Home is You ('Home Is' Book One - Daryl Dixon)

Chapter 37 - Should I Stay or Should I Go (The Clash)

NATE

🙄

YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!

Only THE  biggest cocknut on the face of this earth would ride around the countryside. On a bike that's making more noise than a thousand lawnmowers combined.

Anyone can hear it from miles away....for crying out loud!

It belongs to one of the group Hershel is with. Can't see the rider properly, he's too far away and obscured by a hatchback.

Wish he were closer....so I can bitch slap some sense into his thick skull.

He?

Well it stands to reason it's a man, eh? I mean, they're the ones with a dick and a brain. But not enough of a blood supply to run both at the same time.

I watched them go....not stopping them to say hello to Hershel.

Oh don't get me wrong, I still really  want to. But I doubt it'll be a good idea for either of us right now.

My head simply isn't in a good place for a reunion at the moment.

However, I did follow them for some time until they stopped again.

Staying well back and out of sight. Knowing they'll never hear the purr of my Jeep....over the cacophony of that monster bike.

Oh well, at least I know I'll be able to find them any time I want. All I have to do is listen for the tell-tale roar of that damned stupid thing.

By the time I parked and crept up on them to observe, they'd set up camp. It looks like they're hard off for supplies. A couple of the women seem very skinny indeed  😔

But I can hear some quiet laughter and lively chatter. So they must be quite close-knit as a group? I'm glad they're together, that Hershel is with them. Hopefully, his daughters are too?

Can't see any men other than Hershel and a young boy....teen? The others must've gone off, probably scavenging.

I jogged the two miles back to my car.

Planned it on my way back to town....I'm getting really good at that now. I gave a happy sigh of satisfaction, knowing it's the right thing to do.

Made a slight detour on the way though. Because there's something else I needed to get first.

Later that night I sat in Hatlins, writing on a notepad. Everything is already packed away safely in and on top of the vehicle.

Just have to wait until full dark....when they'll be asleep.

*

Just after three AM the following morning, I quietly stack the final one in the middle of the road.

I'm about two miles north of Hershel's campsite. Puffing from exertion but happy with what I've achieved. Retrieving the letter I've written, I place it on a specific crate.

Weigh it down with a rock then tuck a spare notepad and pen alongside it.

Now for the trickiest part.

Grabbing the sign, I creep closer to their camp. Being uber careful and not making a single sound.

Jorge called me his silent assassin....no....little assassin  🥷

My progress was temporarily halted by the memory and I bent over in agony....trying my hardest not to whimper.

It's happening more and more now. Know for certain that soon? It'll consume me whole.