America in catastrophe

Chapter 3

Without the moaners; the barn is the perfect vantage point to watch this group of invaders.

I avoid the lot, with their unbridled optimism for a new, better world. I avoid the one that seems to be undermining Rick Grimes in particular. He smells wrong even from a distance.

But the little offspring of rick isn't so bad, when he's not trying to grow up too fast.
He likes to sit in the pasture and catch crickets. Or simply feed the cattle.

The tracker however has become a growing thorn in my side. Lurking in the shadows analyzing my every breath.

Taz has taken to doubling back every time we cross the farm, pushing the tracker back every time he comes too close.

"Thought I'd find you up here. Dinners in a bit." Maggie sits down beside me in the loft window.

I nod silently. Sharpening my throwing knife along the wet stone.

"They aren't so bad. Glenn saved me shortly after they got here. Before he told them about the barn." Her voice fades out as she realizes she isn't making me like them anymore.

"Otis is dead because of them." I growl under my breath. That sickening fact I didn't learn until rick and the tracker forced me back.

They are also to blame for Hershel starting to drink again; and they had taken a stranger prisoner. They're beyond dangerous. They're criminal.

"Wash up before you come in. You smell musty." She crinkles her nose before climbing to her feet and striding away.

I sniff my sleeve, to discover she is correct. My clothes smell like wet firewood.

I sigh tossing the wet stone back into my rucksack. "Come on Taz."

I slide the barn doors shut behind me as I leave, headed for the quarry for a quick rinse.

Maggie is sitting up against the gate blocking my path.

She points to the house as I approach. "We have a shower for a reason." She reminds me harshly.

I sneer turning back to the house.

The shadows cast across the dirt drive by the setting sun do not hide my stalker. Perched beside the barn. I stomp towards him.

"If you don't start leavin' me alone I'm gonna make sure they never find your body." I snarl.

The tracker drops his homemade arrow rising to tower over me. "You best watch your mouth sunshine." He growls with equal venom. Hand clenched around his hunting knife.

My quick remark dies agony wails across the property.

I break into a sprint towards the pasture. The tracker in tow.

From the house bursts rick and his unfaithful companion. Carl and his mother. Hershel and Jimmy. Maggie is running up the drive with the Small Asian boy.

I bound over the fence with mastered ease. Taz slides under it while the others are slowed by it.

I find the older man in the bucket hat first. His guts in the teeth of a moaner.

My throwing knife thunks hollowly into the side of its head. My knees are grass stained as I slide to his side, pressing a hand over his wounds.

"Over here!" I shout hearing the grass rustle in frantic search.

The tracker stumbles to a stop behind me. Rick quickly shoves me aside taking my place holding in the man's guts.

I pull my knife from the moaners skull. Wiping it off on its shirt before stepping back with the others.