In the Sound

I woke up to Daryl kicking the thin blanket off of us.

His back faced me, knees bent up so that he could fit properly. He never turned over. Not once. And I had this weird feeling that he was trying his hardest to keep it that way. The tent sealed in all of our heat, swirling it around our heads just to make it hotter.

I thanked Baby Jesus that tattered blanket was gone.

It was early. The birds were chirping and whistling sweetly to each other, fluttering from branch to branch. I could hear some of them pecking against the line of ears that dangled outside. Every time I imagined the flesh squishing in their beaks, my stomach gave a painful twist.

I don’t know how long I laid there for. An hour? Maybe two?
Just resting on my back, the hard ground underneath me. There were a couple big stones that dug up into my flesh and made me shift every now and again. Bug were crawling through the little puncture holes he’d made with his arrows. As far as I could tell, Daryl was still asleep. He flinched every few minutes. Probably dreaming about hick heaven.

After ten billion years of just lying next to him, I finally sat up. My tail bone stung as I heaved myself to a hunched stand. I fingered the bottom of the flap for the metal zip, feeling the rusty piece before ripping it up. The tent door flapped into two pieces, and I ducked through.

The sun hit me first.

My lids blinked hastily, adjusting to the heavy brightness.
I hated walking up that damned hill to the house. My legs ached and the sun always made my neck sweaty. Dale was on watch, peeking around at nothing through his binoculars.

Maggie was slumped in the rocking chair on the Greene porch. She watched along the tree line, her lips set in a firm line. Even when I stepped up onto the porch, she didn’t flinch. Didn’t glance at me or politely sit up. She just sat and watched, peeking from underneath the brim of her hat.

“Mags,” I intercepted quietly. The floorboard creaked violently under my weight. I shuffled closer to Maggie, smoothing my palms over the pockets on my pants.

She finally lifted her chin, dark, round bulbs falling on my face. A faked smile stressed at her wide lips, spanning across her entire jaw. Her choppy brown hair skimmed just past her ears, curling up around her neck.

When she saw who it was, she slunk back into her soft watching. “Didn’t think I’d see ya again Nor, I’m glad Daddy made you come back. I need more people I care about ‘round here.”

Maggie and I weren’t exactly two peas in a pod. Sure we lived in the same town and went to the same school for a time. Hell, we even had some nice chats when I brought Kit round for a trip to Herschel. Before all of this, I probably would’ve scoffed at the thought of Maggie Greene caring about me. But now, now seeing someone from your home town was a rarity. A miracle.

I smiled, even though she wasn’t watching, and fell back onto the porch railing. Hands slipping either side of me, I heaved myself up until I was perched neatly on the wood. My legs were dangling below.

“You okay Mags?”

She blinked harshly at that. “Lori’s pregnant. Beth’s in shock. Daddy’s drinkin’. Some guy’s tied up in our barn. An’ I don’t even know what’s wrong with Glenn,” her big round eyes shuddered away a film of water.

Pregnant? Poor Rick. I couldn’t imagine being pregnant in a place like this. What if it came out still born? What if it came out dead? I shuddered uncomfortably, glimpses of Lori’s grim face crossing across my skull.

Maggie looked at me then, lips trembling, “What am I s’pose to do? I’m not my Mum.” She fiddled with one sleeve on her singlet, slipping it higher up her shoulder and sniffling.

“Ya don’t have to be,” I swallowed. “What’s happened with Glenn?”

A frustrated sigh coursed from her chest, “He’s jus’ been so distant. Says it’s cause o’ what happened in town but- I don’t know. He’s so up and down, I don’t know if it’s me or him.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Daryl?” Maggie threw her hands up in surrender when I looked at her mortified. “I saw ya comin’ from his tent over there. I think everyone sort of has a feeling about it. Are you-?”
Her silky eyes still trained on me, mouth curled into a side smile.

“No,” I finished awkwardly. “Well I’ve got a bit to do before everyone wakes up. Feel better, Mags.”

Heart ticking, I scooted off of the porch railing, plopping to an uneven stand on my feet. Maggie didn’t make a move to follow me. Thank god.

I trudged across the field eagerly, the barn growing with every step. When I was under its shadow, I looked up to see it towering over me. Rust and blood clouding my nose, choking me up and making me feel nauseous. I didn’t envy the kid.

There was a chunky lock woven around the door handles that Shane thrust open. I snickered at that. Whoever put it on there forget about the side door. I crept towards the side door quietly, slipping my and through the rusty handle. It creaked as I swung it open, the whole barn looking like it was about to crumble in my grasp. I hopped inside the darkness, creaking the door behind me to a shut.

It was dark.

The floor was caked in mud, blood, and little spots of chicken feathers. The wood was old and soaked, shabbily holding up the tin roof above me. Randall was tied to a pillar, his hands wound behind his back.

His head was bowed, like he was sleeping. But I knew he wasn’t, nobody could sleep in this rank old place. Not with a sea of angry people waiting to slit your throat any chance they got. The bad leg of his was wrapped up tightly in thin, white cloth. As my boots squished through the mud, his head lulled a bit.

Randall bounced his chin up until the back of his head rested on the pole behind him. “Was wonderin’ when you’d come.”

Gulping, I squished further in. Sinking and slipping in the mud before focusing on his eyes. We watched each other tensely, his shoulders shivering.

“Bentley, he alive?”

There was a hush. A long hush, followed by his uneven giggles. He looked sick. And maybe crazy.

“Damn right he is.”