salvation → g. rhee

30 days without an accident

When thirty days passed without an accident, they felt confident declaring the prison a relatively safe base.

Rick strode from the prison, the cage that protected the doorway now lined with flowering plants, and made his way to the rain barrel. He cupped his hands in the cool water and splashed it over his face with a sigh, before pulling open the gate and slipping through it.

He walked down the car path, a pair of work gloves and an old mp3 player in his back pocket. The music that coursed through the earbuds drowned out the drone of the walkers that lined the fence as he hoed their crops. The mare standing calmly in the homemade paddock a few yards away swished her tail at the flies that milled about. He pulled an earbud out and looked to the walkers behind him, staring at one that appeared blinded, crying crimson tears.

"You didn't wake me up."

Rick looked up to see Carl walking towards him, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Cause I knew you were up all night reading comics with a flashlight," Rick retorted.

"Blame Aubrey, she got me them," Carl smiled, joining his father at the fence of the pig pen.

The mother pig was laying in the mud, cooled by the shade, with her eyes closed.

"What's up with Violet?"

"Carl, I told you not to name them," Rick sighed. "They're not piglets anymore. They're food."

"I just thought, you know, until..." Carl trailed off at Rick's look. "Okay."

"I don't know what's going on with her. Could be sick, could be nothing," Rick said, looking away from Carl. He tried clicking his tongue at the animal, getting nothing in response.

"Feel better... Violet," he said, adding her name almost awkwardly. Carl smiled up at him.

"C'mon, let's get to it," Rick said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Glenn laid awake as Aubrey continued to sleep peacefully against his shoulder. He rolled his head against hers momentarily, before he finally sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face and looked over his shoulder at her.

"I don't think you should go today."

Aubrey exhaled, her eyes fluttering open. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"We have the suits."

"Yeah, but you don't have to go. You shouldn't," he said quietly.

"You're right, I don't have to. I want to," Aubrey replied.

She sat up behind him and brushed her fingers through his hair gently, leaving hers touseled from sleep.

"You know everything's gonna work out, right? Right?"

"Right," Glenn replied, shifting his body to press his lips to hers. "But you're staying, okay?"

"Incorrect," Aubrey replied, getting out of bed.

Glenn let out an exaggerated sigh and leaned back, watching her pull her jeans up her long legs and button them under her navel. Her ribs momentarily popped through her skin as she pulled a shirt over her head. With a handgun strapped to her thigh and her knife sheathed at her hip, Glenn knew she was ready.

"I'll see you outside," she said, holding his chin in her hand and tilting his head up for a kiss. Glenn hummed his response as she walked out, pulling her hair up into a ponytail as she went.

As Daryl sauntered into the cooking station in the middle of the courtyard, many people greeted him.

"Morning, Daryl."