To Keep You Close to Me

The farm was bigger than I had expected. The family owned a large farmhouse atop of several acres of land. Daryl drove us up to the front of the home where the family and the rest of our group waited. We were silent for awhile, but Rick told us that Carl would be fine. Hershel, the farm owner had saved him, along with his people and the help of Shane, whose hair was now shaved.

We all breathed a sigh of relief and hugged the happy parents. But shortly after the reunion, we were rushed to a makeshift burial ground where a funeral was held for a man named Otis. He apparently died in the search for supplies to save Carl. Daryl looked over to me as Shane told the story of the man’s last hours. I could tell that Daryl didn’t believe Shane, and I wasn’t too sure if I did either.

The small ceremony finished, leaving us all to go our own ways. I heard Rick telling Hershel about Sophia, and instead of following them, Daryl walked to his bike, with me behind him. When we were far enough away, I asked him what that look was for.

“Don’t you believe him?” I added.

“Do you?” he countered. “His story seemed a little too rehearsed. Ya know how Shane is.”

“Yeah, I do.” Daryl grabbed his crossbow, throwing it over his shoulder, prepared to continue the search.

“I’m goin’ out there tonight. Will you stay here and set up camp?”

I sighed, but agreed. “Be careful, okay?”

He nodded, “Always am.” He headed off to a creek out in the woods as I helped set up camp. We set up our tents, one by one, helping each other. Then we sorted through our belongings like the camp back at the quarry. Daryl’s and my tent was set up last, and once it was, I pulled all of our belongings in, trip after trip. I folded the blankets neatly by one side, figured I’d make our bed later tonight. We had too much stuff to do today. I carried all of our bags into the tent, organizing them. Though most of our stuff was combined, I kept Daryl’s and my stuff separate.

As I brought in the last bag, Dale quietly waved me over to join him. I threw the bag into the tent, carelessly, and followed him. He gathered a few others before leading us to one of the many wells on the property. I looked down into the well to find a walker sitting at the bottom. His skin was swollen and wrinkled, having absorbed so much water.

“Looks like we got ourselves a swimmer,” Dale said, cleverly.

“We can’t leave it in there,” I stated, knowing the water was probably infected.

“We gotta get it out,” Shane said.

“Why not put a bullet in its head?” T-Dog suggested.

Maggie, Hershel’s daughter denied his plan. I thought that might have been a simple enough plan, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that would be terrible.

“If that thing hasn’t contaminated the water yet, blowing its brains out will finish the job,” Andrea explained.

“I have to agree with Andrea,” I said, surprising myself.

“So he has to come out alive?” T-Dog questioned.

“How do we do that?” Glenn asked. Maggie ran into the house and grabbed a huge block of frozen ham. We lowered that down to the walker and watched as it swung in front of his face. The walker wasn’t taking the bait. Andrea then had the brilliant idea that we needed live bait. So the only way to accomplish was to lower Glenn down so that he could rope the walker, and we could pull him up. I thought it was dangerous, but it might be our only way. I helped secure the rope around both of Glenn’s legs. He then hovered over the well as we slowly and gently lowered him down. We strung the rope around the well pump and then stood to the side of it.

With Shane in front, the rest of us line up after him and slowly released the rope. Glenn was just close enough to slip the rope around the walker when the well pump began to give way. It snapped to the ground, and we were jolted forward. Our bodies fell over each other as we struggled to keep Glenn alive.

The rope was burning into my palms, slicing the sensitive skin. We pulled and pulled, and slowly inched Glenn out of the well. I could see his arms fly out over the edge, and he pulled himself up.

“Looks like we’re back to the drawing board,” Dale sighed.

“Says you,” Glenn replied. He pointed his arm at the walker at the bottom of the well. I stepped closer, careful not to get too close. I peered down into the well and saw how the rope was tangled around the walker’s arms.

“Oh my god! Glenn, you did it!” I exclaimed, telling the others of Glenn’s accomplishment. “We can pull the walker up and we won’t contaminate the well!”

“That’s great. We’re gonna need some more strength, that som’bitch is heavy,” Shane said.

“I’ll get a horse,” Maggie offered. As Maggie ran off towards the barn, the rest of us waited patiently for her return. Strangely, we were quiet but excited that we solved the problem. It was a short wait until the horse galloped over to the well. Maggie tied the rope to the horses’ saddle, then we each took a section of the rope and began tugging.

We pulled and pulled, slowly inching the monster up and out of the well. His head peaked over the brick edge, but it began to get harder.

“Pull harder, he’s stuck,” I yelled out. The group tugged harder, pulling the walker’s upper half over the edge. Some part of him must have been caught on something further down, and as we yanked the rope, we felt a release as we fell backwards. The sound of splashing stopped us from cheering.

The walker, now ripped in half, struggled to reach for us. The group peered into the well, noticing its now red color. T-Dog casually walked over and slammed his shovel deep into the walker’s skull .

“I’m glad we didn’t blow his brains out.” T-Dog’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he wiped his brow and walked away.