I wake up the next morning just as the sun is rising. The light seems through the small windows at the top of the jail walls. I sit up and remove my sweat shirt. My used to be white tank top is splattered with blood from the zombies. I slip the tank top over my head so I am in my light gray, skin tight, tank top, that I had on under my white one. The air is warm, but not hot. It feels nice.
I stand up and stretch my back, popping it in many places. I walk to my door and peek my head out. I don't see anyone else so it must be early. I walk back over to my bed and slip my boots on. I walk out of my small room and walk down the hall. I tip toe, being careful not to wake anyone. As I round the corner I hear voices.
"Are you sure she wasn't bit?" a man's voice asks.
"I didn't check, but I know what I saw. She wasn't bit!" I hear Rick say.
"You cant be sure! You haven't checked and you don't act like you're going to. I think you're afraid that she will be bit and you don't want her to," an unfamiliar voice growls.
"Now lets not argue over it. I'll check her," I hear Hershel's calm voice reason with them.
The three of them walk in opposite directions. I hear one come toward me and I run back toward my cell. I don't want them to know I was eavesdropping. I reach my cell and jump on my bed. I throw my shoes off and lay back. A moment later there is a knock on my door. I look up and see Hershel standing there. I learned yesterday that he has to use crutches because he to cut off his leg because of a zombie bite. He smiles sweetly and steps in.
"Now I don't think you were bit, but we have to make sure," he explains.
"I wasn't, but I'll show you."
I lift up my shirt to just below my bra and turn around so he can examine my back. I sit down and pull my pant legs up to my thighs. He nods his head and says, "Okay... you're good."
"Yeah I know. By the way. Call me Izzy. I don't like the name Isabella."
"I like that. Izzy," he nods his head. "How would you like to work out in the field today and do a little farming?"
"Sure. It sounds relaxing," I admit.
"Well sure it is. Here I'll give you a minute to wake up and I'll come and get you in a minute."
I know why he is giving me a minute. He has to tell Rick and the other man that I haven't been bit. A minute later I hear someone arrive at my room. I assume its Hershel, but when I look up I see Carl. I smile. "Hey."
"Hey. So what are you planning on doing today? I saw Hershel over here a minute ago."
"I'm gonna help farm," I tell him.
"I'm gonna be going on a hunting trip later. Wanna come?" he asks excitedly.
"Sure. Hunting and farming. I'm gonna have a busy day."
"Don't worry you'll have plenty of people to help you. Is your foot feeling better?"
"Oh. Yeah I had completely forgot about it."
"That's good. I'm probably going to help out with farming today. I have nothing better to do," he smirks.
"You don't have to help me," I shake my head. "You guys have helped me enough already."
"That's what people are supposed to do. They're supposed to help each other. Not enough people do that anymore."
"I think you're right," I agree.
"Of course I'm right," he teases.
Hershel appears in my doorway. "Well as long as your both here. I could use the help. Lets go."
He walks away and me and Carl follow him. When we are outside I can feel the blazing sun against my tan skin. I tuck my blonde hair behind my ears and squint my blue eyes against the sun. Carl squints his pale blue eyes too, but his hat blocks the worst of it. We walk out to the field and I see that it is close to the fence. I also see that there is 2 fences and that there is a gap of about 20 feet where the group members are stabbing zombies through the fence. We stop in the middle of 2 rows. The rows consist of tons of tomato bushes.
"Okay so you 2 start picking tomatoes and I'm going to go find some others to help," Hershel says and walks away.
I pick a tomato and set it beside me. "Here set them in this bucket," Carl sets a bucket in between us and I set my tomato in the bucket. I continue picking them and setting them in the bucket. "Have you ever had to work on a farm?" he asks.
"When I was little. My grandparents used to own a small farm. I mean they had a decent garden and some farm animals, but it wasn't very spectacular," I shrug.
"When we found Hershel's farm at the beginning of all this we helped out with the animals. It took him awhile to trust us and I think us helping him made it easier for him. I was younger then, but that was the first time I had ever worked on a farm," he explains.
"Hershel seems like a nice man," I comment.
"Have you lost a lot of people?"
"Yeah, but haven't we all."
"I know I have. But I mean anyone important. Not including your mom," I add.
"A couple. My dad's friend and one of my friends. It was Carol's daughter."
"Wow. I guess I lost all my friends too. I haven't seen any of them since before the apocollypse."
"We can take a break. The buckets full."
I sit down and wipe the sweat off my forehead. "I'm gonna have to cut my hair. Its too long for this weather," I shake my head. My hair comes down to the middle of my back. Bleached by the hot sun.
"Just wear it up," he suggests.
"I don't have a pony tail," I point out.
"I'm sure someone has one you can use."
"Well I don't really want to go around asking people for pony tails," I roll my eyes.
"I'll ask Beth. She put her hair up a lot."
"Hey its the least I could do after you gave me some ravioli," he jokes. I roll my eyes and let out a light laugh.
"Man ravioli can get you a lot around here. A pony tail. Wow!" I say sarcastically.
"Yep," we both laugh. I hear the familiar sound of Hershel's crutches coming toward us. I look up at him and see that he is smiling.
"You 2 having fun?"
"Yes. We filled up the bucket," Carl says before I have the chance.
"Well you 2 can go. Rick is getting ready to go hunting. He asked if you guys wanted to come."
"Where is he?" Carl asks.
"Waiting by the gate to leave," he points to gate that we came in from yesterday. I see Rick and Deryl waiting by the fence.
Me and Carl walk over to Rick and Deryl. Then I remember I don't have my weapons. "What about my weapons? I have to have my weapons," I insist.
"I've got them," Rick hands over my pistol and sword. I only have 6 bullets. The other 14 are in my book bag. "Are you guys ready?"
"Then lets go."
I follow Rick, Deryl, and Carl across the big field that leads to woods. This is my rescue group. When we reach the woods I am immedietly on guard. I slide my pistol in my back pocket and slide my sword out of its holder on my back. I hold it at my side as I walk. I hear groans up ahead, but I cant see any walkers. It doesn't sound like more than 3. When we round the corner I see 5 zombies bent over a person. They look up at the sound of our foot steps. They stand up and walk toward us slowly. Rick raises his gun, but Deryl pushes his gun down with his hand. He shakes his head and holds a finger to lip. Deryl wears a vest with angels wings on the back, ripped baggy jeans, and black boots. His hair is glued down to his forehead by sweat. Rick's beard is wet with sweat and I see gray hairs popping out in multiple places. Deryl raises his cross bow and shoots a girl in the face. He cocks it again and shoots another one. They are getting close. I see a few more come out of the trees and I start to panic. I raise my sword and walk forward. I have to stop them. I cut one of their heads in half and another one's head completely off. More come out of the trees. There's at least 10 now. Where are they all coming from? Carl steps forward and so does Rick. They pull out their knifes and start stabbing. Still more come out from the trees. The dead body. That's what it is.
I see one has Carl pinned down and Rick and Deryl are fighting off their own. This zombie is big. Bigger than the one that tackled me. "CARL!" I scream. I run toward him and kick the zombie off of him. "Watch out!" He rolls over and I stab the zombie in the head. I grab his hand and pull him up. "Are you okay?" I demand.
"Yeah," he says quietly.
I run back over to help Rick and Deryl, but the zombies are all dead. They are both covered in zombie blood. Rick's face is horrified. Like he just killed the president. I look around, but I don't see anything out of the ordinary. "What?"
"Its someone I used to know."
"Are you okay?" Carl asks.
"Yeah. Lets just get back to camp."
With that we start the long back to the prison and I still don't know who it was he killed.