Sneaky

Chapter 109

Well isn't this a cheery bunch.

I glanced at my friends around the fire. Every one of them looking bitter or exhausted or both, or even worse but at least I don't see anyone who looks like they're shutting down.

Not even Carl, or Beth and Randall.

Despite everything we lost, and how thin the thread is, everyone's still keeping it together. That's much better than the last two times we lost our camp, our supplies, our hope, and had eviscerating casualties.

"We're not safe with him. Keepin' somethin like that from us." Carol whispered harshly at us.

I gave her a look, not really feeling up to saying 'he has his reasons' right now but she should know better than this. What's gotten into her?

"Why do you need him, he's just gonna pull you down." Carol whispered bitterly, looking between us.

"Nah, Rick's done alright by me." Daryl shook his head, dismissing Carol's statement and I nodded in agreement.

He might be a little off kilter at the moment, but Rick's never intentionally tried to hurt us.

"You're his henchmen." She looked between the two of us. "And I'm a burden." That sounds like a you problem. There are things you can do to change that if you really want, but it sounds more like you're just takin' the piss; looking for someone or something to blame.

"You deserve better." Carol looked between us, but mostly at Daryl; taking glances at what he's doing to the fire.

Daryl glanced at me and we shared a look.

"What do you want?" Daryl

"A man of honor" That sounds like a little girl waiting for a knight in shining armor to come save her.

"Rick has honor." Daryl defended him and honestly I can't help but agree.

Rick is many things and I don't know much about his life before this, but dishonorable is the last thing I'd associate with him.

Even at his worst moments all I can see is frustration and/or pain. Trying to use his head and not make a rash decision even if he's working with next to nothing and is so fried he belongs on the McDonald's menu.

"I think we should take our chances." Maggie looked at Glenn.

"Don't be foolish." Hershel interjected beside her, in the tired worn voice you'd expect to hear of an old war veteran. The kind of voice someone only gets from seeing too much, and frankly, I think we all probably have that voice by now.

I know, that when I look around this circle, at the eyes of my friends around me... everyone's — even Carl's — eyes look older than their faces.

Everything we've been through, it's almost funny to know this is exactly what it's like being at war. In a military unit, behind enemy lines. Only ours is constant. Never quite sure if we're safe enough to rest and get thrust into absolutely crazy situations but don't have any choice.

No back up, all on our own out here. Never quite sure which breath will be your last but you do everything in your power to make sure it isn't the one you're taking right now.

"There's no food," Hershel started. Beth, sitting in front of her father, looked at the few backpacks of supplies we do have. "no fuel," Hershel continued, "and no ammo."

Leaves rustled like someone had thrown a stone across the forest floor outside the encasing of our henge and it was like an air raid siren had gone off.