Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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Almost two hours after entering the camp, I watched Lori and Shane interact. I could be wrong, but it looked like something was going on between them. She brushed her hair behind her ears and smiled at him while he bit his lip and looked down at the ground, slowly bringing his gaze back up in a flirtatious manner. Whatever was going on wasn't any of my business, so I redirected my gaze to Carl, who rambled on about what he was learning in school and how he missed video games. Lori said he was such a ball of energy this morning; most mornings, he was silent and just drawing. He must be happy to see someone new around the camp.

"What was your favorite subject in school?" I asked him, fully giving him my attention. He paused, thinking hard about his favorite subject before another smile broke out again for the millionth time since meeting him.

"Social Studies." His blue eyes filled with excitement as he answered, "We were learning about the revolution!" I raised my eyebrows, happy to hear his answer.

A smile spread across my lips, and the familiar swirl of excitement bubbled in my stomach at the mention of anything history. I specialize in American history but am well-versed in much of global history. So the aspect of gaining a student made my heart soar. "If you ever want, I can teach you some here and there."

"That'd be so cool!" He exclaimed with a vigorous nod. I nodded and smiled, a surge of pride swirling within me. I always knew my major and degree were cool, and I was just happy to hear that someone else found it just as awesome as I did.

"Carl, why don't we let June go down to the water? Let herself talk to other people here and help out around camp a little?" Lori interjected, her hand brushing back Carl's brown hair. He frowned, sighing heavily with his sad eyes trained on me. I stood up slowly, made eye contact, and smiled at him.

"Don't worry." I smiled, "I'll be back, and you can tell me what you learned about the revolution. Sound good?" He perked up, his head nodding rapidly. I turned on my heel and walked towards Shane, my smile disappearing and my hand flying to the knife safely nestled away on my hip. He looked at me, a half-smile on his lips, before turning and leading me into the woods. We walked briefly in silence, my eyes darting around the woods and my ears straining to hear any growls or movement.

"You can relax." Shane muttered, "We ain't seen a walker in some time."

"When you've been on the road as long as I have, you learn that nowhere is safe." I said, "Not for long." Shane let out a chuckle, his head shaking in disbelief.

"Damn, girl." He laughed, "You've seen some shit?"

"You can say that," I muttered, my eyes still darting around us. Shane paused abruptly, making me crash into him and stumble back. I muttered a quick sorry and took the view in. The water was crystal clear and the prettiest shade of blue, the light shimmering off the water. The rock wall was high, towering over the water at least over 100 feet.

"So, you can come here to wash clothes, fish, and get water to bathe." He said, making me snap out of my memorized daze. "I suggest the bath." I let out a small chuckle, running my hands through my rough, dirty hair.

"You trying to say I stink or something?" I laughed. Shane scrunched his nose, making a face, and nodded, a laugh coming from the both of us. "Noted. So, I just get a bucket, or can I dive in?" Shane had a ghost of a smile on his lips, that same stare he flashed at Lori earlier being repeated on me. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was getting some funny ideas. My fingers twitched toward my knife, and my stomach suddenly dropped and hit the ground.

"Whichever you want." He whispered, his voice dropping to a reach a tone I've only heard when guys tried to pick me up at bars, "If you want, I can patrol the area. Make sure no one bothers you." My fingers touched the tip of my knife handle, the smooth wooden handle comforting me. The water looked so inviting, but I didn't know if I felt comfortable with Shane watching – or patrolling, as he put it – as I bathed. I feverously shook my head, my eyes meeting his again.