In the Sound

“Hell’s a matter with ya?”

“I just- I mean- do you have to look at me like that?”

Daryl’s eye brows were furrowed. His strange expression twirling into a puzzled one. “Like what?”

My lips were puckered open, entirely uncertain of what to say. My throat crackled and burnt. I shook my head, more to myself than to him, and let my eyes glaze over slowly.

“Like-I don’t know- you’re-well- I don’t know- you-”

“Ya dog can stay here,” he intercepted. My lids blinked in surprise, padding the tops of my cheeks like moth wings fluttering.

He was already scrambling for his book again, ready to put his shield back up. He flicked to the middle of a book, scanning a few pages before randomly deciding where he was up to. I couldn’t help but notice he seemed to be much further in the book than where he was reading before.

If he hadn’t just told me Kit could stay, I probably would have snorted.

Instead, only a soft hush.

After a few moments of silence, Daryl seemed to remember I was there. He pointed his attention back at me, chewing numbly at his lip. Those dark eyes flitted over me from head to toe. Almost like he was trying to make out exactly what I was.

“You gon’ leave now or what?”

His shield blocked me out again. I paused before taking a step out. Never feeling so damn awkward in my entire life. Peering over my shoulder, my bulbs softened as I looked back at him.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

A small nod. His blank expression. And I turned to slip out of the tent without another word.

Bright streams of sunlight gleamed down on the top of my head. It shimmered off of my dark hair, embedding it with what looked like golden shards. I squinted my eyes at it before clasping my hair into a messy bun.

The walk back up to the camp was a steep one and the heat pricked the back of my neck until sweat rose. Shades of tall whistling trees were like little slices of peace.

As I trudged up the last graded slope, my eyes fluttered around the camp. Cars were pulling up into the gravel and flattening the grass beds. The sound of shutting doors were like muted thuds.

A long breath coursed through my body as I slipped between the camp’s lounge areas. It wasn’t homey, or hardly lived in for that matter. Just a small circle of chairs, huddled underneath the shade of branches. The tents were scattered around it, with people busying themselves in and out of them.

Patricia, Beth and Jimmy shuffled up the porch steps. I had half a mind to follow them inside, to check on Kit. But I knew it would only be seconds before Herschel’s disapproving eyes watching over me. The three walked hip by hip. The way Patricia made sure she walked with everyone. If I didn’t know any of them, I probably would have thought Patricia was their mother.
But the whole town knew. She’d never mother anything in her life.

As I entered the middle of the gathering, my steps slowed. Lori and Dale were no longer prodding at the camp fire. A thick, dark man was shuffling through pots and pans. His mind somewhere else.

Rick was beside a hefty log, almost looking like he was about to sit down. His fingers were threaded through a young boy’s hair, ruffling it. I couldn’t help but feel a tug at the corners of my lips. Beside him, his son reached to his elbows. His ruffled hair as dark as his father’s, but his face was round and gentle. The same way that Lori’s was. I picked at my memories for the name Rick had given me.

Cale? Carter?

I edged towards them. Rick was the only one I knew here. The only one I didn’t feel entirely awkward around. His son noticed me before he did. My lips parted slightly, tongue settled. My hello was bubbling up in my chest. I rehearsed it over and over in my mind.

But the boy interrupted me before I even got the chance to say it.

“You’re the one with the dog, right?” A childish grin was spreading up his freckled cheeks. “Can I see him?”

Rick raised his head curiously, following the excited gaze of his son until his bulbs reached mine. The corners of his eyes thinned out, his lips weakening into a breathy laugh. I felt my own lips match his in a draw of chuckles. We both knew. He was right. The kid would steal my dog away from me first chance he got.

Rick bowed his head, rubbing his palm over the scruff of his beard.

I pressed my fingers down onto my knees and hunched over. Nose to nose with the Grimes kid. He was grinning the way I knew Kit would if he was a human. My features spread into a warm welcome, “first thing, when he’s on his feet.”

He tipped his head backwards, looking for approval from Rick. Rick just snaked a hand around his shoulder and gave it a rough pat.

“So how did you calm down the beast yesterday?” I asked, punching my thumb towards Daryl's tent.

“Told Daryl that after he stayed in his tent ‘n’ rested up-,” Rick looked away for a moment, his brows sunken in deep thought.

I cocked a brow at him brightly, “that he could go back to whistling dixies?” I almost snickered at my own stupid humor. Or maybe lack there of.

“That he could kill you.”