CHAPTER EIGHT
viii. ARDUOUS DUTIES

RUTH

HER DARK EYES pointed downwards as she sat down on the floor. Ruth could hear Daryl ripping the feathers off of the owl he found upstairs, and she tried to ignore the noise. The feathers gathered near her feet, and she almost wanted to stomp on them. Each rip sounded like the tear of fabric, and the moment she heard a bone snap, she wanted to cringe away. Her hand ran across her cheek, feeling the hot flesh that burned underneath. She aggressively tried to wipe the sweat accumulating on her forehead away, each attempt being unsuccessful.

Small footsteps made her eyes snap open. Carl stood in the doorway, his small hands grasping a can. The label was invisible to Ruth's eyes, and her eyes lit up in hope that maybe the group would eat today. Her stomach dropped as her eyes recognized the small image of a dog on the cover. Carl dropped to his knees and attempted to open the can as quick as possible. Her gaze flicked to Rick as he approached his son. Ruth watched as Rick turned the can over in his hands and read the label.

Her body jumped upwards as the can hit the ground, the clatter of the aluminum banging roughly on the wooden floor. Rick's frustrated stance towered over the slumped over figures on the ground. It reminded her of the words he said before winter came. This is not a democracy anymore. It never was. One man would stand over the others, beating down on each and every action they did. This was before the apocalypse hit as well. Each era, one man would rule them all, and the others would do his tasks. Rick in this world was the king, and the group were the people who had to follow his command. He kept them safe, though, and that's all that mattered.

"Psst." T-Dog whispered. The group quickly packed up whatever things they had sat down. It was like this on and off all winter. Moving from place to place had become a norm for the group. They were essentially animals, migrating from place to place to avoid danger and find food.

They moved like wolves out of the house. Each person's feet emitted little to no noise, and they all ran side by side, almost as if they were a pack. Ruth carried a large sleeping bag over her back, her hand placed on Carl's shoulder. She urged him further forward as Rick came running up behind her. The three followed Lori to the car. Ruth managed to toss the bag into the trunk, and slammed the door down after without any hesitation. Before they knew it, the group was gone, and the beasts were left to the dust.

••

"When this herd meets up with this one, we'll be cut off." Ruth heard Maggie announce from behind her. Carl stood by the smaller brunette's side, a gun placed in between his smaller hands. Ruth, on the other hand, only held a knife. She didn't know how to shoot a gun, so why should she waste the bullets?

The others stood further behind them, huddled over a small map on the hood of the green car. After her outburst in the winter, they managed to trust her more. She had become one of their own, and each member grew closer with her. Lori and her talked the most, even if they found awkward pauses in their conversations when Lori would be overly grateful for Ruth sharing her food. She felt as if they were close enough to be called friends, but she wasn't sure if the feeling was mutual.

Carl rocked nervously from left to right, muttering apologies each time he accidentally bumped into Ruth. She drowned out their conversation, concentrating on the sounds of the wilderness. She didn't want to be distracted no matter what, and her hawkish eyes held a staring contest with the treeline. She was holding this constant facade of being okay these past few months, but she really wasn't. Her shoulders were always tense, even though they shouldn't have. Each time she breathed, it felt like her heart was missing a piece with it.

It didn't really hit Ruth that Erin was gone until these couple of weeks. She couldn't understand why, but she only cried for a few days after her death. Maybe the times where she was starving left her to replace food with thoughts to satisfy herself. Erin was a part of her, and Ruth couldn't accept the fact that she died. Her heart was split like somebody ripped it in half, and her lungs constantly felt like they were wrapped in rubber bands.

"Ruth." Carl whispered from beside her. Her eyes flickered over to him.

"Yea?"

"You okay?"

Ruth froze, her eyes never leaving his. Her tongue ran over her lips, and her brows furrowed. Was she? "I-I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Yea." Ruth said quietly. "I haven't been okay since the dead stopped being... dead."

She saw Carl nod from beside her. "I can see that."

Her eyes trailed from the trees to her beaten and battered shoes, the rubber peeling away from the leather boots. The boots themselves were even worse. The leather couldn't handle the change in weather, and it wrinkled in some places where it got wet.

"You just learn to move on. Put up a mask." She whispered. "Hope everything turns out okay, even though it probably won't."

Ruth heard the cracking of twigs from behind them, and she whipped her knife at the threat. She instead found her knife at Rick's throat, surprise coating his irises. She muttered an apology, stepping back from the man.

He smirked, his eyes landing on his son. "You're gonna want to see this."

••

"Hurry." Rick said, cutting open the fence with wire cutters. The group forced their way inside, and Ruth soon followed. T-Dog was the last one in as Glenn closed it back up. Lori's hand rested on Ruth's shoulder for support, and she could hear small pants coming from the pregnant woman's mouth.

As soon as the hole was closed, walkers banged against the fences of the prison. Each one held its own growl as its fingers reached through the wire. Most wore prison uniforms, a baggy blue denim jumpsuit that looked uncomfortable to Ruth. Daryl and Rick led the way, running ahead and around the corner.

"Here," Ruth said to Lori, taking the backpack off of the woman's back. "You can't carry stuff anymore. My rules."

"Thanks."

"Yeah." She replied, helping Lori run with the others. They came to a complete stop in front of a new section in the fencing. Ruth glanced over to Rick, seeing a near smile reach his lips.

"It's perfect." He sighed. "If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. We'll take the field by tonight."

"So how do we shut the gate?" Hershel asked. Ruth saw how slim the older man had gotten with malnutrition. His face seemed sunken in and gaunt as the skin tightened to his skull. Ruth didn't acknowledge it much, though, because everyone in the group was in a similar state.

Glenn sighed. "I'll do it. You guys cover me."

"No. It's a suicide run." Maggie cut in, worry filling her eyes. Ruth wanted to smile at the two. Their relationship had grown since the farm, and it showed significantly. She sort of wished for love like that in the end of the world, but she also saw the risks that came with it. Besides, she was a loner.

"I'm the fastest." Glenn said louder as more walkers accumulated on the fence.

"No, you, Ruth, Maggie, and Beth draw as many as you can over there. Pop 'em through the fence." Rick declared. His eyes met Ruth's in a questioning stare, and she nodded in reply. The four of them ran slightly further down the way, banging their weapons on the fencing.

"Come on! Let's go!" Ruth shouted, hitting her palm and knife repeatedly on the wire. As some walkers got closer, she plunged her knife into their eyes. Their growls would hush with each movement, and Ruth almost felt giddy at the sight. Out of her peripheral, she watched as Rick dashed down the driveway of the grassy field. His gun was out in front of him, and she couldn't help but watch the concentration and composure he held with each shot.

Her thoughts snapped with the banging of a walker on the other side of the fence. She shook herself from her daze, stabbing the walker through the wiring. She heard the clanking of a fence being shut, but she didn't move her eyes again. "Over here!" She yelled again, hitting the fence.

"Little assholes." She muttered, stabbing the holes in the fence repeatedly.

"Light it up!" Daryl shouted from the watch tower. Ruth continued to hit the fence and use her knife, blood occasionally getting onto her shirt. She could care less, though, because now she had a safe haven. Gunshots echoed through the field. It hurt her ears, but she didn't care. Eventually, the last walker dropped to the ground, and silence met the group's ears. It was a good silence, though.

And for the first time in awhile, Ruth laughed. It was an actual laugh of joy, not one of condescension or anything else. She was thrilled, and nothing could rip that away from her now. A grin reached her face, too. It felt weird to do so after so long, but it felt like she never stopped.

She didn't want it to either.

••

Ruth pulled her knees up into her chest, quietly chewing on the squirrel Daryl caught for dinner. She heard Glenn sigh across from her. "Ah, just like mom used to make." He said sarcastically. Ruth smirked, shaking her head softly.

"Tomorrow we'll put all the bodies together. Want to keep them away from that water. Now, if we can dig a canal under the fence, we'll have plenty of fresh water." T-Dog announced, his fingers running through the dirt beneath him.

"The soil is good." Hershel replied. "We could plant some seed. Grow some tomatoes, cucumbers, soybeans." He sat up slightly, looking over Glenn's head. She followed his gaze, noticing the man following the fence line. He held his gun out, his eyes scanning up and down the wiring. She had to give him credit. If anything, Rick was attentive to every detail.

"That's his third time around. If there was any part of it compromised, he'd have found it by now." Hershel muttered.

Ruth watched Beth lean over to Lori, her doe-like eyes wider than usual. "This'll be a good place to have the baby. Safe." She said, her eyes never leaving Lori's.

Ruth's eyes didn't falter from Rick's figure in the distance. She watched how he took each step like he was avoiding a trap in the ground. He was mindful of the monsters that banged on the fence, but did nothing about it. She wanted to approach him and tell him that he was doing the right thing, but she didn't want to get stared down if she stood from her place.

She pushed back a strand of hair that fell in front her eyes, the dark hair feeling greasy in her dirt-lined fingernails. It was moments like these where she wondered if the world really was dead. Where were her parents? She didn't know. Her little brother? She didn't know. It bothered her that she was just now thinking of these things, as if her world didn't stop turning and she was somehow living in her former self.

Her gaze flicked back to the man who walked the wall. How could the man even be described? His sundry ideas of right and wrong were mixed into a hodgepodge of different personas. Was he a king? Was he a hero? She knew he was neither. He was Rick. A man with no heroism to back his name. He may have been a hero before, but now he resembled something of just human. He made mistakes, but he learned from them like the rest do. He was neither a superhero nor a villain. He was Rick.

"Bethy, sing Paddy Reilly for me. I haven't heard that, I think, since your mother was alive." Hershel asked.

Maggie shook her head. "Daddy, not that one, please."

"How about 'The Parting Glass'?"

"No one wants to hear." Beth sighed.

Glenn smiled."Why not?" He asked.

"Okay."

Words came from the younger girl's mouth in a harmonic rhythm that even with just vocals, it was perfect.

Of all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company.

Ruth closed her eyes to the song, her breaths shallow as she attempted to match it with the beat. She felt lightheaded, but she ignored it the best she could.

And all the harm e'er I've ever done, alas it was to none but me.

She felt as if the girl's voice could softly lull her to sleep, but the words gave her chills up her spine. No harm could come to anybody else but herself when she did wrong, but that seemed like a lie. Erin died because Ruth wanted to escape. She got shot in the chest by her fiance, Jack, and that's the reason she's dead. It was all her fault, she realized. She killed her sister. She couldn't have, but she did. Erin Elliot was Ruth's first victim.

And all I've done for want of wit. To memory now I can't recall.

Ruth felt the air become harder to breathe, and she leaned her head back against the log. She tried to soothe herself to the sounds of Beth's voice, but she found it haunting as the evil words rang through the girl's lips. She had made many mistakes, like the song said, but she couldn't remember many of them. She messed up more than she could recall, and it haunted her to think that she might become numb to anything she did.

So fill to me the parting glass. Good night and joy be with you all.

Ruth could end up killing somebody and not feel anything, and that's what haunted her. She wasn't a murderer, but what if she became one? Would she remember their names and mark their graves? Or would she stab them in a ruthless butchery that left her craving more blood? She could be a monster and not even recognize that she was one, and that terrified her.

Oh, all the comrades that e'er I had, were sorry for my going away.

Ruth stood from her spot on the ground, trying her best to ignore the stares from the others. She moved as fast as she could across the grass, her feet shaking from underneath her.

and all the sweethearts that e'er I had would wish me - one more day to stay.

"You're not a monster." She mumbled. "No. No you aren't." Her hands trembled at her sides, and the night that once felt warm was ice cold. Each second she breathed the air, her body trembled more. It was like Death had come to take her for being a sinner. She didn't kill somebody with her own hands, but Erin died from Ruth's mistakes. Therefore, in a sense, she was the murderer. She pulled the trigger.

But since it falls unto my lot. That I should rise, and you should not.

She yanked at her hair, feeling the tears force themselves from her eyes. It was only a matter of time before the world made her go insane. She regretted everything she did, but it wasn't until those words were sung did she feel the magnitude of that guilt. She dropped to her knees in the grass, the words echoing into her brain and ringing like a whistle.

I'll gently rise, and I'll softly call. Good night and joy be with you all.

Her tears stopped, and she felt something different. She was angry. Not at herself, but at the people who ruined her. Andrew did this to her. Jack did this to her. She was angry at them for making her like this, and her stomach hurt at the thought. Her breathing was ragged, and she forced herself to calm down. Her fingers ached, but it was nothing like the lump in her throat. She knew what she sought would make her the monster she refused to be, but she had to do it. Ruth was done being weak. She was done with letting people stomp over her. The only thing she would possibly be okay with from now on is being the person she was before the world collapsed on itself. She was brave before this nightmare, and she couldn't let this world take that away anymore.

Ruth would avenge her sister. She'd bite back with a bigger vengeance than the beasts outside the prison walls if it meant that her sister's death wasn't proven worthless. She was a survivor, and she had to play the part.

She was the lion in the jungle, and her first task was to kill the hyenas.

Good night and joy be with you all.

••

damnnn this was tons of fun omg im excited and i hope you liked it

also 1k reads?? that's amazing and i love literally every single one of you!!

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thank you

cass xx

ps. did two updates in one day i feel proud of myself (merry christmas)