Chapter 16: Days at the Camp
Chirp chirp—
The camp sat close to the woods, where birds began their morning songs at the crack of dawn.
Caesar opened his eyes, watching tree shadows sway across the tent canvas as the drowsiness gradually faded from his gaze.
He pulled open the tent flap and immediately spotted Carol.
She was bent over, picking up clothes Merle had carelessly tossed around the night before.
Noticing Caesar's gaze, Carol's eyes flickered as she instinctively covered the red swelling on her face. With downcast eyes, she explained.
"I... I'm here to collect dirty laundry. The women at camp wash clothes down by the lake."
"Do you have any dirty clothes?"
Caesar felt no embarrassment. He turned to grab yesterday's discarded shirt and handed it to Carol. "Thanks."
Carol looked at Caesar with surprise, then said meekly, "You're... you're welcome."
"What's wrong?" Caesar caught her confusion.
Carol smiled faintly. "At camp, people rarely say thank you to us."
After a brief farewell, Carol left the tent area.
Merle and Daryl's tent sat positioned deeper toward the tree line, where only a vague view of the bustling camp remained visible.
"So, Merle, what do you think of that woman?"
Caesar watched Carol's retreating figure and suddenly spoke.
"Hmm, Carol? Apocalypse cannon fodder. Dregs of the era. Won't be long before she becomes a walker on the roadside. Hell, she'll probably take her daughter with her when she goes."
Merle rolled over from his side-lying position, his eyes fully alert—clearly he'd been awake the whole time.
After all, he was a hunter. Even while sleeping, he maintained a certain level of vigilance. Someone approaching with that much noise? No way he'd miss it.
Caesar raised an eyebrow and glanced at Merle. "I see it completely opposite. She'll become a strong warrior. Might even outlive you."
Merle's face twisted into a mocking expression, scoffing at the notion.
After a quick wash-up, Caesar walked into camp.
Most people were busy with various tasks. Dale, Jim, and Glenn stood in front of the old RV, discussing repairs.
Andrea, Jacqui, Amy, and others were loading clothes into a pickup truck bed.
Merle swaggered over to the food distribution area and grabbed two plates, bringing them back.
"You do centralized food supply here?" Caesar accepted the plate, using his fork to push the food around.
All canned goods and processed foods, probably scavenged from outside.
Merle stuffed a large chunk of lunch meat into his mouth, chewing vigorously as he nodded. He said indistinctly, "Camp survives by scrounging whatever we can find out there. Nobody's got the mind to grow anything, and there's no fresh meat."
"Only me and Daryl go hunting occasionally for some. I wanted to trade that meat for guns or something, but my brother, tsk tsk tsk."
"Complete opposite of me. Insists on giving it away for free."
When Merle talked about Daryl, he became quite chatty, though his words were mostly complaints and dissatisfaction.
Caesar listened as Merle alternated between discussing the camp situation and complaining about Daryl.
He also exchanged greetings with Rip and the others who'd finished breakfast.
At that moment, Rick emerged wearing a white short-sleeve shirt. His skin looked pale and clean—an unhealthy, sickly white.
Caesar greeted him first. "Morning, Rick."
"Morning." Rick hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"I wanted to discuss something with you."
Caesar had just finished breakfast and wiped his mouth. Merle, reading the room, took the plate and left.
"Go ahead."
"Those guns in the bags—could you leave some for the camp?"
Rick looked directly at Caesar as he spoke.
Caesar's lips curved into a slight smile. He raised his eyes toward Lori, who was watching them from a distance.
The instant Lori noticed Caesar looking her way, she quickly turned and retreated into her tent.
Caesar understood immediately. "Rick, that's not going to work."
"Our deal was: we save you, the guns are ours, your life is yours."
Caesar spoke very seriously, his expression growing increasingly grave.
Rick knew he was in the wrong and lowered his head.
Although Rick had never actually agreed to this transaction, when someone saves you and takes their deserved compensation, there's nothing wrong with that.
He couldn't exactly wait until after they'd rescued him, then stand up and say, "Well, I never asked you to save me."
Rick understood—this was an attempt to appeal to Caesar's sympathy.
Caesar's stern refusal made Rick realize there would be no negotiation on this matter.
Head hanging, Rick slowly walked back to his tent.
Caesar watched Rick fall into Lori's embrace and shook his head subtly.
This woman was nothing but trouble.
Before long, a sharp, piercing scream erupted from the camp.
The voice belonged to a child. Several kids started crying out, and the camp instantly went on alert.
The men immediately grabbed whatever weapons were at hand and rushed toward the source.
Rick and Shane especially—they recognized Carl's voice in that first scream.
Caesar moved faster, overtaking both Rick and Shane.
Midway through his run, Caesar saw Carl, Sophia, and several other children running back. Tears streaked their faces, panic written across their features.
Caesar didn't stop to comfort them. "Get back to camp, now!"
After those brief words, Caesar sprinted to the scene.
He pushed through the underbrush. A deer lay on the ground, eyes vacant, while a walker knelt beside it in grotesque bliss, tearing at the carcass.
Several crossbow bolts protruded from the deer's body. Each bolt was embedded halfway, indicating the crossbow had been fired with tremendous force.
Caesar didn't let the walker continue its feast. He delivered a swift whip kick.
A tooth-grinding sound of shattering bone followed as the walker collapsed. Its neck had a concave depression on one side, while the other side had fractured completely—white bone spurs piercing through the blue-gray skin.
Even with its cervical vertebrae broken, the walker remained animated. Its jaw worked up and down, eyes occasionally rolling.
After dealing with the walker, Rick, Shane, and others arrived wielding various weapons.
They gathered around.
"How is there a walker here?"
Shane's eyes showed some alarm. There were walkers in the valley, but few in number, and they'd never seen one this close to camp before.
As he spoke, Shane glanced at Caesar.
He suspected yesterday's arrival of Caesar's cargo truck had drawn it in.
Caesar paid no attention to such speculation. He raised his boot and crushed the walker's skull.
"Instead of wondering why a walker appeared near camp, you'd be better off checking if there are more nearby."
Rip offered this sound advice.
Several people started talking over each other. Merle crouched down, pulled one of the crossbow bolts from the deer carcass, and his lips curved upward.
At that moment, the bushes to one side began to rustle.
The movement was considerable—clearly something large was about to emerge.
Caesar shot Rip a look. Rip understood and prepared to charge forward.
The commotion from the bushes silenced the arguing. Everyone gripped their weapons tightly, nervously swallowing as they stared fixedly at the shaking underbrush.
The movement intensified—whatever creature was there would appear any second. The tension mounted.
Just before the figure emerged, Rip charged like a raging bull into the bushes, wrapping his arms around a dark shadow that disappeared from everyone's view.