The AR-15 was cold but comfortable in Daryl's bare hands. It didn't feel like an extension of himself, the way his crossbow did, but it was still natural to him. He noticed Carol was holding her rifle in an equally relaxed manner. She'd come a long way since those early days in the prison, when she'd practiced shooting and seemed almost frightened by the recoil.

The Georgia sky was a clear, dark purple expanse tonight, punctuated by stars. Daryl gazed up at them from the prison watchtower, all those burned out suns, dead but not dead, still reaching out their life to earth, the way the walkers reached their fingers through the wire fence below. The gnashing of the small crowd that had gathered along the fence had become a familiar sound to Daryl, like any other forest noise – the chirping of fall crickets, the hooting of the winter owl, the chattering of spring chipmunks – familiar, but not soothing, the way those others sounds were.

Carol strolled to the far end of the tower. She had her suede jacket buttoned all the way to the top, and Daryl didn't blame her. His poncho billowed out over him, providing a heavy layer of warmth. It had gotten just cold enough that their breaths made faint clouds in the air. He supposed they could go inside the booth, but they got a better view from the rail, and you had to breathe the fresh air as often as you could when you lived in a prison. Merle had told him he only got two hours of yard time a day when he was in juvie. That would have made Daryl insane. He couldn't stand to spend ten hours a day under the roof of a house, let alone twenty-two in a prison.

Carol strolled back and stopped beside him. She looked out over the quiet prison yard, the meandering walkers in the field, and the few thrashing at the fence. "Night watch is boring."

"Peaceful," Daryl said.

"You say potato, I say poh-tah-toe."

"Well no one promised ya it'd be a party up here."

"Glenn and Maggie always have a party up here," she said with a smile and a wiggle of her eyebrow.

Daryl didn't know why she did that. She was always making sexually suggestive comments to him. Was that just how all women acted when they were friends with a man? He didn't know. He'd never been friends with a woman before. Was she flirting with him? Is that what flirting was? He didn't know. He'd had women come onto him before, but mostly when they were high or drunk, and there'd been nothing subtle about how they'd done it. If it was flirting, did she want him to flirt back? And if she did, how in the hell was he supposed to do that? Wouldn't it sound pervy if he said the kind of things to her she said to him? Wouldn't she be disgusted and start avoiding him? Daryl never knew what to say to her when she did that, so he just said what he always said: "Stop it."

Carol laughed. Her sexual teasing made him confused and uncomfortable, but the one thing he liked about it was that it always made her smile. He loved her smile. It brought out the twinkle in her pretty blue eyes and turned her face girlish and sweet. Seeing her happy made him feel happy, at least, he assumed that's what this feeling was. Happy had not been a common emotion for him, but he didn't know how else to describe the slightly increased heart rate he experienced when she smiled, or that weird fluttering in his stomach, like night moths trapped under a porch light.

"Let's play a game," she said.

"We's s'posed to be watchin'. Cain't watch and toss a ball 'round."

"Not that kind of game," Carol said. "A talking game."

"S'posed to be watchin'."

"What, you can't walk and chew gum at the same time?"

"Don't chew gum."

Carol chuckled. "Fine. Can you walk and chew tobacco at the same time?"

"Course I can. Prefer smokes, though. Don't need that quick, strong buzz all at once. I like it slow."

"You like it slow? Good to know," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

He tilted his head down, away from her gaze, and murmured, "Stop it."

She giggled. That's the only way he knew how to describe it. She was woman and girl at the same time. Experienced and innocent. Sweet and, now, ready to kill at a moment's notice. She was everything in one thing.

"Let's play two truths and a lie," she said.

"Hmhm?"

"We tell each other two truths about ourselves, and one lie, and the other person has to guess which is the lie."

"I ain't good at lyin'."

"Is that your first one? Because I already know that's a truth."

"Ain't my first one. This is a stupid game." He walked away to the edge of the tower. He glanced back and saw she was frowning. He didn't like it when she was upset, so he walked back again. "Fine. Ya go first."

She smiled. And there were those night moths again, trapped in the porch light of his stomach.