#i don't think my prayers saved that little bird dad. i don't think i have such a sway

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 21

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Another quick under 3,000 word update for you guys :) Enjoy!

When it's quiet, Carl and I go visit Sophia's grave together.

Under the low-hanging oak tree is a whole long line of graves, many more than the last time I stood here, all marked with their own wonky, homemade cross. Rings, necklaces, hand-written notes and little trinkets hang from each one, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. I wonder which belongs to the one I killed the other night, which mound of dirt and death I'm responsible for. I wonder if they know I'm sorry.

I don't have to wonder which is Sophia's. I know already. It's the one with the Cherokee roses laying on it.

I step forward and carefully place Matilda against the white petals, making sure her yarn-hair is neat and her dress is as it should be, while Carl lays the Pokémon folder down next to it. When I promised Carol I'd return the doll to her someday, I never imagined it would be like this.

As we step back, I grab Carl's hand and tell the small grave, "Wherever you are, I hope you get to play again."

Thoughts and prayers, I think they say. I don't think they ever done any good to nobody. If God was listening to silly things like thoughts and prayers, this tree would be someplace we could play together, and not the graveyard it's turned into. Those roses would've worked. But it's like Shane said. Sophia was weak. Just 'cause it don't sound nice, don't mean it ain't true. She was weak, and she paid the price for it. I wish I could do more than just stand here and miss her, but maybe I can also learn from what she couldn't, be stronger, live what she didn't get to.

I ain't never seen much purpose in death, but maybe that's it. Maybe like scars, all they do is make us stronger.

"We'll miss you, Sophia." Carl utters, squeezing my fingers. "I'm sorry we couldn't find you."

When he starts sniffling, I feel even emptier than I already do. I should cry with him, but I can't. I don't know why. I've always been a bit of a crier. It was one of the things Merle hated most about me. If you're gonna be angry, be angry, but don't start cryin' too while yer at it. He used to need to shout at me and shake me by the shoulders to get me to dry up, but now I've dried up all on my own.

"She'd dead, Carl." I mumble, turning away. "Ain't no tears ever saved nobody."

When we make it back up to the gate where Dad's waiting for us, he doesn't mention my scowl. He kisses my hair and leads us up the path. When we get there, Carl drags me to the spot behind his family's tent, 'cause apparently he wants to show me something.

"You gotta promise not to tell." He warns as he pulls a gun from underneath a rock. "I stole it this morning from Dad."

My eyes go wide. I was not expecting a gun. Carl's more the type of person to steal a cookie before dessert, not guns.

I quickly duck down, glancing around to make sure none of the adults saw. "What the Hell, Carl?"

"You remember Shane was gonna take us for shooting lessons, right? Well, that's not happening anymore. We gotta do it ourselves."

"Are you serious? Your parents are gonna kill ya if they find out, you moron."

"Duh. That's why I'm not gonna tell 'em."

"Adults like to know where kids are." I scold him harshly. "You wanna end up like Sophia?"

"No," He says firmly. "I wanna end up like you. You know all about surviving. You know plants, and birds, and animals. I know nothing."

He's right, I suppose. He doesn't really know anything. He didn't grow up around hunters, didn't live by the woods, didn't get compasses and boots and BB guns for his birthdays. I bet he's never even killed before, neither. Not even a rat in the rafters. Just like Sophia, he knows nothing.

I would like to teach Carl what I know, but I've never done somethin' like this. Unsure, I grumble, "I don't like gettin' in trouble."

"It's fine. We'll be quick." He assures me. "And if we get caught, I'll just say the whole thing was my idea."

I pin him with a look. "It was your idea."

"Exactly. Besides, you got lost in the woods for two whole days and you were fine. I'll be in good hands. So you coming, or what?"

I sigh. "You're gonna go no matter what I say, ain't ya?"

"Mm-hmm."

I roll my eyes. Finally, someone as stubborn as I am. That settles it, then.

"Fine." I say. "I'll come."

He pumps his fist excitedly. "Yes!"

"But lemme grab somethin' first before we leave."

He tucks the gun into his pants line and follows after me as I make my way to mine and Dad's camp. When I stop in front of the motorcycle parked in the shade, he asks what I'm doing, but I wordlessly flip the saddlebag open and pull out a shiny, mean-lookin' Bowie knife.

He blanches at the sight of it as I strap the sheath to my belt loop. "That's the biggest knife I've ever seen."

"Used to be my Uncle Merle's." I say absentmindedly, before nodding him toward the treeline. "Let's go."

"For the record," Carl hums as we walk along the marshy creek, "I think the missing ear makes you look super badass."

I give him a light shove, making him stumble and giggle. "Keep talkin', and you'll be missin' yours in a minute."

"What? You don't think you look badass?"

"Not really."

"Well, I say you do. And I'm always right."

"No, you ain't. Hey, look. Mushrooms."

We skip across a toppled log laying in the water and leap onto the other side, approaching a cluster of brown mushrooms sprouting from the base of a fat tree. Morels, made obvious by their wrinkly, honey-comb caps. I pull him down with me and start plucking some.

"These are Morels." I explain, handing him a stubby, dark-colored stalk. "Here. You can eat 'em."

He takes it from me like it's a bomb. "Are you sure? How can you tell?"

I snap another off. "'Cause they're ugly and they smell like bread."

He grins in amazement as I pop it in my mouth without hesitation. Encouraged to do the same, he takes a little nibble of his.

I watch his eyes go wide. As expected, he seems to like it. "Tastes like nuts."

"The darker the cap, the more flavor ya get. Not that you'd be worryin' too much about that when you're dyin' in the woods, I guess."

"Still a cool fact, though." He takes my hand and stands up. "Let's go find some more stuff."

Happy to keep exploring, we wonder from tree to tree, bush to bush, rock to rock. I teach him which berries will make you froth at the mouth and die and which ones will taste like sour candies, how to tell poison oak from regular leaves, which mark on the ground means what.

I even teach him to make a whistle from a mottled wax-leaf, which he seems to find very fun.

He blows through it for a hundredth time, making the ringing in my ears turn piercingly loud.

"Quit that noise, dumbass." I complain, reaching to snatch it from him.

He comes to a sudden halt, leaf falling from his lips.

"What is it?" Frowning, I turn to what he's looking at.

There's a walker stood on the bank opposite us, its foot caught under the thick, gummy mud. It keeps trying to break free, but it's skinny as a twig and useless as a newborn deer, so it ain't gettin' outta there any time soon, which is good for us but bad for him, I guess.

Watching it flail around, Carl wonders, "Should we shoot it?"

It'd make an easy target, but I got no interest in killin' that thing. Might be the one that bit Sophia. It deserves to suffer.

"Nah." I sourly disagree, turning away. "Let's just leave it there. We can go shoot somethin' else."

He gives it one last glance before falling into step with me. "Okay. Like what?"

"Somethin' that's useful. Rabbit, maybe."

"Ooh, you can teach me to skin it. You ever done that before?"

Have I ever killed and skinned a rabbit?

Pssh. "That's funny, Carl."

He giggles at that.

We return to the farm about an hour later with a dead hare. I offered to carry it, but Carl says he likes having it slung over his shoulder 'cause it makes him feel like a strong caveman, whatever that means. I tracked it and taught him to shoot the thing, but I guess it was him that shot it dead so technically, it's his kill. His first ever kill. He didn't get squeamish or nothin', not even when I flayed its skin off with the knife.

"That was awesome," He exclaims, not caring that there's blood all over his shirt. "Where'd you even learn to shoot?"

Tall grass and laughter come to mind, but as we approach the gate, I settle on shrugging, "Doesn't matter."

"Well, I can't believe an eight-year-old got to learn to shoot before I did."

I unlatch it and open it for him, joking, "Maybe it's 'cause I'm better behaved."

"You know what," He lilts as he steps past, "You're probably right."

I lock it closed and follow him along the path back to camp, feeling more and more grateful that I'm behind him and can hide a little when I realize we weren't as sneaky as we thought we were, as Rick, Lori, Dad, and Dale jump out their seats at the sight of us approaching.

My stomach does a weird little flip at the angry look on Dad's face. I have to remind myself things are different now.

"Where were you?" Lori screeches, running to crouch in front of us. "You silly boy, where were you?"

"We just went out for a bit, Mom. We're fine." He seems to think showing her the hare won't make things ten times worse. "Look!"

Before she can lose her mind again, Dad snatches it off him. "What the Hell were y'all thinkin'?"

"I'm sorry, Dad." I tell him. "I just—"

"You disobeyed me, is what you did." He scolds. "'Stay where I can see ya.' Ain't that what I always say?"

"It's what we say, too." Rick frowns. "You know it's dangerous out there. There's a reason we have rules."

"And there's a reason we keep the gun bag away from children." Dale raises a brow. "We know there's a pistol missing, son."

Lori holds out her hand. He makes a big deal out of pulling the gun out and handing it over. 

"You too, Harley. Where'd you get that knife?"

"It's Merle's." Dad gruffly answers for me. He doesn't take it, but I can tell he's disappointed. Feels so wrong not gettin' belted for this.

"Guys, she didn't even wanna come at first." Carl says. "It was my idea. I asked her to. I thought it would be safer with the both of us."

"So, what you're saying is you not only stole from us and snuck out without permission," Chides Rick, "But you put Harley in danger, too."

"I— I didn't think I was."

"As the older child, you should've known better. You need to look out for her, Carl. This isn't a joke."

Dad scoffs, "Nah, she's more'un capable of followin' orders on her own. She knows not to sneak out."

"Tell you what, we can go shootin' sometime soon if that's somethin' you feel you wanna do, but you cannot do this again."

Lori adds, "Ever."

"Is that clear?"

I nod straight away, but Carl takes a little longer before he gives in. "Do we at least get to eat the rabbit?"

"If you promise you won't try gettin' another one for tomorrow's dinner."

He sighs moodily. "Fine. Okay."

"Glad we're finally on the same page."

As Lori leads Carl away to get him changed into a shirt that's not so blood-soaked, he throws me an apologetic look over his shoulder. He didn't mean for us to get in trouble. Rick leaves to replace the gun, Dale resumes watch duty, and Dad drags me back to our camp without another word. I don't bother saying sorry again. I know he don't appreciate being told the same thing twice, so I keep my mouth shut.

I half expect him to lay me over his knee the second we make it back, but all he does is sit me down on the stump.

"You sit here for however long I feel's right, and you think about how you done wrong."

As he walks off to start preparing the rabbit, I take great effort in keeping my jaw from dropping.

Time-out. I ain't ever been in time-out before. Usually, I just get whipped and that's it, but things really are different now.

I accept my punishment without complaint, watching him gut the hare and slice it into small strips, laying them out on the rocks around the crackling fire. I wonder if he's letting me keep the knife because I did a good job skinning. I hope so. He taught me how, after all.

Once the meat's cooked, which takes about ten short minutes, he beckons me off the stump with a nod of his head.

"Come get some food, chicken."

I hop off and approach him unconfidently, taking the mug of browned meat that he offers me.

"Carl was smart takin' you with him." He says. "Would'a fucked that poor animal up, otherwise."

I find myself trying not to smile. I think I like time-out.

"Are you still angry with me?"

"I don't like what you did, Harley. You went and did somethin' behind my back." I understand that. It wasn't right. "But you wanna start doin' some things on yer own, I'm more'un happy to let you, baby, you know that. Simple things, like havin' yer own knife. I'll allow that."

I perk up a little. "I can keep Merle's knife?"

"Yeah. A gun, though, we'll have to work up to. You got plenty people around here ready to protect you with guns, already. But it's important to know how to shoot one, anyway, so when Rick takes Carl, he can take you, too. Certified instructor, and all that."

That's more than fair. "Alright. Thank you, Dad."

"I'll show you how to use that thing properly later, but for now," He hands me another hot mug, "Go shut Carl up with some'a this."

I carry both mugs back to main camp and find Rick and Carl sitting together at the picnic table, having what looks like the serious conversation me and Dad just got done having. When they notice me, Rick finishes off what he was saying and scoots over so I can sit next to him.

"Dad cooked the hare." I tell him, passing it across the table. He takes it with an owlish look. "Might still be hot."

"I don't think you've ever eaten hare before, have you, buddy?"

"No. Had skunk, though." He pops a piece in his mouth. "Mm. That's pretty good."

"Now you got a taste of what you wanted, I expect you to reel it in a bit. Protection's important, but not if it ends up killing you."

"Rick, My Dad said I can come shooting with you and Carl, if that's okay."

"'Course, honey. I think I'm gonna ask some of the others if they wanna come, too. Start today, if you want."

Me and Carl share an excited glance. "Yes, please."

"Alright, then. Finish up that food and we'll see about leavin' soon."

Author's Note.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, everyone 💙

Some more intense things coming up in the next one.

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