XXIX

—/<3/—

A month later, they still hadn't found a permanent place to stay. A lot of the time they drove around to different spots, camped in the fields by the roads for a few days and then left again when it got too dangerous and they had to kill more then a couple walkers an hour.

The colder seasons were coming fast and the rain and the leaves were already falling. They needed to find somewhere to stay soon, else they'd be caught in rainy season and have to spend the nights cramped up in their cars. Thankfully, the winters in Georgia were mild and it never dropped into the minuses, but they still needed to keep warm, so Daryl and Rory were out searching for coats and extra blankets. It wouldn't hurt to find more food either, since they we're constantly low and the animals would start hibernating soon.

"You think we'll all fit in there for a night or two? Just to get out of the rain?" Rory asked as they approached a one bedroom shack they found in the woods. She tugged her leather jacket tighter around her torso to keep the rain out.

"It'll be a tight fit but we can try, let's go check the place out," Daryl said. They jogged towards the shack, tapping the window a couple times to check for walkers inside. When a minute went by without anything coming to the window, they entered, wiping raindrops off their faces.

"I'm gonna check for coats and blankets in the closet," Rory said, crossing the small living room to the closer door. She began rifling through the lone box atop the shelf above the coat rack and pulling out a thick blanket the camp could use.

She yelped when Daryl shoved her into the closet. He placed his hand over her mouth and gently shut the closet door behind them. Rory squirmed in an attempt to free her arm which was stuck between the wall and her chest.

"Stop movin' and be quiet, someone's here," Daryl whispered into her ear, his chest was pressed up against her back. The closet was unbearably small and there was barely any room to breathe. Daryl's back was pressed up against the door, Rory's chest against the wall and no room between them.

When she finally managed to get her arms free, she gripped his wrist and pulled it away from her mouth and nose, taking a deep breath. He hadn't realised he'd been completely preventing her from breathing.

"Stop," he hissed, grabbing her hip and pushing her closer to the wall in an attempt to out at least a little bit of distance between them. They froze when the door opened and heavy footsteps entered the house, walking in the direction of the bedroom.

Daryl had left his crossbow by the front door, and he hoped whoever was here didn't notice it.

It took an hour for the man to leave, stomping back through the house with his heavy boots and slamming the door behind him. Daryl and Rory simultaneously breathed out a sigh of relief.

Daryl reached behind him and twisted the door handle, releasing them from the confines of their temporary prison.

"C'mon let's get outta here 'fore he comes back." Daryl crossed the room to the front door and grabbed his crossbow, that had somehow not been noticed by the person staying in the house.

Rory remained frozen in the closet for a few more seconds before she slowly bent down to pick up the blanket she'd dropped when Daryl pushed her in. She silently handed it to him so he could put it in his pack and walked out into the rain ahead of him.

—/<3/—

"Hey, um... did something happen on your run earlier? Rory's quieter then she normally is." Niamh approached Daryl by the edge of the woods once the rain had stopped. He was smoking a cigarette whilst sharpening his knife, looking up every so often to watch for walkers.

Daryl thought for a moment. They didn't usually talk too much in the woods just in case Daryl came across something to hunt so he hadn't noticed the silence. "We found this house, looked around for some coats, food 'n blankets but I saw someone comin' through the window so I pushed her in the closet and we hid in there for 'bout an hour until he left, but that's it."

Niamh grimaced. "Was there room to move?"

"Nah not really, didn't help that she kept squirmin'." Daryl took a drag of his cigarette.

Niamh cleared her throat and sat down next to him. "Something happened to Rory when she was younger... I can't tell you what 'cause Rory and Archie don't like to talk about it. But she doesn't like small spaces, not being able to move her arms and legs and not being able to breathe. Granted, no one likes not being able to breathe but she was— nevermind. Well at least I know what's wrong with her now, she'll be fine by morning." Niamh ran off to the car where Rory was napping in the passengers seat.

Daryl stared after her with a frown. Now that he thought about it, her behaviour after they left the house was a bit strange, the lack of eye contact, the rubbing of the tattoo that covered her scars. He realised earlier that she wasn't wriggling around to be difficult, she was trying to free herself and get his hand off her face but he had forgotten to apologise for covering her nose and mouth, too caught up in trying to get away. But now he knew it was part of a whole bigger problem.

—/<3/—