"Home was a dream, one that I'd never seen, until you came along." - Jason Isbell
"The wound is the place where the light enters you." - Rumi
[*]
A/N:This is a sequel to "Things Fall Apart." It's not necessary to have read that to understand this, but it may help with some background. I am in the process of editing this story after a few changes and chapter combinations, so the reviews you see probably won't match up with the chapter numbering, and you may see the chapter number "skip." Rest assured the story is all there, but the site doesn't automatically update chapter numbers when you delete or insert chapters.
[*]
"Mhmm, mhmmm, mhmmm!" Merle murmured. "What a lovely pair of tits on that blondie!"
Daryl and Merle were lying stomach down at the edge of the woods on an overlook across from the quarry. There appeared to be a sizable camp established there. The Dixon brothers were trying to stay masked by the foliage, because there was some old man sitting on top of his RV, keeping watch.
"Let me see," Daryl insisted. He motioned for the binoculars, but Merle didn't give them up.
"Oh, hello! Blondie's got a sister!" Merle cried. "I'll leave the little sister to you, little brother. Though I ain't sure she's legal." He looked in silence a moment longer and said, "Nah. On second look, she's gotta be twenty somethin'."
Merle handed the binoculars to Daryl, who scanned over the camp. "Ain't like they gonna wantus," Daryl said. "Plenty of men in that camp."
"Oh, brother, c'mon. You know every woman wants a piece of the Merle."
Daryl snorted. "Don't think their daddy is gonna take kindly to you comin' on to 'em."
"They got a daddy?"
"Yeah. The geezer with the stupid hat. They just went inside his RV. Reckon he's daddy."
Merle grabbed the binoculars back. "Thatisa decent RV. Bet that would get us to Kentucky in style."
"Hell we want to go to Kentucky for?" Daryl asked.
"Bourbon trail, brother! Always wanted to do it. Now seems like the time. Doubt people have looted all those distilleries. They're spread all over the place."
"Hmmm," Daryl murmured. It didn't sound like a bad idea. He'd really liked that Blanton's Merle had pilfered yesterday. And it was something to do. An adventure. Something other than sitting around in a cabin waiting for the world to finish ending.
"Have to steal it when they's not in it," Merle reasoned.
"We's gonna steal the RV?" Daryl asked.
"Well I doubt the old man's gonna sell it to us. And what we got to buy it with? Might as well rob the whole damn camp while we's at it."
"I don't know, Merle."
"Christ, Daryl. Where'd this sensitive conscience come from all the sudden? The world's gone to shit, and yer just now findin' Jesus?"
Daryl toyed with a twig on the ground where they lay. "Dunno. I just ain't never robbed no one before."
"We robbed Darlene."
The twig snapped between Daryl's fingers. He didn't like to be reminded that he'd gone along with that.
"And, hell, we used to rob Uncle Sam." Merle reached over and slapped his shoulder.
"That don't count," Daryl said. In the late 90s, they'd applied for food stamps, without reporting their full incomes, seeing as they were paid in cash. And when they got the food stamps, they used them to buy soda at the KMart. Then they'd sold the soda at half the price for cash to Johnny Lee Miller to mark up and resell in his convenience store. "That ain't the same as what yer suggestin' we do here."
"Jesus, Daryl," Merle said. "Is this 'cause Nana made you go to that one Vacation Bible School when you was five?"
"Just don't seem right, robbin' the whole damn camp. They got women and children, man!"
Merle moved the binoculars back and forth. "Yeah, you're right. They do have kids. Tell you what. We'll just take the RV and the cigarettes andsomeof the ammo. Extra rifle maybe. Leave the rest. They got plenty of shit. They'll manage."
"A'ight," Daryl agreed reluctantly. "But no one gets hurt. We wait 'til they's sleepin' or somethin'."
"We wait longer than that. Got to get the lay of the land. Know what I'm sayin'?" Merle pretended to hump the ground.
"How we even gonna get 'em to take us in?" Daryl asked.
"Seems like they's takin' in anyone," Merle reasoned. He peered through the binoculars again. "Hell, they even got a chink."
Daryl took the binoculars and saw the Asian kid in the baseball cap. "Try not to call 'em a chink when we roll in." He surveyed the camp for a while longer. "If we's gonna steal some shit, we got to do it whenthatguy's not 'round." He handed the binoculars to his brother. "The one with the black hair."
"Yeah," Merle agreed. "He walks like a cop. Holds himself like one, too." Merle chuckled. "Awww…but he's got an Achilles's heel."
"Yeah what's that?"
Merle licked his lips. "Right now, he's sneakin' off into them woods with some honey."
"You can see all the way into them woods over there? Does that mean the geezer can see us?"
"Nah, we's better masked," Merle said. "And that geezer ain't got eyes in all directions. They got shit security in this camp. Herd of geeks could burst in the back right now, overrun the camp, they wouldn't even notice 'til they's bein' eaten alive. Bunch of dumb asses down there." He fell silent and watched intently through the binoculars.
"What's going on?" Daryl asked.
"They's fuckin'. Why? Ya want a peep? Cain't see much of her, unfortunately. Mostly his ass, but I bet you'd like that."
"Jesus, Merle." Daryl took the binoculars. "Stop bein' a perv." He scoured the camp again.
"Yer checkin' out his ass, ain't ya?"
"I'm countin' the people in the goddamn camp! There's 'bout thirty, 'cludin women and children. And there's two other big guys 'sides the cop."
The binoculars smacked Daryl's nose as Merle yanked them away to take a gander at the camp. "The nigger and the spic, ya mean?"
"Try not to call 'em that when we roll into camp."
"There's another one. A big white guy with an old lady for a wife." Merle handed over the binoculars.
"She ain't old. She just has gray hair. That girl of hers can't be more'n twelve." Daryl inched a little closer to the edge of the and narrowed his eyes. The girl looked familiar somehow. "Well shit!"
"What?"
"Nothin'," Daryl muttered. It was just that the girl looked an awful lot like the girl in the photos he'd found in the cabin.
[*]
Ed was in a rage. He insisted Carol had been laughing at him behind his back this morning, when she'd been cleaning the grill with Jacqui. Really, she'd only been laughing at some affectionate joke Jacqui had made about T-Dog. That shared moment of comradery had felt good. Carol couldn't remember the last time she'd had girlfriends. When she was twenty-one, maybe, and she still worked as a secretary, and gossiped with the other office girls, before Ed insisted she quit her job.
"It had nothing to do with you, Ed, I swear." She threw her eyes toward Sophia, to remind him that she was right there. Carol nodded in the distance, to indicate she should go, but Sophia shook her head slightly.
"Giggling like goddamn school girls!" Ed roared. He seized Carol by the wrist. She shrank beneath his grip. He hadn't hit her since they'd settled in this camp. She'd hoped maybe that was over, that all these too-near neighbors had deterred him. But there was no pair of eyes on them now. Everyone in the camp was busy. "Slap that laughter out of you!"
The back of Ed's hand met with Carol's face, and her head snapped back. Sophia gasped. Carol braced herself for the second blow, but it didn't come. Ed glanced around, as though to make sure he hadn't been seen. "That'll learn you," he muttered. "Now finish hanging my damn laundry!" He disappeared inside their tent.
Carol touched her cheek lightly with one hand. "Go find Carl and play, sweetie," she told Sophia, feeling ashamed that she'd allowed Sophia to witness that.
Sophia ran off, and Carol went back to work.
[*]
"That guy ain't gonna be no problem for us," Daryl said through clenched teeth as he watched Carol return to hanging the laundry. "He don't know how to pick on someone his own size."
Daryl and Merle crawled back into the trees, where they stood up and brushed off the debris that clung to their shirts. They started heading down the wooded hill to the alcove where they'd hidden the motorcycle. Daryl stopped, sniffed the air, disturbed the ground with his foot, and then looked around.
Merle slowed to a stop a few feet ahead of him and turned back. "What?"
"We cain't just waltz in there and expect 'em to welcome us."
"Well, I'll turn on the famous Dixon charm."
Daryl unshouldered his crossbow and checked to make sure it was properly loaded. "I'm thinkin' maybe we should bring a peace offerin'."
"Yeah? Like what?"
Daryl put his left foot forward a few inches and nodded down to the toe of his boot. Merle followed his gaze to the spot where the hoof of a deer had pressed into the slightly damp earth.
Merle grinned. "Oh yeah, little brother. They probably haven't eaten real meat in days."
Daryl smiled and began following the trail. Merle, falling in step beside him, said, "Bet those two sisters are gonna be grateful for a little venison steak, huh?" He winked and laughed. "Looks like the Dixon brothers are gettin' laid tonight!"
"Merle, we ain't tradin' venison for pussy. That's a camp of families over there. Not a brothel."
"I know that, little brother. We gonna give the deer to 'em as a gift. Pure and free and clear! A peace offerin'. I get it. But I wouldn't be a'tall surprised if those ladies wanted to give us a littlepieceofferin' right back."
Daryl shook his head and returned his attention to the trail.
[*]
They'd been tracking the deer for three hours when Merle suggested they give up and snag a few squirrels instead.
"Cain't give up yet," Daryl said. "I can smell it now."
Merle chuckled dryly. "The student has become the master. Is that what you think?"
Thatwaswhat Daryl thought. Merle may have been the first one to teach him to hunt, but he'd been a better hunter than his big brother for at least ten years. Daryl didn't dare say that, though. Instead, he said, "Give me one more hour."
"Got to hit this camp before chow time, baby brother."
Daryl ignored him and walked on, his intense, blue eyes sweeping the ground for sign.
[*]
It took two arrows and a half mile chase to bring the deer down. The brothers field dressed it and then tied its legs together to make it easier to carry. Daryl slung the deer over his shoulders, around his neck, and bore its heavy weight until they reached the spot where Merle's bike was hidden.
Merle uncovered his chopper, and they draped the deer over the seat. While Merle rolled the bike toward the camp, with his rifle on one shoulder, Daryl carried the backpack and his crossbow.
"Let me do the talkin'," Merle insisted. "You're liable to scare 'em."
"Me?" Daryl asked. "Yer face ain't exactly a welcome mat neither."
"I got me a way with words, though."
The front tire of Merle's bike crunched over twigs as the Dixon brothers emerged from the forest into the clearing where the tents were scattered. They were met by four rifles in the hands of four men – the one they had assumed was a cop, the bald black guy, the geezer, and the large Hispanic.
"Well ain't this a friendly greetin'!" Merle kicked the stand down on his motorcycle and leaned it on its side. "And all we got to offer is the best damn dinner any of y'all have had in days!"
Daryl took the deer off the bike and threw it on the ground at the men's feet. They all took one step back.
The black-haired man nodded at the others, who put up their guns against their shoulders, though he kept his own leveled.
"I'm Merle Dixon, and this here's my brother Daryl." Merle looked at the black-haired man. "You the big man on campus?"
The man introduced himself: "Shane Walsh."
"Where did y'all come from?" Shane asked.
"We come from the hills, like saviors descendin' from on high." Merle gestured to the deer. "Bearin' gifts to the commoners."
Daryl wasn't sure Merle's little speech was the best approach. "Look," he said to the men. "Just want to camp with y'all. We can pull our own weight. Hunt."
"Give us a moment." Shane turned with bowed head. The men huddled like football players, whispering among themselves. When they broke, Shane said, "You can stay with us, but for the first couple of days, you'll need to hand over your weapons, until we're sure you're trustworthy."
"Fuck that," Merle said. "C'mon, little brother."
Daryl squatted, plucked up the deer, and slung it over his shoulders. Merle kicked up the stand of his bike, turned it around, and began rolling it away. They'd walked only a few steps when Shane called, "Hold up!" Merle gave Daryl a knowing, self-satisfied look, and the Dixon brothers turned.
"You're new to us," Shane said. "Surely you can understand our concern about the weapons."
"In this world," Merle replied, "the dead walk and eat the livin'. Surelyyoucan understandourconcern 'bout the weapons."
"'Sides, how in the hell ya expect us to hunt without 'em?" Daryl asked.
The men huddled again. It was the black man, who introduced himself as T-Dog, who delivered the small council's verdict. "You can stay with us. You can keep your rifle and crossbow."
Merle didn't mention he also had a handgun as he leaned his bike on its stand once again. "Well ain't that mighty white of you," he said.
T-Dog narrowed his eyes and his nostrils flared.
"How'd ya get a name like T-Dog anyhow?" Merle asked. "You give that name to yourself? Reckon you did. A ni – " Daryl shot Merle a warning look, and he shifted gears: "…A nifty black man such as yourself must have some interestin' ideas for names."
"It's a nickname. Real name's Theodore."
"Theodore," Merle repeated with a disdainful chuckle. "Hell, I'd go by T-Dog, too."
Shane introduced the other two armed men as Morales and Dale and then said, "Don't be offended if we keep a close eye on your for a while. Until you get settled in with us."
Despite the fact that he was intending to steal some of their things, Daryl found himself resenting their assumption that he was untrustworthy. Their distrust rankled him, but he was also irritated with himself for being irritated. He cursed himself with the thought that he was a hypocrite like his daddy, who had taken disability for a fake injury for ten years, all the while bitching about inner city welfare queens.
A woman approached curiously and cautiously and stopped just beside Dale.
"Hello, blondie!" Merle called, winking at her. "What's your name, darlin'?"
"Andrea," she said. "And don't call me blondie. Or darling."
"Sure thing, blondie."
Dale took a protective step in front of her and went back to holding his rifle in both hands, though he didn't point it. By now, half the camp had gathered around out of curiosity, and Shane began introducing him.
"This is Carol," he said, gesturing to the gray-haired woman. "Her husband Ed and their daughter Sophia."
Sophia peered around her mother. Daryl studied the freckled girl. She quickly turned her face and buried it in her mother's shirt. Sophia was definitely the girl in the photos in the cabin.
Next Daryl looked at Carol, who immediately cast her eyes to the ground. She was a mouse of a woman, and Daryl felt a sudden jolt of disdain for her, for letting that man do to her - and possibly to their daughter - whatever it was she let him do.
Daryl supposed it wasn't any of his business how a woman let her husband treat her. But if this Ed asshole was beating the little girl too, and Daryl eversawhim do it, well, that man was going to get the thrashing of his life. He hadn't been able to defend himself against his own father at that age, but he could sure as hell defend this girl against hers. He narrowed his eyes at Ed, who returned his gaze with equal distaste.
Another woman emerged beside Andrea. "I'm Amy," she said. "Andrea's sister."
Merle flashed his smile at her. "Well what ya know," he said, "a couple of brothers and a couple of sisters."
Dale frowned sternly in Merle's direction, while Andrea rolled her eyes and Amy appeared nervous.
The Asian kid who was lingering nearby raised his hand and grinned dopishly. "I'm Glenn."
"Glenn?" Merle asked. "Strange name for a Chinaman."
"I'm Korean, actually."
When the rest of the camp was introduced, Shane said to Morales, "Why don't you show the Dixon brothers where they can camp? And get them that extra tent and the two sleeping bags. It doesn't look like they have any camping gear."
The brothers staked out their spot on the campground and dropped their gear in a pile. Morales brought them the tent and sleeping bags and then went on his way.
They looked at the tent that was rolled in a blue bag. "Pup tent," Merle muttered. "Reckon that barely sleeps two. Ya want to get that cozy?"
"No."
"Good. Neither do I. Tent's are for pussies anyhow, less it's rainin'." Merle looked at the sleeping bags. "Least they gave us grown-up ones."
Shane strolled over with his rifle held loosely in his right hand. "A couple of the women are going to prepare the deer. They don't know how to skin and cut it though. Will you help?"
"Andrea one of those women?" Merle asked.
"Andrea's busy washing the camp plates."
"Hmmm..." Merle mused. "Think I might go help with that. Daryl'll be happy to butcher that deer, won't ya, brother?"
It didn't seem he had much choice. "Sure," he said and followed Shane toward the camp fire pit.