Just Gone

[5] Mini Merle

I was sitting on the ground against the side of the RV, half asleep with my arms hugging my knees while my head rested on them, when a sudden impact practically knocked me over.

"Toby. Git up, girlie. Ain't got all day."

My hands were on the ground to stop me from falling all the way, I glanced up at Merle, realizing he had kicked my side.

"Hurry up, or we're leavin without ya."

"Leavin'?" I asked, my head foggy from sleep. One glance up told me it was dawn, I wondered how long I had been sitting there, or if I had even really been asleep. It felt like I had only sat down a couple minutes ago.

"Goin' huntin'. Git your scrawny ass up, ain't waitin' any longer."

I nodded, finally putting together what was going on. I must've stood up a little too fast because everything spun around me for a brief moment.

"Go an' git your knives."

I nodded, feeling a mix of both excitement and anxiety about Merle helping me with knife throwing. Instead of just taking one knife, I took the whole leg wrap and strapped it around my left thigh, adjusting it until I was sure it wouldn't fall off. Then I snuck into the tent, careful not to wake Shane, took my slingshot from under my pillow, and stuck it in my waistband.

When I got back to Merle, his brother was with him. "Ready." I said.

Daryl glanced down at me, then to his brother, "your bringin' the kid? What the hell for?"

Merle shrugged, walking away, "said I would."

"Somethin's broke in your head, I swear." Daryl followed him, holding his crossbow over his shoulder. We walked through their small camp and as we did, Merle grabbed a rifle that was leaning against the tent. I trailed behind them quietly for a while, staying close but not too close.

"Go check the snares that way, see what else you can find. I'll check the ones this way, then I'm gonna show the girl how ta throw 'er knives."

Daryl glanced at me and shook his head, walking away, "I ain't even gonna ask."

Merle and Daryl split off into two different directions. Merle walked pretty fast, I was practically jogging to keep up with him. A few minutes later we came across one of his snares, but it hadn't caught anything.

"Merle?" I got up the courage to ask. He grunted in response as he continued walking, "how many snares you got?"

"Got 'bout six down this way." The next snare we got to had caught a squirrel. He freed it from the trap and handed it to me. I held it by the tail and watched as he reset the trap. "Ya daddy teach ya 'bout snares?"

I nodded, "after 'e taught me he always made me set 'em an' get whatever it caught. Don't think I did it right though, they didn't always catch anythin'. Daddy got mad lots."

"You can get the next one then," he said when he finished. As we began walking again he pulled a cigarette pack out of his vest pocket and lit one. I watched the cigarette as he smoked it, wondering why people liked it so much. It didn't smell good, at least not to me. He reached his hand out for the squirrel I held and I gave it to him.

With his free hand, he took the cigarette from his lips, "what?"

I shrugged, looking away. He stopped walking and reached the cigarette toward me.

"Here," he said. "You wanna try it, right?"

I shook my head, "Daddy says I'm not allowed to touch his smokes."

"This ain't your daddy's, is it?" He gave his crooked smile.

He's right. Hesitantly, I reached for the cigarette and took it. I adjusted my hold on it so it stuck between my index and middle finger, like I had seen many others do.