NATE
Didn't turn around, but I heard his sharp intake of breath.
Can see his reflection in the mirror wall behind the bottles. He hasn't even reached for his gun. Simply glanced at my back, took another sip then stared down again at the glass in his hands.
Grabbing the bottle of Vodka and a shot glass, I spun around. Walked out from behind the bar to stand next to him.
"Mind if I sit down please, Sir? I've had a bit of a day and my feet are killing me" Not waiting for a reply I pulled out a bar stool.
Levered my butt onto it before planting my boots on the foot rail of the bar. Plonking the glass on the placemat, I unscrewed the lid from the bottle and poured myself a shot.
Lifting the glass, I turned towards him.
"Cheers!"
He twisted his head to peer at me through faded blue eyes. Eyes that are holding more than a hint of shock and sadness.
"Cheers" He responded eventually, clinking his glass to mine.
"Name's Nate Moriarty, Sir. You are....?"
"Hershel....Hershel Greene" His voice rumbled deeply, sweetly Southern.
The name rang a bell and I remembered the sign just after the big pile-up on the highway. A sign that said 'Greene'. It looked like a lovely huge farm and I'd been sorely tempted to drive on in and check it out.
"Very pleased to meet you, Mr Greene" I replied politely.
"Just....Hershel."
He looked at me properly now and noticed my struggle. I've been bought up to always call older people Mr or Mrs.
"Alright....thank you ummmm....Hershel. Today is my twentieth birthday. Now I know I'm under the legal drinking age here in Georgia, but I figured I owe myself a treat. So don't tell anyone....Ok?"
I whispered the last bit confidentially. Peeking furtively around us as if the bar is full of people and we can be overheard. He gave a small smile at that.
"Happy birthday, young lady."
"Thank you" I smiled back at him then became serious.
"Hershel....you don't look like you're here celebrating though?" Still no response.
"Can I do anything to help? Anything at all....even just listen. I've been told I'm kinda good at that. Though I'm quite an expert at talking too" I warned.
Quietly sat there with him, silently taking little sips from my glass and grimacing. He noticed and plucked it from my fingers, tipping the contents onto the floor. Got his bottle and poured me a decent slug.
Another sip. Mmmm much better....semi-sweet and smoky to boot.
Me likeeee 😁
Hershel gave himself a small nod and made the decision to talk.
"My wife and son....they died" His voice seems strangely devoid of emotion.
"Hershel....I'm so sorry....so very sorry " I murmured sadly.
"No need for your sympathy, young lady. They died a long time ago only I didn't know it. Today....today they died again."
"I'm a fool....an old stupid fool!" His voice rose.
"My wife, son....I kept them in my barn with others who were sick. I thought they'd get better, that there'll be a cure....a miracle."
"But when that Shane went and shot them? They kept on coming. And I knew....I knew there's no hope anymore. When that little lost girl came out of the barn too? I saw the looks on their faces....no hope. They knew it as well."
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Home is You ('Home Is' Book One - Daryl Dixon)
FanfictionSemi-mature. Completed. Nate's a teenage Aussie tomboy. Who grew up in a country town with 4 big brothers and parents who adore her as much as she does them. She's strong, resourceful, smart and a bit of a smart-ass. But still just a girl. One who f...
