Post by Damon Carter on Apr 2, 2016 12:08:42 GMT -5
Damon followed her back to the old pump, bucket in hand. He paused a few paces away from her and watched as she tried to get the pump going, get the water moving. He scanned the surrounding area a few times, feeling the weight of his knife against his belt. This property was safe, safer than anywhere he had been before, but he had been through too much to not be on his guard. Hopefully, over time, he could learn to relax a little. But he wasn't counting on it.
"Do you want help with that?" He asked. He figured that she would be fine on her own, or at the very least that she would tell him if she needed assistance. But she was doing him a great favor by letting them stay here, especially after the tumultuous beginning that Charles and Arden had had. There was no harm in being polite and helpful, he owed it to her. "I figured that Amarie wouldn't mind. She's tough, but she's kind. You all are, actually. It's kind of nice."
Everyone had had their bad moments since being cooped up in the farm house weeks ago, but that was the price of stress and fighting to survive in this world. That was the price of living in cramped quarters with multiple people, some of which were strangers. But most times, people persevered. Most times, they formed bonds and relationships. Damon had traveled long and far with Charles, and together they had been through a lot. But their relationship had always been distant, and that distance followed him to the Bayou. The only true bond that he had formed was with Skylar, and in turn Walker, and now things were a little complicated. When Remy answered his offer to help with a question about leaving the baby for so long, he felt a sourness in his stomach that arose for a different reason. It wasn't that he wanted to leave the baby or distance himself from him or the mother, but he knew that he had to. And that wasn't a good feeling.
"I've been taking care of the baby, yeah." His answer was truthful, but his words were hollow. "When we found Skylar, Charles told me to take care of her, so I have been." He could feel it in the air in the Bayou, the tension, so he addressed it briefly. "She's a good person, Remy. Sometimes she does bad things. Stupid things. Like run off into the woods to hunt alone." Or run off into bed to fuck Charles. "But I don't think she meant any harm, and I don't think she'll do it again." His defense was slow and soft, devoid of any passion or emotion. The time for that had passed, it had ended the night before, down on that cot. It was the elephant in the room, the unspeakable. "As far as the baby goes, I have a feeling that my services as babysitter are no longer needed. So if you do end up needing a way to New Orleans, just let me know."
It could do him some good to get away from the farm for a little while, away from everybody. If she didn't need him to take her to New Orleans with Owen, perhaps he could make a supply run of his own to clear his head. He would just need someone to go with, and right now, he didn't have many viable options. But he was interrupted from his reverie when Remy asked him where he was from. It was simple small talk, but it was pleasantly surprising to him. No one asked about anyone anymore. No one cared to. But Damon did, and up until that moment, he hadn't met anyone else in his travels who did.
"I came up from Georgia, yeah, but that's not where I'm from." He moved towards the well and rested the bucket on top of the edge, sneaking a peek down into the depths of the well. "I'm from Illinois originally, but I moved to Florida when I was a teenager with my dad. That's where I was when the outbreak happened. My buddies and I tried to get back to Illinois, but we didn't make it. Well, I didn't make it." He stared down into the well, eyes never leaving the depths as he spoke. He had to hope that Yameki and Jimmy had made it okay. He had to have faith or it would eat at him. "I ended up in Georgia on accident, actually. I was in Tennessee, but I got really turned around and ended up there." Remembering Georgia meant remembering Dannie, and it colored him with a sadness in his heart. "That's where I met Charles and Dannie. Then we went to Jacksonville, then arrived here." He made a rolling motion with his wrist and hand, wrapping up the story. "But you already know that part."
The cranking of the pump brought him out of his conversation, and as he realized how much he had talked, he smiled a little awkwardly out of embarrassment. Traveling with Charles was all business, all survival; it had to be. If they had taken a moment to relax like this, they would have been dead. But until now, with the feverish chirps of cicadas and the lazy buzz of insects in his ears, he had never had a moment to reflect on just how starved for conversation he was. He laughed a little, bashful, and looked to her then. "Sorry. Didn't mean to talk too much. You said your apartment was in the city, right? So were you from here and went there for work or school, then?"
"Do you want help with that?" He asked. He figured that she would be fine on her own, or at the very least that she would tell him if she needed assistance. But she was doing him a great favor by letting them stay here, especially after the tumultuous beginning that Charles and Arden had had. There was no harm in being polite and helpful, he owed it to her. "I figured that Amarie wouldn't mind. She's tough, but she's kind. You all are, actually. It's kind of nice."
Everyone had had their bad moments since being cooped up in the farm house weeks ago, but that was the price of stress and fighting to survive in this world. That was the price of living in cramped quarters with multiple people, some of which were strangers. But most times, people persevered. Most times, they formed bonds and relationships. Damon had traveled long and far with Charles, and together they had been through a lot. But their relationship had always been distant, and that distance followed him to the Bayou. The only true bond that he had formed was with Skylar, and in turn Walker, and now things were a little complicated. When Remy answered his offer to help with a question about leaving the baby for so long, he felt a sourness in his stomach that arose for a different reason. It wasn't that he wanted to leave the baby or distance himself from him or the mother, but he knew that he had to. And that wasn't a good feeling.
"I've been taking care of the baby, yeah." His answer was truthful, but his words were hollow. "When we found Skylar, Charles told me to take care of her, so I have been." He could feel it in the air in the Bayou, the tension, so he addressed it briefly. "She's a good person, Remy. Sometimes she does bad things. Stupid things. Like run off into the woods to hunt alone." Or run off into bed to fuck Charles. "But I don't think she meant any harm, and I don't think she'll do it again." His defense was slow and soft, devoid of any passion or emotion. The time for that had passed, it had ended the night before, down on that cot. It was the elephant in the room, the unspeakable. "As far as the baby goes, I have a feeling that my services as babysitter are no longer needed. So if you do end up needing a way to New Orleans, just let me know."
It could do him some good to get away from the farm for a little while, away from everybody. If she didn't need him to take her to New Orleans with Owen, perhaps he could make a supply run of his own to clear his head. He would just need someone to go with, and right now, he didn't have many viable options. But he was interrupted from his reverie when Remy asked him where he was from. It was simple small talk, but it was pleasantly surprising to him. No one asked about anyone anymore. No one cared to. But Damon did, and up until that moment, he hadn't met anyone else in his travels who did.
"I came up from Georgia, yeah, but that's not where I'm from." He moved towards the well and rested the bucket on top of the edge, sneaking a peek down into the depths of the well. "I'm from Illinois originally, but I moved to Florida when I was a teenager with my dad. That's where I was when the outbreak happened. My buddies and I tried to get back to Illinois, but we didn't make it. Well, I didn't make it." He stared down into the well, eyes never leaving the depths as he spoke. He had to hope that Yameki and Jimmy had made it okay. He had to have faith or it would eat at him. "I ended up in Georgia on accident, actually. I was in Tennessee, but I got really turned around and ended up there." Remembering Georgia meant remembering Dannie, and it colored him with a sadness in his heart. "That's where I met Charles and Dannie. Then we went to Jacksonville, then arrived here." He made a rolling motion with his wrist and hand, wrapping up the story. "But you already know that part."
The cranking of the pump brought him out of his conversation, and as he realized how much he had talked, he smiled a little awkwardly out of embarrassment. Traveling with Charles was all business, all survival; it had to be. If they had taken a moment to relax like this, they would have been dead. But until now, with the feverish chirps of cicadas and the lazy buzz of insects in his ears, he had never had a moment to reflect on just how starved for conversation he was. He laughed a little, bashful, and looked to her then. "Sorry. Didn't mean to talk too much. You said your apartment was in the city, right? So were you from here and went there for work or school, then?"