Status: First ever Walking Dead fic... Here we go...

Better Angels

Simple Minded

5. Simple Minded

I climbed down the tree not too much later, I'd stayed maybe fifteen minutes more, for the sake of the view. It was definitely something to see.

I went to the house, I heard quiet music, coming from Andrea's (presumed) RV, I saw Carol pass the window and sit on the couch beside young Carl inside. It felt like something was normal in that moment, but I had to convince myself otherwise.

I walked to my own house, went inside and made a sandwich for dinner since we were on our own in the craze, hurrying to eat to avoid any conversations with my parents about my 'abduction'. It wasn't something I really wanted to talk about right now. I finished and disappeared up to my room, surprise taking it's toll when somone was in my room.

"Holy hell!" I yelled angirlly. "What are you doing in my room!?" I demanded, Daryl turned slowly and smirked, he knew he scared the piss out of me, and by his expression, he was enjoying every damn minute of it.

"Your mom offered that I just sleep on the spare cot tonight until my camp is all set up tomorrow. I must say though, your dad wasn't too happy about it. But 'dun worry, I'll pass out and be gone before you wake." He winked, taking his oppertunity to since I was pretty irked.

I grumbled something incoherent, then Merle emerged into my room as well. "Well ain't you cozy?" He laughed, voice rough with southern accent.

Daryl shrugged non-caringly as he spralled out across the too small cot set up on the wood floor of my room several feet from my bed, arms behind his head and ankles crossed.

"Night brother." Merle laughed, jogged down the stairs.

I hardly knew Daryl, or anything about him, and suddenly I sharing my bedroom with him, my sanctuary.

I sighed and kicked off my boots and laid down on the bedspread full dressed, the way I always sleep, in case of emergency evacuation.

I stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes until I jumped at the sound of snoring, I reminded myself that there was more than just me in here now, I peeked over at the green cot across the floor, for whatever reason it was that he didn't just take the thing to his groups camp, I can't imagine it.

He slept on his back, as he had promised, he passed out quickly, his arms behind his head in a makeshift pillow, ankles still crossed, he hadn't moved any from when Merle had come up.

I pulled my gaze away, lying on my back again, I blew out the candle and closed my eyes.

We have a generator, but for something as modest as room lighting, might as well use a candle instead.

I found it increasingly difficult to fall asleep knowing that it wasn't just me, I think that I laid there awake most of the night, vibrently aware of my knife in my boot.

I woke late, in a mess, too. My hair all over the place, it always was, but more so this morning, I wiped the embarrassing streak of drool from my cheek and grimaced, suddenly my heart threw itself into overdrive and I looked over, at the now empty cot.

I sighed in relief, not sure that I'd be able to live down the embarrasment of being drool girl.

I got out of bed and check the wrist watch sitting on the dresser, I never wore it, so it was just my clock.

9:48 AM

Shit... I'm supposed to be up at seven-thirty everyday to help with breakfast and do my chores.

Ugh... chores...

It was nothing major really, just feeding the horses, cleaning up camp, check supplies, perimeter run, sometimes laundry and after all that, I got to take Jack out on a run with my bow and do some hunting, hunting is my personal reward and something to work towards, I know it sounds weird, getting excited to murder animals.

I changed my shirt but left the jeans, groaning when I came to terms with the walker blood stain still in place, I didn't have time for a shower, but I could at least go wash up.

I tossed the dirty white t-shirt aside, the one I've been wearing for days, and raided my dresser for the loose black t-shirt with the yellow Nirvana smiley face on it. The neckline torn from age, but it's still one of my favorites to wear.

I pulled on my boots and laced them up, then jogged downstairs, it was alive with conversations, I first saw mom and Carol in the kitchen, making a small breakfast that consisted of the daily coffee and clunky flour biscuits.

I greeted them, then headed to the bathroom and wet down a wash cloth at the sink and started scrubbing my collarbone and neck, it came to my jaw, then faded into little pale pink splatters.

I rinsed off the cloth in the sink until the water ran clear again, I dried off and washed my hands, pausing in front of the basin, wincing away from the reflection in the glass square above it.

I risked it, my eyes slowly drifting upwards to the display. I hardly looked like a kid anymore. My childhood thrown into overdrive when I found myself covered in the blood of strangers... More often than not. Maybe I felt sorry for myself, I don't know...

I looked away quickly, takng in a deep breath and heading outside. I passed the kitchen again on my way out, now Glenn and Lori were in the kitchen as well, I walked out the front door, the front yard alive with movement.

They were still setting up camp. They had their vehicles parked just beyond the green house in a line, in front of them several tents were set up, and a rock fire ring was dug out of the ground in the centeral area of camp.

I first went to the horse stable, patting Jack and Jessop's heads, then feeding them and dumping their water buckets, filling them with fresh water, only to see speckles of alfalfa to appear on the surface again.

I walked around the farm and took care of my other chores, I did them in silence, though I did hum on occasion, there is no way to really describe humming, but the way it feels to have a tune moving through you at different heights and speeds, soft and deep, lullabic. Anyway, really.

I finished chopping wood and leaned the ax against the side of the shed.

"Ow." I muttered, jerking my hand away, examining my finger where a thin dark brown line was, then faded into the pink.

"Damn splinter..." I grumbled, kicking aside a log and sitting down on it, pulling my knife from my boot, I carefully cut the skin and with the tip of the blade, lifted it up enough to grab and pull out. It was a tedious process that formed a layer of sweat on my brow. I discarded it into the thick underbrush beside me.

I looked up, the shed that had caused all the pain stood there, almost proudly. It's roof sagged a little and there wasn't much else in there besides an old red Mustang that is my mom's. You can imagine that she hasn't driven it in a while.

I gripped my finger tightly, in hopes of smothering the pain, when it had faded somewhat, I moved my hand away, there was a small amout of blood, nothing worth crying over, yet it hurt like a bitch.

I stood up and gathered the logs into a decent pile with my good hand, the sun was almost to the center of the sky, so I assumed it was almost twelve.

On the walk back to the house, I planned in my head where I'd be going hunting after lunch. I decided on the endless fields behind the shed, beyone the fenced in limits of our own property. It used to belong to our ex-neighbor Marriam until he sold it. Now it's no man's land.

When I got inside, lunch was ready, just about everyone was inside, there were a lot of us now, so the need for fresh meat was even more nessicary now.

"Mom, I'm going out on a hunt after lunch, is that ok?"

She looked up "Yeah, that's fine, where will you be?"

"NML." I answered.

"How many arrows do you have?" She looked over my shoulder at the last four arrows. "I should probably let you take a handgun as well, just in case."

"Ok..." I said, sensing her over-protectivness.

Lunch was pretty basic, canned soup and left over biscuits from breakfast, and bitter iced tea. At least, it was bitter to me. Everyone else probably liked it.

I had helped Jaden and Carl bring up card tables and folding chairs from the basement to set up in the living room and dining room. There were four seats at the island in the kitchen that would keep us from setting up another.

I sat at the 'kids' table, which was two joined tables, nine chairs, and I, Jaden, Carl, Beth, Maggie and Glenn sat there. Though not all of us were still kids. I'd classify myself as a kid anyways, just because it gave me a thread of hope that my childhood wasn't complete trash.

Carl and Jaden hit it off pretty easily, my bother is ten with sandy blond hair and the same blue eyes I have, only I have some green in mine. Carl is eleven, he has the same dark brown hair his mom and dad have, he has blue eyes like Rick and I have yet to see him without the dark brown cowboy hat with golden band around it.

I was the first to leave the table, I sucked at conversations, even with people I knew. I just prefered being alone when I wanted to be, but didn't like being forced to be alone.

I grabbed my bow and wither of arrows off the back of my folding chair and slung them over my shoulder, grabbing my jacket off the peg by the door and heading out, sighing in relief when I was alone, the feeling only grew as I walked out of sight of the house, through the backyard until the dead lawn thinned into thicker grass, over hill after hill, home fading behind me.

It wasn't until I was about a mile and a half away from the property line that I realized I did not have the handgun my mother was supposed to give me, it made me feel weak knowing I had four arrows and a knife to defend myself with.

I glared at the ground for several minutes as I continued to walk across the field, the sunlight blinding me, and making the damp air muggy and hard to breathe. I looked over the never ending rows of hills, all bathed in the same golden colored grass that came to my knees. The air was still a little cold, I endured it and preservered onward.

I looked around myself, surrounded by utter nothingness... It was just poor excuses of hills and grass all around, the house no longer visable, nor was anything else, except for a few scraggly trees. Now I wish that I'd brought Jack along, it had been my intentions, I had forgot a lot of things, rather it was just nerves or stress, I managed to let them slip my mind.

I loaded my bow just in case, searching the sky for birds.

I walked over the next hill, instantly ducking and tightening my grip on the bow, peering through the grassy reeds, I saw the sandy figure moving through them, head down, fur a smooth golden brown, eyes wide and wary. It was the first I'd seen in weeks.

My thoughts were jumbled and breathing anxious. I leaned forward, lifting the bow ever so slowly, arrow right above it's head.

Let it fly....

I held my breath, reminding myself to be calm and to concentrate, but my mind went onto red alert, kill it before it gets away!

The arrow flew from my fingers, leaving them with a sting, the arrow arched right above the deer's head, landing with a light flutter in the grass a few yards away.

"Damn it!" I cussed under my breath and moved to load another, the deer's head flew up, nostrils flaring as it searched for danger, ready to split. I silently prayed it wouldn't run.

I paused when there was some movement from the corner of my eye, I busied myself with loading the next arrow, I looked up, glanced to the right for a second, and my heart stopped beating.

It moved smoothly through the grass, appraoching the deer quickly.

Anger boiled in me and I became territoral. "No!" I stood up and shot another arrow, this time at the approaching beast, a mountain lion.

I didn't even have time to think about how stupid... it was of me to take that action. My territorial anger swelled up and I blew my cover, the dark, dangerous eyes of the hunter flashed to me, a far more interesting prey...

Now I haven't seen one of those around in close to ten years, walkers and fires could have driven it from the mountains north of here.

The arrow collided with the lion's shoulder, it growled in pain, eyes adverting from the deer to me. It's teeth shining as it growled again, the deer looked up, saw me, and bounded off until it was no more than a tiny black speck in the distance.

Shit shit shit shit...

It's muscles coiled up like wire and it's back arched, it ducked it's head a little, chest almost touching the ground, I remembered that whenever you look something in the eye, it's a sign of agression, but it was nearly impossible not to look it in the eyes.

Only a few seconds between me, him and the arrow. I shot another one, aiming for it's head, but hit it's chest instead, it groaned in pain and still, it lunged at me, I reached back to grab another arrow, but I couldn't catch any feathers in my fingers, I counted quickly in my head how many arrows I'd shot already.

lucky four...

I wasted no time and grabbed the knife from my boot just as it prepared to pounce, a blow like that to my chest would break a few ribs for sure.

"Arrgh!" I screamed in frustration, the sharp pain in my ankle and my limited wrist movements made it difficult to properly execute these actions.

It hissed at me as it circles me, we eyed each other, I was aiming for a good spot to jab, when his paw swung out, I spun out of the way, but for a second everything paused, then flew into overdrive.

I felt it, like five knifes had been dragged down my back in unison. Followed by a killer sting and I couldn't find the strength to lift my head and fight back. The pain enveloped me more than anything. I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears in, and bit my lip until it bled to hold in the scream.

My back felt slick, I reached over my shoulder and pressed into the base of the pain, pulling away two blood coated finger tips.

I struggled for a breath and lifted my head, the lion was having a hard time as well, the two arrows stuck out of his skin at odd angles. I didn't feel bad about it though, maybe it was just because I had revenge to get now.

It was with heavy breaths that I could pull myself up from the ground enough to move into a crouch, the lion had collapsed a few feet away, our breathing equal, but only one of us would remain alive. I sucked in a deep breath and raised my fists above my head slowly, bringing them down hard, the knife between them.

I stand slowly, pulling the two arrows from the defeated mountain lion, then going and finding the other two missfires in the tall grass.

I looked down at the lion, I couldn't just leave it here, and I was in no shape to be dragging in back. My hands were numb from the cold air, so I put them in my pockets, feeling something there, I looked in confusion as I pulled it out.

It was the bungee cord bundle I'd picked up yesterday at the grocery store. I looked between the lion and the cord, then knelt slowly to ease pain and began to bundle it's feet together.
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Sweat rolled down my flushed cheeks as I trudged forward, it was close to five-thirty. I'd spent the last hour hauling my kill over hill after hill, and at last, I stand atop the tallest one, and can see the dim glow of the little solar lights surrounding the backyard, the lanterns hanging in the trees and the yard light. I sigh in relief and push onward.

My knuckles are white, wrapped around the purple cord the size of my thumb, flecked with bright green and black. It is over my shoulder, wearing a rash into the skin and tearing the scratches on my shoulder raw. My wrist screamed in protest with evey yank forward, I hobbled on one leg. The pain had eased a little over night, but was just as bad as when I first sprained it.

I clentch my teeth as I start off again, forward. Foot after foot, closer and closer to the house. Tracks of tears rolled over my cheeks, mixed with sweat from my forehead. I just needed to get back... Get home.

I'm probably going to get sick, I'm not wearing my jacket... instead it's tied around the shoulders of the lion to keep the skin there dragging on the ground from tearing and making it all pointless. Tainted meat wouldn't do us a whole lot of good.

I reach the fenceline five minutes later, carefully stepping over the sagging barbed wire and dragging my kill along with me. Through the last twenty five yards till I'm back into the backyard.

I blinked several times, the sun was close to setting, the same colors as last night, only a little less orange, more purple because it's later.

As I walked in, I walked right past the newbie's camp. The majority of them sat around the fire, that also included my dad, talking to Shane and Rick, and Carl talking to Jaden.

As I passed I heard startled gasps.

I paused, and the rope slipped from my stiff fingers. I wince, both in pain and in annoyance. I really didn't want to be noticed, and panicked over... My fingers were stiff as I stretched them out.

"Aries!" Dad got up from the ring and came towards me, inspecting the bloody back of my shirt in the fire light.

I was surrounded by many faces, but didn't comprehend any of them.

"Get her inside!"

"Maggie, get the first aid kit from the RV"

"We have supplies inside."

I felt like a zombie, too weak to really move more than necissary, couldn't bring myself to sit, I couldn't make myself talk, my mouth dry as cotton.

I was guided by many hands, people looking at me worriedly. Their concern wasn't necissary.

I sat on the kitchen island, facing the south window while the light overhead lit the whole gory mess. I can imagine that I'll have a few scars in the end.

I saw Hershel and Maggie, they were the doctors, in a way. Carol was there as well. Lori was keeping the kids occupied in the living room, she looked a little nauseous.

The door opened and Daryl and Merle came in, grinning vaugly to each other and talking in quiet voices, that stopped in their tracks at the sight of the opperaton scene.

"What's this?" Merle asked.

"Aries had an encounter." Hershel answered simply, he didn't know the whole story either.

"With a walker?" Daryl demanded, I didn't miss the movement of his hand flinching towards the knife in his belt.

"No..." I croaked out quietly with hardly any volume, I swallowed and cleared my throat but it didn't help at all.

"Mountain lion attack." I murmured.

I didn't miss Daryl and Merle's surprised faces, either. "How'd you escape?" Daryl demanded.

"I didn't really escape." I breathed, shrugging a little, and it hurt.

"Whadda you mean?" He prodded.

"New menu item." I answered simply, trying to minimize the amount of times I had to talk. The feeling of my voice rumbling in my chest was hurting my back.

He nodded slightly, expression slightly unbeliving, or maybe just unimpressed.

"If you don't believe me, go check it out, it's lying next to the fire."

They slipped out the front door as predicted, I just stared down at my lap and fiddled with my blood stained hands. Forming fists so tight in left bloody fingernail marks in my palm when they poured peroxide onto the cuts, I bit my lip until I tasted blood, glaring at the pale tan kitchen tiles, until the gauze was being applied with the bandaids.

"We're gonna need to cut the fabric off so it doesn't damage the wounds anymore." Hershel says thoughtfully, lifting the blood soaked edges of the black t-shirt, torn and drying into the cuts.

Beth handed him surgical scissors silently and he began to cut away at the fabric, careful not to catch the raw edges of flesh. The feeling of the metal in my wounds made me feel nausous and slightly lightheaded.

Several minutes later the door shut and Daryl and Merle emerged once again, this time not so smug... It was bizarre.

The looks Daryl gave me were odd, he looked weirded out, curious and evading. "How in the hell did you kill and drag that thing all the way back here by yourself?" He demanded. I didn't miss the glance he through out the front window, as if expecting to see someone who had helped me.

"Arrows and a knife to the head, he swung at me and I didn't move fast enough."

"Yeah, but why didn't you just let it go?" Daryl asked, his expression looked like he was trying to make sense of this new information.

"Two reasons" I said softly "Reason number one, our group needed the meat, all you can get," His expression became thoughtful, considerate. "Reason number two?..." I took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds "I was pissed at the lion because it scared off the deer I was aiming for."

"So you took it's life?" He said, his voice amused... I felt far from it, but forced a smile onto my lips anyways.

"Yeah, guess so."

"I'll go take care of it." He said after a moment, I guess he thought I was embarrassed or something, he jerked sharply of Merle's elbow to get him to look away and come, I guess it was more so Merle who had made me uncomfortable.

"There you go." Hershel said, checking the guaze to make sure it was tight enough. "You were very lucky that you didn't bleed out," He said with one of those fatherly voices that I could invision him using on his daughters.

"That bad?" I asked sheepishly, only vaugly realizing the lightheadedness was probably from bloodloss.

He nodded, his expression severe. "Yes, very. The cuts are deep and will require etra time healing, be careful and avoid exertion work or stretching, other than that you should be fine, but this will scar."

I nodded, I had suspected as much. "Thank you."

"Yep." He said as he picked up the bits of bandage wrapper and threw them away, then spraying the island down with bleach.

I hopped down slowly and the pain flared up all the way down my spine, I bit my lip until it faded, wincing the whole time. I walked slowly for the stairs, pausing at the bathroom door. Showering would be nice, not so much for the bandages. I hate showering and avoid it as much as possible, I always did. But when you've got so much foreign blood smeared all over you, you are a little more apt to washing up every now and again.

I wasn't in the mood to do anything, I just stood by my bedroom window, looking out at the little flickering campfire ring.

"Oh, sorry..."

I looked up, slightly alarmed. Daryl stood there, wearing the look of ashamed nervousness. Then I realized that I still wore that same apparal as I had during surgery. It made my cheeks redden and I tried to hide it.

"It's fine." I said.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked in "Just forgot this." He mumbled, grabbing his crossbow off the vanity by the door.

It wasn't really something he'd do to leave his crossbow, besides he had it this afternoon before I left. My intuition flickered.

"Why were you up here while I was gone?" I demanded, sounding rude, I softened my voice.

He paused mid-step out the door, his lips pressed into a thin line "I just took a snooze earlier."

"But isn't your camp set up?" I asked, not understanding enitirely.

He nodded and shrugged a little "It wasn't then."

I nodded slowly myself. "Ok, it's fine, sorry."

"No problem." He muttered. "How's the back?" he added conversationally a few awkward moments later.

"Oh... It's alright, I guess. Stings like a bitch, but other then that it's good."

I saw in his expression that he was restraining a laugh "Watch that mouth, lil' missy." He warned with a serious tone.

"Alright, Dixon."

He smiled a little bit, I can't be sure though because it faded so quickly "Night." He jogged down the stairs.

"Night." I whispered after him quietly when I'd heard the front door shut, turning to look back out at the view.

I hardly understood my actions today... I hardly understood myself. And as I stood there, contemplating it, I began to wonder if I was half the girl I'd woken up as a few days ago.