From the Shadows

Hershel looked at Teagan, stunned. He didn't think she had planned to leave at all. He readjusted his stance, looked her square in the eye and said,

“If you plan on leaving, you need to wait until you're healed.” He kept it vague intentionally. He liked her, even though she seemed cold and distant, and he knew leaving could be a death sentence. He hoped that if he didn't give her a number, she won't plan as hard on leaving, and he might convince her to stay.

His plan didn't work, as she reciprocated with a follow-up question.

“How long until I heal?” Her words were short and intentional. She was determined from the start to leave this place as soon as possible. She had trust issues, and they seemed nice but they were still all strangers. The longer she stayed, the more she would owe them, and the stronger the threat of getting attached would become.

Hershel sighed a long sigh, and with a sad voice responded exactly how he didn't want, but he wasn't going to be a liar.

“If you keep resting, no more than a week or two. I want to make sure infection doesn't set in, and that there is no risk of reopening the wounds.” He turned slowly, and unconsciously shook his head in disapproval. Teagan walked outside for the first time since her arrival, and observed all the members of the group managing their own tasks. She didn't know any of their names, only Daryl, Glenn and those of Hershel's family. No one had come to see her, but that didn't bother her. Out of nowhere, a boy of twelve ran his way over to her, smiling.

“Hi!” he yelled, almost too excitedly. Teagan wasn't partial towards children, or anyone for that matter. But she knew rejection and neglect firsthand, and intentionally did not ignore the small boy.

“Hi.” she almost squeaked.

“My names Carl. What's your name?”

“Teagan.”

“Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Just then, a tall man with an unshaven, tired face walked up. He wore a sweat and dirt stained sheriff’s shirt. He nodded and introduced himself. “Name's Rick Grimes. I'm this little guy's dad,” and he ruffled Carl's head. “I hope he isn't botherin' you.” His accent was definitely southern, but not as heavy as Daryl's.

“No, he's fine. I'm Teagan.” Short, sweet, to the point.

He proceeded to welcome her, and introduce the group from a distance. Lori, his wife, was tall and pretty with long, dark hair and big eyes. Carol, older than Lori with grey, short hair. Dale, oldest in the group with a silly hat, a white beard, and friendly eyes. Andrea, long blonde hair and a strong glare. Teagan made a note to try and avoid her. Shane was Rick's friend from before the outbreak, tall and muscular. Teagan and Shane made eye contact, and it made her uncomfortable. She shifted, curling her mouth, and looked away. She made a note to avoid him, too. She already knew Glenn and Daryl, though Daryl and her hadn't talked since she punched him. She didn't care. He seemed the not-too-social type anyway, much like her. Maybe they'd actually get along by not talking. Rick finally pointed to T-Dog, recovering from his own injuries from a few days back. Teagan suddenly realized how she had not seen a single walker the entire time she was at the farm. She wondered about their security, their plans and strategies. What kind of people are they? Violent? Methodical? Lucky? Every day since the outbreak, she had seen and had to kill more than one walker. These people lived in a miniature paradise. No. Stop. You can't stay here. She had to remind herself not to get attached.

Teagan pushed the hair out of her face, smiled at Rick, and quietly said, “Uhm, I'm going to go back inside. Feeling a bit tired.” She lied. She wanted to be out running around more than anything, but she couldn't bear talking anymore. If she distanced herself, maybe they wouldn't want her, making it easier to go. Rick nodded, and she slipped inside.

Once inside, she found a bookcase filled to the brim, with an unorganized and beautiful mess of literature. She gawked, picking up some of her favorites, fanning through, and putting them back, ogling at the selection. Hershel managed to sneak up behind her.

“Those were my wife's. She loved to read.”

“She had great taste.”

“Feel free to read anything you want.” And with that, Hershel stepped away as quietly as he came. Teagan loved to read, and hadn't been able to for quite some time. However, she felt the need to organize them first, like a library. By author, then title. She needed to channel herself, give herself some relief. She always found comfort in organization, and the control she felt while doing it. This was no different. Halfway through, Maggie walked in and gave Teagan a strange look.

“What're you doin'?”

“Alphabetizing.” Quick answers is what she was famous for.

“Why? That hasn't been messed with in years.”

“Just felt like it.”

With that, Maggie left her alone. Teagan was strange, and did not give off a friendly vibe. She didn't seem unfriendly either, but Maggie left her to the books. Once finished, she grabbed one of her favorites, hurried to her room, and sped through it. She was a fast reader, and she got good at it in childhood when all she was allowed to do was be quiet, and she was only quiet when reading. She'd escape to the nearest library and read until the sun set, and would scurry home and hope no one knew she was gone that long. She kept reading when Carol brought her dinner, and clean clothes. Teagan saw her come in, but pretended to be too engrossed in her reading to notice. Carol was respectful and quiet, and left soon. Teagan felt sadness radiate from Carol, but also kindness. She might inquire later, but now was not the time. Teagan finished up the chapter, ate her food, and fell asleep.

The next morning, Hershel went in to check on Teagan. When he opened her door, he saw she wasn't in bed, and all her stuff was gone. Backpack, shoes, bow and quiver, everything. He checked the bathroom, but it was empty. He noticed a bit of blood on the sheets.

She tore her stitches in her sleep, he thought to himself. He sincerely hoped she hadn't left, because she wasn't healed and needed restitching. He was the only one awake, but knew better than to try and go after her. He waited an hour, and was surprised to see Daryl. Hershel beckoned to Daryl, and Daryl rolled his eyes and marched over to Hershel.

“Have you seen Teagan? She's not in bed.”

“Who?”

“Teagan. The young gal you brought with you two days ago.”

Daryl scratched his chin, and realized he hadn't learned her name yet. He shook his head, “No, haven't seen her.”

“Can you try and find her? I think she ran off, but she isn't healed up yet. I think she tore her stitches.”

Daryl sighed at the request. Why I always gotta do the dirty work... He nodded his head, grabbed his crossbow and headed into the woods. It didn't take long for him to find her, or rather stumble upon her sitting down.

“Tha hell ya doin' out here?”

“Skinning animals. What does it look like?”

He was so surprised to see her, he didn't notice she had gone out hunting. A small deer, and a handful of squirrels. He was impressed. Most of the time, he couldn't snag a deer. She seemed to do it in record time. This was no time to applaud her, though.

“You stupid or sumthin'? Coulda got yerself killed.”

“I can take care of myself.” Daryl thought to himself, does she always say that?

“Hershel was lookin' fer ya. Said ya popped yer stitches.”

“Took care of that.”

Daryl was confused, and Teagan responded snarkily to his grimaced face.

“It means I stitched it back up myself.”

“I know what it means. Why you out here?”

“Hunting. Isn't that obvious?” Her sarcasm was pissing him off, but he secretly appreciated her quick wit.

“Why? I do that 'roun here.”

“Yeah, well, you aren't the only one. I need to earn my keep.”

“You only bin here two days.”

“Today is the third. Three days worth of food.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and offered her a hand to help her up. She ignored it, stood up on her own and tried to cover up her wincing, but he noticed. He didn't mention it, though. He recognized her need to avoid looking weak. He went over to carry the deer, but she angrily protested.

“I said I can take care of myself.” She grabbed the food, supplies, and stormed off towards the farm. Stupid bitch, he thought to himself, and followed her back.