Disclaimer: Muhahahaha! - clearly this is my way of expressing the insanity I will use as my number one defense when AMC drags me to court! I don't own them people, even after 600 pages…drats! O_o
Notes: If you opened this story and have not read "Occasio Ultima" then: STOP! Back away from this story or you will blow the huge surprise in that one! Don't Do it! Seriously; that's like jumping into the movie half-way through; you'll be mucho confused! :D Go read OU first, the rest of us will wait, I promise.
To those of you who have been waiting: IT'S BACK! Here's the Preface! Which really should be Chapter One…but it's not…so yeah…that will make uploading future chapters…interesting… :P
Read/Review/PM all feedback is loved and appreciated! You guys are awesome! : )
Preface
(Daryl's POV)
It's too fucking late for Carl to get away.
He realizes it the same instant Rick does. Makes a desperate grab for his best friend's arm, pinning him to the rooftop of the camper with his body desperately locking his arms around Rick's chest; over his arms so he can't take a swing at Daryl trying to get away. Effectively stopping his best friend from being able to do anything more than emit tortured screams for his only son to run even though he has to know it's no use. They've all seen this story play out too many times.
But not Carl. God why does it have to be Carl?
The Walkers on the overpass are gathered around the camper's walls now drawn by the noise and movement. They paw and swipe hands making grabs at empty air not quite close enough to their ankles to present any real danger; unless Rick gets away from him and makes it off this damn roof.
And there's nothing he can do. It claws at him rips him open exposing raw nerves attached to the memories of everyone they've ever lost this way.
There's nothing she can do beside him still screaming into that damn Walkie Talkie like it will make a difference; but it won't. They're all helpless to do anything now but watch and pray that maybe it will be quick at least, maybe there will be that mercy.
God it tears him up inside listening to Rick scream, because now he knows all to well the feelings that go hand-in-hand with that sound- because he felt the same way the night he thought he'd lost Seraphim to that horde below the porch.
Only this time it doesn't look like there will be any miracle acts of God.
Carl has been a little brother to him for years—losing him is going to rip a gaping hole in his chest. One more impossible pain for them to all struggle through. One more big fucking empty hole in their lives that never goes away and Fuck this God Damn cruel world they live in; he's sick of this shit! Just how much more of this can they really take before they all crack? Losing Lori nearly took Rick down, Daryl's not sure his friend will survive the death of his son.
The Walkers are everywhere now, thick as a living river; pouring out of the trees, ambling up the road; blocking him in between the cars—and there's too many of them. He's got no way out. Nowhere to hide that they can't overwhelm; break through reaching him with so many gathered now. Daryl's not positive that if they don't make it back to the truck in the next few seconds and get the Hell out of here that they won't be trapped on this roof until they tear the camper apart to reach them; they need to run or they might die here too…
Rick screams in agony and he tightens his grip over his chest desperate to keep him on the rooftop; out of their waiting eager outstretched hands. He needs to keep Rick alive; they can't lose him too. Judith needs him; they all do.
Daryl's all but holding Rick's full weight; when Rick goes down to his knees his legs giving out he drags Daryl down to the hot rusted metal rooftop with him...
Rick is screaming but it's not words anymore… they're both screaming… he realizes as the pain floods his chest slams into his lungs on the next inhale.
Carl starts shooting at the Walkers pressing in against him, and it won't help; only draws the remaining ones closer frenzied by the loud sound…
Carl goes down.
Rick's anguished roars echoes off the trees, reverberates through his skull in a deafening wounded cry of pain like he's the one dying down on the pavement. The tortured sound the very soul of a man makes when he's powerless once more to do anything but stand by and lose another person he loves.
Just listening to the sound is too much to bear. His chest constricts, locks around the scream trying to make it out of his throat choking him.
At first he barely registers that she's grabbing his shoulder in her hand; her grip bruising tight against his collarbone finally drawing his attention.
He wants to raise his arm; press his hand over hers to try and tell her it will be okay; reassure her even though they both know it won't be okay; not with them losing Carl.
But he can't let go of Rick without losing him too...
She leans into him presses three words to his ear, lips brushing his skin as she speaks in the minute space between Rick's tortured screams. He identifies the words even as his brain trips over them, stumbling to grasp why she'd tell him now. Those three powerful words fill his head expanding to drown out everything else around them for one heart stopping moment…
"I love you."
Then she physically stops his heart; rips it from his chest with a sharp cry, his hand snapping out to grab her arm; stop her leaping off the fucking roof because she's lost her god damn mind, and he's too late…she's gone, running away from them past the Walkers…
Rick tries to grab her too jerking forward hand closing over empty air nearly pulling them both down. Daryl has to yank him back out of their grasp, nearly losing him off the front of the camper; all the while screaming for her to Stop!
But she's not stopping; she's running toward the concrete wall separating the overpass from the empty air over the horde below.
And then without having to say a damn thing he's letting Rick go and they're both taking out the Walkers pressed against the camper's edge. Eliminating them one by one with guns and bows noises be damned and he registers the car arriving from up the highway out of the corner of his eye; Michonne and Tyreese leaping out racing towards them. He gestures wildly at them; hoping to communicate his message to them since they're closer; not pinned in by twenty Walkers…
Michonne is already halfway through the sword arc taking down the three closest dead stumbling toward her the second she clears the vehicle. Tyreese right behind her back his machete in hand raised to strike.
Michonne runs towards Fin trying to intercept her when she finally hears him yell at her to "Stop Fin!" They've got tostop her before she can do what he knows with the horrifying awful certainty flooding his gut she's about to do because she's so stubborn and stupid when it comes to family, and God Damn she always told him she didn't have a death wish but he knows she does because she's vaulting over the wall into empty air without pause and she's gone.
He's leaping down the ladder off the Camper roof; Rick right behind him while he takes out two more Walkers with arrows he yanks out a second later passing them pounding his feet across the asphalt to the half wall overlooking the underpass and the seething mass of bodies below.
Rick is yelling at Michonne now who's just as crazy as Fin is. She's about to go over the edge and follow her when Rick grabs her belt pulls her back down wrapping an arm around her waist to stop her from following on a complete suicide mission.
Daryl's focus is already on Fin racing over the top of the cars below them; leaping from roof to roof before jumping to the ground between the heavy press of bodies.
She's still running full out not even sparing a glance for their lunging outstretched hands and now it's Rick and Tyreese holding him back while he curses and swears and raises his crossbow before dropping it again because the shot is too fucking far away and there's nothing he can do from this distance but watch her die trying to save Carl's body.
Because that's all it will be at this point and God Damn if he's not going to climb over this wall even if he has to drag Tyreese and Rick and Michonne with him…
He can't just stand here and watch her slam into Walkers left and right while she runs knocking them down so she can keep running towards where Carl fell mere moments before. They might not be able to grab her now with her running; but he knows when she gets there, when she stops to grab Carl or whatever it is she thinks she's doing: they're going to be too much. They're going to grab her then: and she's not even drawing her bow, doesn't even have her knife out…
He can't watch; and can't look away at the same time hearing Rick curse beside him and Michonne yelling at Rick to let her go so she can help because both girls are fucking insane. Daryl's not sure if it's shock keeping him frozen on the overpass now or Tyreese's hold over both his arms…he just cant move.
She jumps straight into one of them slamming them both down to the ground. And then she's spinning to the side leaping over another one knee smashing into its face driving that one down to the ground again like it's some fucking game and she's sparing with Luke and Chris instead of barely escaping the grasp of a hundred fucking Walkers all trying to grab her at once while he can't do anything from here but curse and watch.
She's scrambling up again, kicking out catching the one trying to snatch her leg in the face stilling it's movement. And she just keeps running. Drops to the ground and rolls knocking into the legs of two directly in her path before they can swipe their arms at her grab her and bite. Their forward stumbling motion as they trip over her tiny frame rolling over the ground sends them jerking and flailing onto their faces while she's already up behind their backs and running again.
She's screaming for someone, he can't make out the name from here with the snarling mass below them; but it doesn't sound like his name or Carl's from what he catches on the wind. Maybe it's not a name at all; maybe it's not even her…
And she's finally pulling out her Machete he notes;slamming the blade through the skull of the first Walker in her reach. She kicks out at the next, shoving it back from where Carl's body fell against the vehicle door he tried to escape inside of only to find it locked against his back.
She's smashing and slicing and then she's just standing there staring down at him not moving, and he can only imagine the horror she's seeing while Rick sobs next to him great heaving racking sobs while Michonne tries to hold back her own sobs arms wrapped around Rick's shoulders holding him up.
Fin's kneeling down and he can't see her behind the other vehicle blocking his view but he's noticing something else. Something he should have picked up on the second she stopped moving… she should have been devoured by them…
But she wasn't. Isn't…They're not moving... and that can't be right; can't be what he's seeing because that doesn't make any sense at all.
"Guys! Why aren't they attacking?" He's not the only one who's noticed, he isn't imagining it because Tyreese sees it too and now Rick and Michonne are paying attention again.
They're all watching as she reappears between the cars, standing back up with Carl's heavy form draped against hers.
And the Walkers still aren't moving closer…
"No Fucking way…" Michonne is shaking her head in disbelief. She's the only one he knows who's pulled off anything even remotely like that.
But Fin's not using Walkers for cover: she's not using anything.
Carl is obviously wounded, bleeding should be drawing them into a frenzy with the scent…
"How…how…" Rick can't even finish and he wouldn't have an answer anyway. All he can do is watch dumbstruck while she half drags Carl through the Walkers like it's nothing. She helps him shuffle towards one of the vehicles. The dead back away as they move, closing in around them both until they're encircling them in a loose ring, never moving closer to them.
She's trying the back door with one hand, still supporting Carl with her other arm. She moves to the side, shuffles Carl around to sit on the back seat. She straightens back up pulling that ridiculous long sleeve tee over her head she insists on wearing even in this good awful heat. She's wrapping it around Carl's neck, must be covering a bite.
They're obviously saying something, arguing about something with the way she waves her hands between them while Carl sits half in and half out of the back seat like the Dead aren't pressed in all around them and she doesn't even bother to turn and look at them standing not three feet from her unprotected back…
She's shutting the back door after Carl slides into the car; circling to the driver side door without looking back at them. He presses his hands to his mouth funneling his voice down over their heads frantic to reach her, figure out what the hell she's doing; where the hell she thinks she's going; and how the fuck she's doing that…
"Seraphim!"
She freezes mid-step, still not looking up; just keeps staring down at the ground in front of her feet wavering like she's struggling with whatever she's about to do next…or like she just remembered they were up here at all… She doesn't turn her head. She just keeps walking around the front of the car she put Carl in; opening the front door and climbing into the driver seat.
And why wouldn't she look up at him unless…His heart stops in his chest, blood running cold.
She said she loved him
It was supposed to be her goodbye.
The car must start because she's pulling forward in it and the Walkers are backing out of her way; not slamming their hands into the hood or beating on the glass like they should be doing if it was any of them driving through that mess and it still doesn't make any sense…
She pulls forward until there's too many cars crisscrossed over the road; too deep a ditch on either side to navigate. She's throwing the door open; smashing it's edge into a shuffling Walker. Kicking out in obvious frustration at one that gets in her way and instead of charging back at her it stumbles into the others staggers back to its feet maintaining its distance…
"Seriously! How the Fuck is she doing that?!" Tyreese is leaned against the wall shaking his head in total disbelief, no longer bothering to keep Daryl from jumping down there; they're all in too much shock to move.
"You're seeing this too right, I'm not standing here losing my mind?"
"If you are, then we all are." Michonne's tone is low, carefully guarded. One of her hands still locked tight around Rick's upper arm keeping him from doing something stupid like leaping over the edge trying to get to Carl. Rick's hand is still on her maybe for the same reason, trying to keep each other grounded; alive.
He can't speak, can't even breathe all he can do is watch her move through the Walkers, pull open the car door blocking her immediate path and lean into it; obviously shifting it into neutral.
She's trying to shove it off the road, pushing at its bumper before lashing out at its heavy weight kicking the door, hands clenched at her sides screaming wordless outrage that echoes off the trees all around them must carry for miles over the hills.
Not that it seems to matter for her; they all turn towards the sound but don't move beyond that even an inch. She's all but invisible screaming and punching out at the glass on the vehicles backdoor before twisting and pressing her back against the car's side.
She bends double pressing her hands to her knees then over her face pulling in great gasps of air; he can't tell if she's crying from here but now they're moving and he's about to scream a warning hears Rick open his mouth to do the same before they can grab her tear her apart. Whatever weird lull they were previously under now appears to have gone as they surge forward at once…
Except they're not grabbing her…
They press against the side and front of the car; pushing it en mass backwards right out from behind her back. She slips off the smooth pollen coated metal of the back panel before landing on the asphalt; twisting around and crawling backward from the now rolling car. She jerks herself up off the pavement and just stares at them back rigid, frozen to the hot asphalt as immobile as stone.
She drops her chin holding her hands out in front of her like she's never seen them before this moment. Turns her head slowly to stare at the car now completely off the road, it's back axles rolled right into the grassy ditch.
She raises her arm slowly, hesitantly like she can't believe it herself; points to the second vehicle. And all but leaps backward bending double visibly shaken when they move toward that one the second she does it, like she's going to be sick maybe; except instead of puking she screams.
The sound rivals Rick's cry for Carl, and Lori… reminds him of Carol's tortured plea's for Sophia on another hot summer day that still haunts him.
It's the sound she made in her nightmares on that first night so long ago when he first woke heart pounding, jerked from sleep certain she was an inch from death and calling to him to save her… it's pain and agony and fear clawing out of her while she drops to the pavement; just collapses surrounded by them not caring. She's slamming her fists repeatedly into the searing hot surface baking in the unrelenting sun beating down on them.
Then she stops, jerks herself up off the ground and just turns her back to them silently climbing back into the car like it never happened. Pulling herself back together with that iron will that still amazes him. They watch her silently continue pulling forward into the now cleared space on the road.
And they just Keep moving cars…the rest of them aren't even traveling through the trees; they've stopped sifting through the scattered abandoned vehicles left untouched on the pavement; and it isn't real; Tyreese is right it can't be.
Even though he knows it is.
This is how she survived alone.
This is how she could be unharmed falling off that roof that horrifying night at the Peacock farm when he thought he'd lost her yet again.
'I don't have a death wish I swear.'
She'd jumped into a mass of Walkers with only a knife after Chris…and it's only now he realizes as the air rushes from his lungs so fast and hard it's like a kick to the gut.
She really meant it: she was never in any danger…not once…
and she couldn't tell him?!
He wheezes trying to draw air into his seizing lungs, leaning heavily against the wall trying to fight the black film swimming over his vision Rick's hand coming up on his back to support him; keep him upright.
She was safe, the whole time.
He was never in danger of losing her like that.
Nearly tore himself apart with grief and worry and she never bothered to tell him…
What the Hell?!
The vehicle stops at the edge of the crowd; even though she could keep driving and he thinks for a split second that she's coming back for them—is going to get them off the overpass…
But that doesn't make any sense… he calls to her again just her name shouted over the muted crowd gathered below them by the hundreds; maybe thousands desperate to get her attention; for her to acknowledge him in some small way…
And Michonne is pulling at Rick's arm telling them they should go now before whatever compulsion she's got them under is gone…but her words just stop mid-sentence.
No one moves.
He can't even hear them breathing next to him.
Because the crowd is moving again.
But not towards the sound of his anguished call of her name; or towards her.
They're shifting; melting into one another converging and slamming into their own ranks like some medieval war movie between two converging barbarian armies. Their arms raised violently slashing and tearing like he's never seen them do before; because they don't move that fast; they never have... and it's her…she's doing it.
Somehow; she's killing them all.
And it all makes sense.
Horrible perfect sense now he can see it all in retrospect; in perfect clarity… Even from the very beginning from Rick's three questions it was there, the truth: How many Walkers have you killed?
'I don't count'
She saved Carl from the Walkers in the woods that day; lead them away so he wouldn't see what she was doing…Rolling off the roof at the Peacock farm into their waiting hands... Killing the dead around them as they moved to keep them safe even when she was hurt; because she wasn't in danger at least not from them…
The warehouse…
Splitting up and hunting alone…
She was hiding it the whole time…
The Walkers rip and shred and yank skin off limbs blindly lashing and clawing and teeth snapping at necks and fingers tearing at soft easily punctured bellies and the smell…beside him Michonne gags as it reaches them. The hot wafting perfume overwhelms his senses; tears his eyes and clogs his throat, it's the scent of bile; of putrid, decaying death. It rises like a heat wave off the stove-hot asphalt while the bodies below them thrash and flail as if the broiling heat under the sun is boiling as they fall; first one by one; then in great droves.
It sweeps through them whatever this new madness is turning them into a rolling massive wave of frenzied chaos that exists only to destroy every Walker in its path… and she just stands there nothing more than a pale outline against the faded blacktop in the distance. When the last ones are falling to the ground too broken and split to stagger back up she falls; crumples to the ground.
Landing heavily on her knees and hands outline jerking and seizing in a way that hints at emptying her stomach onto the steaming concrete between her palms. She raises her head finally, he can only tell because the pale oval of her face replaces the bright auburn ring of hair shining in the sunlight as she lifts her chin, stares at the Walkers between them on the asphalt; hundreds of bodies ripped limb from limb; teeth snapping where they've fallen over mouthfuls of nothing but empty air; the threat they posed moments before all but destroyed.
It's one Hell of a way to find out that she's fucking Super Woman.
She twists her head back towards the stopped car where Carl is still hidden from sight.
Turns her pale face back to look towards them again for only a moment and then she's climbing to her feet; looking unsteady and shaken even from this distance as she moves back to the driver's side door still sitting ajar from where she jumped out moments before.
She slams it closed behind her never glancing back. The sound echoes in the hills; punches him in the gut with the finality of it.
None of them speak or move; like the soles of their shoes have fused into the asphalt, the shock of what they've all witnessed but are still struggling to believe has melted away their ability to form words.
Without the snarling of the Walkers and the scraping slide of hundreds of shuffling feet over the pavement around them he can hear the cicadas' again. Their ever present buzzing hum presses in his ears; fills the empty spaces between the surrounding trees, floats through the hot air. The leaves around them rustle with the first hint of a breeze they've had all damn day.
It should offer him some relief; it moves his hair growing stronger, even in this first gust quickly gathering strength. It's caress still too warm tickles the sweat dripping down the back of his neck to soak into his collar already pressed flat and wet against his skin.
Thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance, the sound slinks over the hills creeps into the hot spaces between the trees; curls around their trunks and into the small patches of shade pressed tight under the tree line because even the shade wants to hide from the wretched broiling sun.
The first fat drop hits the pavement sizzling and sending up a plum of steam evaporating the moment it hits like butter dancing on a hot skillet.
Only in Georgia can the sky fall before the sun stops trying to roast you alive. Liquid sunshine Merle called it he recalls briefly as more drops fall; strike his neck over his collar; bead and then roll down the back of his hands still pressed to the wall before them. Heavy black clouds are just starting to pitch and roll across the sky.
He still can't breathe, can't move from the wall just watching her drive away.
All around him Summer finally breaks. The scorched ground hisses greedily gulping down the thick rain pelting his back. Michonne and Tyreese are trying to drag them back to the car before they have to swim. But he doesn't care. He's already drowning.
Cascading droplets pull the heat from his skin, water drips from the tips of his hair plastering too long bangs in disordered spikes against his forehead and chin; the drops run into his eyes threatening to blind him. He's soaked in moments the air around him wetter than a swimming hole with the downpour he barely notices.
All around the soles of his boots; and Rick's water gathers puddles and splashes soaking their pant legs; seeping into socks leaving no part of them untouched, and still they stand frozen oblivious to the beaded water trickling off the end of his bangs, and the drips running down his face gathering in thick rivulets streaming down his temples to his chin before diving off toward his shirt and the pavement.
All around them the wind picks up pushes at them, trying to drive them back from the overpass; it's no longer a breeze as it races through the bowers high overhead tearing leaves off with unseen hands to fall toward the ground. The heavy gusts sending a few of them all the way across the empty roadway to spin and dance around their still forms like lively green butterflies in a minute air show.
The world all around them is moving again,
It no longer needs to hold its breath.
The axe has fallen.
:: Walking Dead ::