Re: TWD: graham + clem
Clem didn't see him right off. She was too busy fretting about dumb Shane being gone. She wasn't even fretting over her water nearly being drained, or about the fact that she was going to be dead as could be if someone didn't show soon. She knew Graham would try to come, on account of Shane asking. She knew Shane would try to get on back, because that was just the kind of thing that damn man did. Didn't mean anyone would make it, because the world outside that window looked like an ocean of things gone dead, and she was angry at herself for putting them all there, in the middle of it.
Dumb girl, romanticizing things that weren't never meant to be romanticized.
She didn't see any movement outside, but it would be real hard to see a thing with the dead moving jerky like they did. All she knew was she didn't want to be like one of them things, and she knew she might have to think on that eventually, but not yet. Her arm hurt like burning, and she was thirsty from conserving what water was left, lips all cracking and her hair dry as straw, but she wasn't in any real danger yet, not long as the doors held. As for being hungry, the smell could turn anyone off food, so that was a lucky thing some.
She'd just started moving away from the window when she heard the whistle. Like Shane knocking on the bars of the cell, it stood out as something dead folk didn't do, and she went right on back and leaned out. Hands on the sill, and her upper body out in the Atlanta sun, and she looked and listened, waiting to see if the sound repeated.
If it wasn't for her bad shoulder, she could climb on out to the ledge outside her window, the overhang of the floor down below, but no way she was risking that without someone to help her if she got stuck. And could be anyone out there whistling. Last time here had taught her that some of the folks in this place, the living, had gone as a bad as the the dead things.
But she caught sight of him then.
The man looked as bad as Shane when he'd come to the prison, and she near gagged at the remembering. She hated this damn place, but she went back to the bed and grabbed the sheets all tied up in a rope ladder that Shane fashioned from near every cloth thing in the storage closet. It was tied real good to the foot of the four-poster bed, and she tossed it out the window to make climbing easier if Graham needed.
They were going to waste some water on getting them guts off him, whether the fool man liked it or not.