Just Gone

[2] Guttin' an' Skinnin'

Once I reached mine and Officer Shane's tent, I quickly glanced around, making sure no one was watching. When I was sure no one was I walked around the tent. Behind it, next to a tree was a pile of dirt and dead leaves. Not the best hiding place I knew that, but no one had found it or thought to look.

I crouched at the pile, moving the leaves away to reveal the only belongings I had. These were the only things I was able to grab from me and Daddy's car before Shane brought me with his group. Not that there was anything else.

I didn't get the chance to pack anything. Once Daddy decided we were going to Atlanta, I didn't get the time to even ask as we ran out the door. It was better that I didn't ask anyway. As always, I did what he said. We began our drive to Atlanta, but obviously, we never made it.

Beneath the leaves and dirt was a black leg sheath made of nylon, car keys, an orange pill bottle with round, large white pills in them, and an old pen. That was all I owned, that was all that was left in the car after Daddy left.

The leg wrap had six slots, in each slot was a seven inch long, stainless steel, handleless throwing knife with a lanyard hole at the end.

I wasn't good at throwing knives, but out of all the weapons Daddy taught me, the knives was what I took to the most. I had more fun with them, and because I enjoyed practicing with them, I got better with them fast. Though I had more fun with the knives, I was always best at the slingshot. It was the first weapon he ever taught me to use.

I slipped one of the knives out of a slot and reburied everything else. I wasn't sure what Officer Shane would do if he caught me with weapons and a bottle of pills. I didn't really know what the pills were, but Daddy left them in the glove box so I thought to grab them.

I hid the knife in my sleeve and returned to the Dixon's camp. When I got there, Daryl had already started on the one squirrel, he already gutted it and was beginning to skin, something I'd seen Daddy do many times. Merle hadn't even started yet, he was holding another squirrel, a hunting knife in his other hand, the third squirrel was on the ground in front of him

"Sit down, darlin'. Ol' Merle ain't got all day." He ordered, his smile from before gone.

I sat beside him, the smallest squirrel of the three in front of me. I pulled my knife out of my sleeve. Clutching it as I waited to be told what to do next.

Merle did a double take at the knife in my hand, scrunching his eyebrows together, "Hell, girlie, you can't skin with that."

My stomach droped at his words. I knew they were true. I attempted to keep my face blank as I responded. "It's all I got."

He let out a grunt of frustration, "Daryl, gimme your other knife."

Daryl looked up from his task, shaking his head, "Christ, Merle, I ain't givin' her no knife, ya seen her fuckin' hand."

"Gimme me the knife 'fore I beat your ass, boy."

Daryl cursed, dropping the half-skinned squirrel and hunting knife on his lap. He reached behind him and began rifling through a bag. Once he found what he was looking for, he gave it to Merle.

Merle traded knives with me. It was a bit smaller than his hunting knife, but not by much. I turned to the older man, only to see he had put his knife and squirrel on the ground. Instead, he held mine, inspecting it.

"Don't see knives like this every day, where you get it?"

"Daddy. He used ta teach me."

"Can ya throw it?"

"I can throw 'em, can't sink 'em too well. Not strong 'nough. That's why he don't teach me no more, got mad."

He switched his gaze to me, mouth in a straight line, "what else your daddy teach ya?"