sense into that girl.”

“Leave it alone.” Daryl said half-heartedly from a corner, sitting in a chair fixing up his crossbow.

“Quit actin’ like I’m the one who done somethin’ wrong!” Merle yelled.

“Look man,” I got to my feet, turning to face him. “I get that you hate me and all but you standing there yapping like a Chihuahua isn’t going to get rid of the guts. If they’re bothering you that much you can clean them up your damn self.”

He narrowed his eyes at me as I placed my hands on my hips, waiting for some sort of response. Daryl tried to get him to leave again but he just stood there, glaring. I rolled my eyes and began to turn when he reeled back his fist and threw it down against my face. The force sent me falling backwards and he didn’t hesitate to clamber atop me and land another punch. My hands went up in a feeble attempt at self-defence as Sophia screamed.

“I’ll teach you to call me a goddamn dog! You stupid fucking bitch!” He spat as Daryl held back his hand from meeting my head again. It was Shane’s voice I heard next, roaring at Merle as he ran at him, tackling him to the ground. Amy and Andrea were at my side, trying to help me up and asking if I was alright. I was pretty sure Shane landed a few punches of his own before threatening Merle in a chokehold.

“You touch her again and I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” He hissed, throwing Merle’s head against the ground before getting up and directing Daryl to get his brother out of sight. Andrea took me into Dale’s RV while Amy went to get a wet cloth.

“As much as I admire your bravery, standing up to Merle doesn’t usually end up too well.” Andrea gave me a weak smile, eyes darting now and then to the blood I could feel trickling from my nose and mouth. They were both throbbing with pain but I did my best to hide it. Amy came in with Shane close on her heels. He took the cloth from her and promised the girls he could take it from here. They left us alone and he heaved out a sigh before sitting beside me and mopping the blood from my face.

“You alright?” He asked, tilting my head up to clean me up properly. I avoided his eyes at all cost.

“I could’ve done this myself, you know.” I said weakly, wincing whenever he hit a tender spot. When he was finished he used the cloth to rub the blood off of his own hands—blood that wasn’t mine. We fell silent, my eyes finding their way out the window at the people trying to act like there hadn’t just been an unfair fight between a grown man and a twenty six year old girl. A sigh escaped me as the coin found its way from my pocket to my hands, flipping between them. “You know what day it is tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” He said quietly, his feet twitching in his big clunky army boots. It was something I’d grown to take comfort in, the reliability of Shane. Always carrying the same gun, always running his hands through his hair the same way, always tucking his pant legs into his boots, always leaving the top three buttons undone. Shane Walsh, my three-time saviour, as constant as the coin in my hand. “You made a decision yet?”

“I thought I did, but I’m not so sure anymore.” He looked over at me and I took the cloth from his hand, pressing it against the reappearing bloodstream. “I’m not exactly everyone’s favourite around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Come on, Jen, Merle hates everyone.” He reasoned, but I shook my head, nodding out the window at Lori who kept throwing glances at the RV as she folded clothing. “Lori…she’s…she’s complicated.”

“Oh,” I saw it now, the way he looked at her. I tried to ignore the squirming feeling in my stomach. “You love her.”

“No.” He said sternly, turning back to me and cracking his knuckles individually. “I don’t know what it is, but I sure as hell don’t love her. I can’t.”

“Falling for someone you shouldn’t, now I can’t imagine what that’s like.” I laughed, but immediately regretted letting the words leave my mouth. I turned away from him, suddenly very interested in the blood patterns on the blue cloth, trying to ignore the fact that he was staring at me. “What I’m saying is maybe I should go somewhere else. I can’t always have a bodyguard to defend me from hillbillies and walkers.”

“Oh, I’m your bodyguard now?” He smiled, nudging me with his elbow. I bit back my smile, shaking my head and turning to face the wall instead. He was quiet for a moment. “You could if you stayed.” He shrugged, looking over at me.

“Could what? Employ you as a full-time bodyguard?” I raised my eyebrows at him, laughing. “And pay you in what, watercolours and fresh fish?”

“I’ll give you the Jenna rate. Free of charge. Limited time offer.” He smiled. I shook my head at him, feeling at the edge of my nose to make sure the blood had stopped flowing. “What can I say? I kinda like having you around.”

“Yeah well,” I muttered, ducking under the table so that I could scoot out of the booth. “Hang around me too much and the crazy might rub off on you.”

“I’m serious, Jen.” He got to his feet and blocked my path, tilting my head up so that I was looking at him. “Don’t you go walkin’ out on me.”

“Alright.” I shrugged, looking away and twirling the coin in my hand. “I won’t, okay? Consider this my formal application to stay alive.”

“Consider your request approved.” He moved to the side to let me by, letting me make it to the door before shooting out one last comment. “My little mermaid.”