—Last night
The fire had burned down to a low, hissing bed of coals. Sparks drifted, then died in the damp air.
Clementine perched on the swing, rocking in a steady rhythm to keep the mosquitoes off her legs, her mind clear of the thought of almost being caught in Wesker's room.
Her focus shifted to the pistol Wesker had given her. She ran the slide, listened for the clean snap, and checked for reassembly flaws. When is he going to trust me with bullets? He already gave them to Alicia—But soon the swing's rhythm and her chain of thought broke as Lilly's voice tore the silent night.
"I'm going to the farm first thing in the morning," Lilly said, like she'd been sitting on those words for hours.
Madison and Alicia both choked on the marshmallow they were swallowing.
"What?" Carley straightened in her chair. The orange glow painted half of Lilly's face, the other half lost in shadow.
"I said I'm going to the farm in the morning."
"Are you nuts?" Carley snapped, not loudly, just sharply.
Lilly didn't even look over. She stood and headed for the house. The door creaked, then snapped shut behind her.
The four left by the fire stared into the embers. Alicia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Madison leaned forward, elbows on her knees, listening to the night as if it might explain what just happened.
Clementine's focus returned to the gun, shaking her head, I'd have done the same, she thought.
1:00 AM
Lilly and Carley took watch by the farmhouse fence line, where the field met the dark. The generator's hum was a steady pulse in the distance. The wind pushed through the grass in slow waves.
"Are you serious about going to the farm?" Carley asked, eyes on the tree line, not on Lilly.
"Yes." No hesitation. Lilly adjusted the sling on her shoulder, gaze sweeping the rows of corn. The word landed like a hammer on a nail.
"Why?"
Silence bled into the sound of wire gently ticking against the fence posts. Somewhere far off, a nightbird trilled once and went quiet.
Finally, a breath, a small reluctant sigh of surrender, escaped Lilly's lips.
"I don't want that witch clinging to him," Lilly muttered, low enough that dark could have swallowed it. "I'm not–" she cut herself, jaw tight.
Carley's mouth twitched, and a short involuntary huff broke free from her.
"What?" Lilly said, not looking over, her cheeks slightly flushed, "Don't tell me you aren't thinking the same thing." She looked away.
"Honestly, I'm not," Carley replied. Lilly turned to her with questioning eyes.
"Did you really think he was going to stop at us?" Carley asked, slightly surprised at her naivety, "Why do you think it took me so long to accept him?" Carley said.
Lilly stayed silent for a moment longer before she spoke, "I don't care, I'm going."
"Lilly," Carley turned to her, "I get it, but he's put you in charge here when he's not around, and if you leave and storm out, that'll just make him irritated with you, not her."
Lilly shifted in her chair, fingers drumming once on the stock of her rifle. "I'm not the only one keeping this place upright. He left both of us in charge. If only I go, then there won't be—"
"Yeah," Carley's tone was even, "He left both of us here. If you wanna get on his nerves, go on." Carley sighed, not seeing a way out of this.
Lilly exhaled, contemplating Carley's points. A frown appeared on her face, "So what. I sit around here and pretend it's whatever, while she wraps herself around him?"
Silence followed, but only for a brief moment.
"What if you sent someone else?" Carley said.
"Who?"
"Not Clem," they said together. That got the ghost of a smile from both of them.
"Madison's still green outside the fence," Carley went on. "So she's out."
"That leaves Alicia," Lilly muttered.
She also doesn't have a history with him, after what he did to her with Nick and her dad…
—Present
The old windmill creaked lazily in the breeze, its shadow cutting long, slow arcs over the grass. I stood with Alicia in its shade, far enough from the others that our voices wouldn't carry, but not so far they'd stop glancing over.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, voice flat enough to sting. "I told you to stay at the dairy."
Alicia's eyes dropped to the ground. "I-I'm sorry." Her fingers found the seam of her jeans and worried it, a nervous habit picked up from Clem.
From the corner of my eye, I watched the group resume their tasks, pretending not to watch us while very obviously watching us.
"Was it Lilly?" I said.
Alicia nodded, small and reluctant. "She wanted to come herself. Carley talked her down. So she… sent me." Her thumb dug into her thigh, then stopped when she caught me noticing.
"Why?" I asked.
Alicia's breath caught. She lifted her chin, then lowered it again. "To look after you…"
*-*
I stared at her, and she looked away, not believing her own words.
Sigh~
I exhaled. I wasn't going to get an answer from her, so I'll get it from Lilly.
Across the yard, Glenn was helping Dale draw water from the well into an old galvanized trough before siphoning it down into the buried tank. The rope rasped, the pulley squealed, the bucket rose, sloshing. Glenn's rhythm was steady until he glanced toward the mill and saw Alicia again.
His hands faltered. The bucket fell, and the moving rope burned his hand, waking him from his daydream.
Ouch~
"Careful, kid," Dale said.
"Yeah—yeah, sorry," Glenn muttered, grabbing for the rope again.
"You think Wekser and her are…" Glenn muttered.
Dale finally looked at him, "Hmm?". Glenn shook his head before returning his focus to the water.
Under the windmill's shadow, I folded my arms and let the silence stretch until Alicia shifted her weight uncomfortably.
"Look, I'm sorry, ok, I don't know what else I can do to fix this, but you left her in charge and all I did was listen to her." She said, overexplaining, but she was right; it was a mistake on my part. There shouldn't be anyone in charge other than me.
I leaned against the rusted metal frame of the mill, "And how did you convince Madison of this?"
Her eyes flicked away, squinting with guilt. "...I didn't."
The words hung in the air for longer than they should've.
Madison and Alicia had reconciled after what her mother did to Nick, essentially making him an addict, but forgiveness is one thing; forgetting, on the other hand. Nick really did a number on both of them… like I intended.
I pushed off the frame and stepped closer, unfolding my arms. My hand rose to her head, fingers brushing through her hair. "Alright. You stay within sight. You don't leave this farm without me. If someone asks you something, you don't answer; you tell them to ask me. Understood?"
Alicia nodded quickly, "Yes."
***
Lori and Rick stood on the left side of the bed, still as held breath. Hershel's stethoscope hung at his neck, his resting lightly on Carl's forehead as he checked the boy's pulse with practiced fingers.
"The fever's gone down," Hershel muttered.
As if he heard the words, Carl's eyes fluttered. Lori leaned in at once, on hand cupping his cheek, thumb gently along clammy skin. Rick's shoulders sagged; he almost dropped to his knees as a grateful breath broke out of him, ragged and relieved.
Carl blinked through the haze, voice a dry whisper. "Sophia… is she okay?"
Lori looked up at Rick, then back to her son, a small, trembling smile lifting the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, baby. She's fine."
Carl's lips tugged into a faint smile. "I found her…" his voice low, tired, "Yes, you did," Rick said, kneeling beside Lori.
"Rest now, okay," Lori said, brushing his hair back.
"Okay," Carl's words faded, his eyes drifting between sleep and wakefulness.
Hershel listened for a beat, eyes fixed on Carl's chest rising slow and steady.
He gave both of them a reassuring nod, then lifted the stethoscope and stepped quietly toward the door.
Outside, the house had found a fragile morning rhythm. In the kitchen, Maggie, Beth, and Shawn set up the table with the help of the Harrison sisters, while Carol stood on the side, her arms wrapped around Sophia's shoulder, keeping the girl by her side.
Hershel stood in the doorway for a moment, still and cautious of the group. Strangers under his roof had a way of becoming a heartbreak if he wasn't careful.
Maggie was on her feet before he could turn away, "Dad?" She rounded the table, eyes searching his face. "Is he okay?"
Hershel met her gaze, the lines around his eyes softening. "He's holding steady," he said, voice low but sure. "Fever's down. He woke for a moment, asking about the little girl."
Andrea and Amy exchanged a look, their shoulders relaxed as they set the dishes on the table. Carol's eyes flicked to Sophia, who looked toward Carl's room. Shawn let out a long, unshaken breath, as though some enormous weight had finally slipped off his back.
"Thank God," the words rippled through the room, whispered almost in unison, quiet and reverent.
.
.
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****
Read +3 or +7 chapters ahead on my Pat*eon
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