When The Bees Are Gone
by Alice Kent
[I suppose it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that I do not own any of the characters from The Walking Dead nor do I own The Walking Dead - it owns me. This story contains my own original character and if she resembles anyone it is only by coincidence.
This is the first chapter in this story that I plan for it to continue and grow for quite sometime. I have a hearty story line lined up to share so I put a lot of focus into the first chapter being about the two character's dynamic between each other as well as some background for my original character, Eleanor Gusin. So you could say this is a "getting to know you" chapter.
I hope you all enjoy and please share any compliments, complaints or concerns you may have. This is the first story I have devoted much time to in a long time and would love any positive and/or constructive criticism. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!]
- A. K.
It was hard to spot while going 60 MPH hours down the highway but if you were a local hunter, you knew less than a quarter of a mile pass an abandoned gas station a few miles from town was a dirt road swallowed from view by large, elderly pines that laced their branches together like the hands of a worried man. Even on nights when the moon appeared wide-eyed in the dark sky, only slivers of light pierced through the thick woods.
As the clay road winded and twisted deeper into the woods, smaller trials split like veins from a main artery, most lead to dead ends where hunters began their walk through overgrowth to set up tree stands.
At the heart of the woods was a forgotten pond that only deer and locals who had lived in the small town for years knew existed. It was a well kept secret from most of the out-of-town hunters and it meant to stay that way.
The trees stood tall, reaching for the generous amount of stars littering the sky and opened around the area, letting the moon lap at the still water. Its white light lingered off the trunks of healthy trees and sprinkled a top lime green fungus that coated the forest bed like a thick blanket. Crickets praised the cool air and bullfrogs grunted while a lone Whip-poor-will chanted relentlessly high above.
An old, beaten Ford truck sat tucked away in the shadows of the trees and the only light was a small, orange globe that pierced through the darkness like a pinhole shining through velvet.
The man behind the lit cigarette took a long drag from it, the light illuminating bright enough to touch his skin softly, cutting his face from the darkness momentarily before he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. It picked up in the small breeze, twirling and dancing in the moonlight.
"You know my birthday is next week?" The younger woman who sat beside him on the opened tailgate took a small sip of homemade blackberry moonshine from the mason jar the two had been sharing that evening.
Eleanor, who preferred not to be called Ellie, was still not completely comfortable with the chattering and mysterious sounds of undisturbed nature. A city dweller at heart, the country side had grown on her more like a scab. She was thankful to have solitude for time to think and heal but often more than not, she wished she could tear it away and find herself back in Atlanta - despite the consequences and pain she knew it would undoubtedly cause.
"Oh yeah? You gonna' be old enough to get your learner's permit yet?" The man beside her was Daryl Dixon, a local of the small town and the only person Eleanor considered as a friend. He was tough skinned and hard headed to boot and she liked that. He was nice enough to her and put up with her equally headstrong antics. Only knowing one another for less than a year, the friendship had not seemed hard to come by.
Eleanor tossed a glare his way, the darkness gulping it up. "Very funny, Dixon. Just because I didn't walk the Earth with you and the dinosaurs doesn't make me a child." She took another sip from the mason jar before handing it over.
Daryl smiled mischievously as he took the jar from her hand, his fingertips grazing hers. "Calm down, Ellie. It was a joke."
"Call me Ellie one more time and I'll make you eat your cigarette."
Daryl flicked on the small flashlight he had laid beside him, holding it under his face to cast dark, dramatic shadows against his lit face. "I'm so scared, Ellie." He mocked, chuckling as Eleanor shoved him hard, almost making him tip completely over on his side all while cursing his name.
He held the mason jar up high, making sure it didn't tilt with him. "Woah, now! Abuse me just not the alcohol." He sat up straight, shining the flashlight directly in her face, making her squint and hide behind a raised hand.
"Ass." He grumbled before turning the light off.
"I'll be twenty, actually," Eleanor defended, "I won't be a teenager anymore."
"Still a baby." Daryl tilted the jar to his lips and as their eyes had adjusted to the film of night, Eleanor watched him take a few large chugs that made her shiver and her expression sour.
Despite the badgering and sibling-like torment, if it hadn't been for meeting Daryl Dixon, Eleanor swore she would have tied rotted chicken around her neck and fed herself to alligators as soon as she arrived in the small town. In a town with only a blinking caution light and where opening a Subway is a topic of large discussion, there wasn't much hope of redemption in Eleanor Gusin's eyes.
Eleanor Gusin grew up in Atlanta, her father moving there as a teenager with his parents from Russia. Her mother was native to Atlanta, who owned a small Deli where she met Eleanor's father. Her mother gave birth to Eleanor prematurely, who she claimed was her "tiny miracle", only a year and a half later.
Eleanor was a smart girl but easily persuaded and easily bored. The first high school she attended had expelled her after hacking into the school's system from a Best Buy store to improve the grade letters of a couple of friends. It took the big mouth of a nervous friend to have Eleanor removed from the school. Although silently impressed, her parents "punished" her by enrolling her into a school on the outskirts of town that was more isolated with less students. They hoped that the teachers and staff would be able to give their daughter the attention and focus she deserved and needed to excel.
Always beautiful and unique, Eleanor shined like a diamond in the rut. Unfortunately, shining brightly against all others was not taken lightly with most of her peers that fit into the same old, dirty rut. With thick locks of dyed black hair she normally pinned back in a bandanna, her sharp features were never hidden. Her nose and chin came to sharp points, her lips thin yet pouty and her ice blue eyes were always sharp and alert. As a small baby, she grew only a few inches above five feet and remained very petite. Her father, a very blunt and headstrong man, adored his Eleanor and understood that his characteristics lived and breathed in his only daughter. She was quick-witted and always pushed back harder when shoved. What she lacked in size, she made up with ambition.
Yet attending a school full of denim and camo while dressed in dark clothing and heavy eyeliner with no tolerance for country music, her presence was immediately questioned and unwelcome. Quickly peers turned on her, despite Eleanor's feverish attempts to remain cordial and distant. She ignored all taunts with a bloody tongue until rumors began spreading through the school like an airborne virus. A group of bleached-blonde girls had viciously soiled Eleanor's name, claiming she had problems with keeping her legs closed around the boys, especially the odd ones.
As the chants of, "Whore Eleanor" became loud and deafening, her silence could no longer hold back her anger. Seeing red, Eleanor plotted and planned a way to get back at the kids who attempted to make her life a living hell.
Eleanor's Uncle lived in the country miles away from Atlanta and had been a beekeeper since Eleanor could remember. Her uncle had suited her up many times as a child and supervised and showed her how to handle the swarms of bees he kept on his property. He always gave her family fresh, local honey every Christmas. She became very knowledged about the handling of the bees and her Uncle often let her routinely check their hives, mostly alone.
Her Uncle had not realized the hives in his backyard had been disturbed until he received a phone call early that morning from Eleanor's father, who was so furious he battled between speaking in English and his own native tongue. Eleanor had chained and padlocked the two entries of the locker hall as students were in their homerooms. With the help of one of the "odd" boys she had "slept with", she managed to suction a large swarm of confused, annoyed bees into the hallway. As the bell rang and students began flooding into the hall, it wasn't long before the satisfying sounds of screams could be heard and the doors quaked as students panicked to escape.
Eleanor stood on the other side of the screams, grinning from ear to ear, savoring the sweet, honey taste of revenge.
Although multiple students and a teacher had been stung and it took quite sometime to remove all the bees, charges were contemplated but never filed. However the County decided that Eleanor had become too much of a disturbance and a liability to enroll her into another school.
It was the last straw for her parents. After a heated discussion, they decided it would be best for Eleanor to move in with her Aunt and Uncle. She could finish school there while helping her Uncle with work to repay for the loss of income he would have from the bees that were stolen. Eleanor graduated with a high GPA but even two years after finishing school, her parents had agreed that their daughter seemed to be thriving in the country and decided it would be best for her to remain there.
Eleanor was miserable. She enjoyed working with the bees and feeding the chickens her Aunt kept in a coop near the house but that was the extent of her social life. Bees and chickens weren't always very good company and they sure as hell never knew what to say.
Until one day she overhead her Aunt complaining about "those damned Dixon boys" that lived up the road. Apparently the youngest one, Daryl, was racing a lawn mower the two brothers had tweaked to remove the governor and gave it some extra boost and it was the loudest rumble Eleanor had heard from any vehicle.
Eleanor stood in her front yard and heard long before she saw the green John Deere lawn mower with the hood removed and a man, a few years older than her wearing a white tank top and tattered jeans, racing down their narrow street. One hand was on the steering wheel and the other gripped a half empty bottle of Kentucky Deluxe.
She could only shake her head, watching in dumbfounded awe as he zipped by her, whooping and yelling over the sound of the roaring engine. He disappeared over the hill, the grumbling engine lingering in the air.
There was a thin smile creeping on her face, having enjoyed the small moment of a thrill that cut through the mundane, yawning country neighborhood. Redneck or not, Eleanor felt a ping of jealousy at the fun the man seemed to be having with a lawnmower and too much time on his hands.
Soon the engine became louder once more and saw the green mower pop from over the hill. It sped back her way but man seemed to be losing control of the monster he had created, the wheels jerking across the asphalt. Eleanor jogged to the side of the road and made it just in time to see the Dixon brother put the lawnmower into a ditch across from her house.
She ran over and saw Daryl pulling himself off the mower, stumbling over his own feet while trying to crawl out of the muddy ditch.
"Good for nothin' piece of shit." he muttered, not realizing Eleanor was standing there as he turned to throw his now empty bottle of Kentucky Deluxe at the mower, the plastic bottle bouncing off the steering wheel.
"Are you okay?" Daryl turned at her voice, surprised to see her standing there. He wiped the mud and grass from his hands onto his jeans, nodding.
"Yeah, I'm good. Just had some, uh, problems with the mower."
Eleanor grinned, peering down at the mower with its front wheels dug firmly into the thick mud. "Seems like it had problems before you stuck it in that ditch, Earnhardt."
Daryl raised a brow, "What? Oh. . ." He coughed and chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, lawnmowers don't make for very good race cars, apparently."
"Still looked fun as hell." Eleanor glanced up at him, smiling.
Ever since that day, the two had become unseperatable. Most nights they spent drinking moonshine he and his brother Merle made while riding down dusty roads until the sun began to peek through the pines. The two used one another to escape their home lives and as an excuse not to return - and both of them were fine with that.
"You gonna' get me a present for my birthday?"
Daryl snorted a laugh, glancing over at her. "Just because it's your birthday don't make me not broke."
The young girl frowned, feeling a tinge of guilt for asking, even if playfully. Although Daryl refused to let her inside his childhood home when she accompanied him to pick up moonshine or grabbing any personal belongings, the garbage that littered the small yard and old car parts and junk that piled up screamed poverty. Daryl's only income was the moonshine that him and Merel sold and whatever else they could sell to bring a profit. Eleanor had never bothered to ask when Daryl and Merel would suddenly had to leave to run "something" to "someone".
"You don't have to buy me anything." She rung her hands together, the cold edge of the air nipping at her fingertips. The moonshine helped to curve most of the chill.
"I'll buy you a cupcake." Daryl took the last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into the air, the orange glow spinning upwards before plopping into a small bed of wet leaves.
"A cupcake?"
"Yeah. Girls like cupcakes, right? It's cake and it's small. So it's like, ya know, cute or whatever."
Eleanor stared at him deadpanned for a moment before rolling her eyes, not quite amused with his logic. There was a pause between the two while the crickets and frogs did their best to fill the void.
Daryl heard a small gasp from beside him and it jolted him, putting him on alert.
"I know what we should do. We should go out!" Eleanor exclaimed, turning her body towards him to express her sincerity. "I'll have a little bit of money. Let's ditch this hellhole for a night and go out."
"Fine," Daryl leaned back until he was lying flatly in the bed of his truck with his feet still dangling off the tailgate. "I'll let you eat your cupcake outside."
There was a pause once more than enveloped the night air until Daryl heard a small, intoxicated giggle followed by a firm smack on his stomach that made his body cringe and tense up.
"That's not what I meant, you asshole."
"So ungrateful." Daryl moaned. Eleanor fell back beside him, resting her head on her hand as she stared up at the stars that twinkled above them. She peered over at Daryl, who kept his eyes towards the sky.
"We'll do something for your birthday, if that's what you want." Daryl clarified, never taking his eyes from the stars. Eleanor turned her eyes up once more, sighing contently. It was nights like this when she never wanted to return home, even to Atlanta. In these moments under the night sky, with moonshine warming her bones and nature singing lullabies while having her one and only friend at her side, she wished the Sun would sleep in for once.