The Problem Here
Part I: The Way
Just when we are safest, there's a sunset-touch,
A fancy from a flower-bell, some one's death,
A chorus-ending from Euripides-
And that's enough for fifty hopes and fears
As old and new at once as nature's self,
To rap and knock and enter in our soul,
Take hands and dance there, a fantastic ring,
Round the ancient idol, on his base again-
The grand Perhaps! We look on helplessly.
There the old misgivings, crooked questions are-
This good God-what he could do, if he would,
Would, if he could-then must have done long since:
If so, when, where and how? some way must be-
Once feel about, and soon or late you hit
Some sense, in which it might be, after all.
Why not, "The Way, the Truth, the Life?"
"Bishop Blougram's Apology" by Robert Browning
Chapter One
Barters and Beggars
Rustling.
It always started with rustling.
Kate woke up with a start, her harsh breath the only sound she heard, but she knew something else was out there. After so long on the run she had learned to go on a hunch, even if that was her sleep addled brain telling her there was something outside. Slowing her breathing she rolled over onto her side, her hand going quietly around the handgun underneath her jacket, which had been serving her as a makeshift pillow. She tightened her grip and sat up, peering through the crack in the tent flap towards where she thought she had heard the sound coming from. All she could see was the trees that lined the edge of her camp and the embers of the fire from the night before. Still, her flesh crawled and she couldn't stop the thought that there was a creature lurking close. Her blood sounded in her ears as she held her breath.
And waited...
Rustling.
Her breathing hitched, and she moved her shaking hand into her lap. Clicking the hammer down on the gun, she flinched at the noise which sounded like a firecracker in the unnatural stillness of the woods. She closed her eyes and let out a small breath in preparation before moving towards the opening of the tent, bracing herself for the unpleasant view that would greet her outside. Without pausing to think about it she opened the flap and crawled out on all fours while trying to hold the revolver one hand. It inevitably ended with her getting tangled in the mesh-plastic of the tent and making a god-awful racket. She righted herself quickly, adrenaline slipping through her body like an energy shot. When she straightened up she raised her pistol to find that the sleek black barrel was pointed directly in between two blue eyes, who were staring, relatively unfazed, down the muzzle of the gun from across the clearing.
"Who the hell are you?" Kate asked, her voice shaking less than her hands, which held the heavy weapon between her and the intruder.
"I coulda asked ya' the same thing," The stranger said, blinking to dislodge long pieces of dark hair from his eyelashes. "Put that gun down, we both know you ain't gonna fire it out here with Walkers crawlin' about."
Kate repositioned her hands on the gun so that her sweaty palms wouldn't drop it, cupping it with one hand on the bottom, she swallowed. "Try me."
The man looked past her to the small campsite; one tent, a fire, a few pieces of still-drying jerky hanging from a string between two trees, laundry on a string across the way. His blue eyes found their way back to her, the confusion somewhat gone. "You alone?"
She stared at him, sure by the way he was scrutinizing her he could see the desperate thrumming of her heartbeat against the thin skin of her neck. She clenched her jaw, not saying anything.
"How many you killed?" The man chewed on a piece of his lip and looked down at the crossbow he was holding in his hands.
Kate lowered the gun somewhat, her aim now somewhere around his chest, her grip slackening as she noticed the casual hold that the man had on his weapon. The wave of adrenaline began to ebb out of her system and the roaring of blood in her ears subsided to a soft, distant sound of white static. "What?"
"Walkers. How many of them?" He looked back up at her, eyes narrowed and suspicious.
"I—I don't know. A few. I have been lucky, mostly it was Ch—I haven't killed more than twenty."
"How many people?"
"What are you asking these questions for?" Kate demanded, folding her arms across her chest, completely forgetting about her weapon, now carelessly tucked against her ribcage.
The stranger's grip tightened reflexively on his bow. "How many people have you killed?"
Kate flinched, "why?"
"Dammit woman, just answer the question." The man drew his crossbow at eye level about the same time Kate pulled the gun back up, standing across the camp the two stared each other down. "I don't wanna hav'ta kill ya' but it's the rules. Everyone's gotta follow 'em, and everyone new's got to answer three questions. So go on," he gestured at her with the crossbow, his voice was impatient, "how many?"
"Does it matter? You're going to kill me anyways." The tears came unbidden in the face of this fact. Just one glance at the sinewy muscles in the stranger's arms and Kate knew that she was outmatched by far, her hands were shaking from fear and her arms were shaking from fatigue. Even if she was a better shot, she had no way to fight off this man. The tears of frustration threatened to spill down her cheeks, barely containing themselves behind lower lashes. It wasn't fair to have made it this far, only to be taken out by someone she didn't even know—who wasn't even a corpse.
"Whatcha crying for? I ain't gonna kill ya' if ya' just answer the damn questions!"
"If I do, can I ask you three in return?" Kate lowered her pistol a notch, careful to keep her finger poised near the trigger.
"You ain't in no position to be bartering." The stranger pointed out, and Kate begrudgingly agreed in the back of her mind. His hand didn't tremble as he watched her steadily down the length of his crossbow where her arms shook from fatigue, even if she was any good with a gun he was right: it would just bring more of those foul creatures down upon her.
"Leave. It doesn't matter, I won't come after you." It was true, what means did she have to try and follow this man wherever he was headed? It would bring her nothing in the end anyways, except for maybe a quick death by a bolt from a crossbow.
"We've got food and shelter. Ya just gotta answer the damn question. How many people have you killed?"
"Who are you? What do you care? As far as I'm concerned there are no rules anymore." Her voice hitched on the last word and she swallowed.
The man snarled in frustration. "Just answer the questions, dammit. If ya' tell them well enough, you can have yours." He shifted his feet, crunching the dry leaves between his boots, dragging his bottom lips through his teeth he added a reluctant: "promise."
"One," the sticky, clogged feeling in her throat made it come out like a choked sob. As soon as her mouth closed over the word she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying in front of this man.
"Why?" Although his bow was still pointed at her face he was looking determinedly past her shoulder, as if his target was the tree behind her.
"She was m—my...friend...turned…bit…had too."
The broken sentence made the man slip his eyes back to her. "What's your name?"
"Kate Hawthorne." She breathed, eyes glassy but without a hint of moisture on her face. She was glad he didn't ask more of her. "Yours?"
"Daryl Dixon." It was quietly spoken; without the complete silence in the woods around them she never would have heard it.
Swallowing, she stood up a bit straighter and put the gun down to her side. "I think we both know we aren't going to shoot one another."
Daryl jerked his head in an unrecognizable motion but lowered his crossbow, so Kate figured he, at the least, agreed. "So what're your two questions?"
"I thought we agreed on three."
"You already asked—"
"I didn't—" she started to interrupt indignantly.
"—what my name was."
"That doesn't—you can't—" she huffed, but the corner of her lip twitched a bit. "Alright fine. Two questions. First things first: where is your camp?"
"We've got a jail up the trail a-ways, about a 10 mile trek from here, plenty of people, although some sort of cold took out a lotta folks not more than a week ago, graves are still fresh but the disease is gone, so you don't gotta worry 'bout that." Daryl scuffed his boot into the dirt, fiddling with the string of his crossbow.
"Is it safe?" Kate whispered, her question carried over to Daryl on the breeze.
He looked up and found her staring intently at him, her eyes shining in the midday light, hopeful and tired. He nodded. A real up and down head movement, the most she'd fully seen him move since she ungracefully tumbled out of the tent and onto her feet in front of him.
"Can we—"
Rustling.
Kate and Daryl both turned towards the sound of the noise and brought their weapons up. Out of the bushes walked a young woman. Her hair was spiking up in the back from sweat, it was short and blonde, the ends ragged from where she had tied her hair in a ponytail and cut it all away. Her shirt sleeves were torn off against the midsummer sun and her build was short and muscular with strong arms and legs, her feet were incased in brown hiking boots and she wore her t-shirt tucked into a pair of high wasted jean shorts, on her left arm was a black band tattoo. At her heels bounded a strange looking dog, followed by a golden retriever. Her green eyes looked from Kate to Daryl and back again. "Koko, what's going on?"
"You know her? It isn't just you here?" Daryl turned so that he could switch between pointing the crossbow at Kate and the new arrival, who had drawn her gun and was pointing it at Daryl's head calmly, pulling the hammer back with a hard stare.
"Charlie, put it down!" Kate demanded sharply, her own weapon having lowered as soon as Charlie had stepped out of the bushes.
"I asked if you were alone!" Daryl snapped, acting as a cornered animal would.
Kate raised both her hands in a natural, pacifying manner, her palms facing towards Daryl. "I didn't get a chance to answer you before. This is my best friend, Charlie. It's just us, I swear."
"Who is this guy?" Charlie snarled, her stance widening.
"His name is Daryl, he's got what sounds like a pretty good set up to me. I think we should go with him, if he'll take us?" Kate turned attentively towards Daryl who was watching the scene with observant, if not cautious, eyes.
"No, Katie, we agreed: not again."
Kate looked over at Daryl, taking in his attire: his clothes were dirty but not the way hers were: her black tank top hanging loosely off her and on top of it she wore a loose mid-drift shirt that hung off one shoulder, the picture of the sea had long since faded or been obscured by stains on the white cloth but the black word's "LET'S GET LOST IN PARADISE" were still as bold as they'd been the day she'd bought it. She wore dark jean shorts rolled up, showing long and slender legs with lean muscles and sharp knee bones, ending in a pair of black converse, her matted brown hair was plaited in a French braid down her back. "They probably have food, and shelter, and…water?" She turned to Daryl hopefully, willing him to confirm her assumptions.
Daryl gave another short spasm of his head which she interpreted as a yes.
"No." Charlie spat, turning to Daryl, weapon still pointing between his eyes, she added, "Sir, you better just leave, we'll be fine on our own." The dogs gave soft growls as if to punctuate the point.
"Charlie, be reasonable."
"Safety in numbers, man. Promise I don't want no trouble but I can't leave ya' here alone with a good conscience." He lowered his crossbow carefully. "If you want me ta leave I will." His eyes trailed to Kate.
She had made her way to Charlie's side and put a gentle hand on her elbow which was locked against the possible recoil if she had to shoot. It took a moment but between Kate's murmured reassurances and with the pressure she was putting onto her arm, Charlie finally folded and hung her gun down at her side.
"So what? You just want us to up and follow this stranger to God knows where?" Charlie ran a hand through her already messy blonde hair.
Kate nodded.
Charlie searched her eyes for a few moments, her intense gaze boring into Kate, she stared back at her, her eyes wide and hopeful, begging her to trust this stranger.
"Alright," Charlie said with a sigh, tearing her eyes from Kate so that she could look at the other man. "Daryl, is it? Lead the way." Charlie held out her arm in front of her in what was a particularly sarcastic gesture.
"Ain't ya' gonna clean up your mess first?" Daryl gestured with his crossbow to their pitiful campsite.
"Oh, right. Yes. Just give us a moment." Kate responded, laughing at her own eagerness to be away. Her laughter was loud and Daryl flinched at the sound.
"And keep it down will ya? Walkers been crawling all over the place these past few days." He growled.
Properly chastised the pair set about collecting their scant amount of items and loading them into the two backpacks they had with them. Charlie kept throwing scowling glances Daryl's way but his back was to them, watching the woods, and for the first time in a long while Kate could feel her muscles relax a bit. "I told you hope was strong enough." She said sidling up next to Charlie as they took down the last of the tent and began to fold it up.
"I call it an accident; he didn't mean to find us." Charlie replied stubbornly.
"Say what you'd like, I knew we'd pull through." And damn her, if that small smile she gave her didn't make Charlie begrudgingly grin in return.
Once the tent was down and the last burning embers of the fire officially stomped out they turned to Daryl. "Um, Daryl?" Kate questioned, putting a hand on his arm to get his attention. He flinched out of her gentle fingers and twisted around to look at her. "I'm sorry if I startled you," she drew her hand away and stepped back. "We're ready to go; I just have to get one thing."
Before Daryl could formulate a response she slipped off into the tree line and disappeared. Daryl stepped forward to follow her.
"Don't," Charlie said from across the camp. Daryl replaced his boot onto the already crunched leaves beneath his feet. "She'll be back in a moment." Daryl nodded and peered through the trees, putting his crossbow against his shoulder and taking aim at the darkness in the woods just in case. A few moments later Kate stepped back into the clearing leading two horses by their reins. One of the horses woofed softly and nibbled at the end of Daryl's crossbow.
"Daryl, I'd like you to meet Andromeda and Perseus." She gestured to the black mare and the bay gelding who followed, docile, behind her, even with her dog whipping in and out from beneath their feet. Once he realized he would get no rise from the horses the multi-colored dog made a beeline for Daryl, sniffing around his shoes and then staring up at him with unnerving two different colored eyes.
"What's he lookin' at me like that for?" Daryl said not looking away from the ice-blue and molten-brown color of the dog's strange eyes.
"Jack, come here boy, leave Daryl alone." The dog's ears perked up and he bounded happily over to his owner where he stood, just reaching her knee. She bent down a bit so she could put a hand on his head, "he's very friendly. Absolutely no use in a pinch, he would rather have those corpses throw a stick for him than take one down but he's loyal to a fault and even if we wanted to leave him behind he'd just follow us." Kate explained, smiling fondly at the dog who wagged his stumped tail happily as if in understanding. Kate then pointed to the young golden retriever sitting faithfully by Charlie's feet. "That's Taft, he's a hell of a lot better in a pinch but an absolutely terrible guard dog, he can sleep through anything."
"We've got a barn for ya' horses, as long as ya' willing to let the other use 'em. I don't care if the mutts tags along as long as they keeps their yaps shut, but if Rick says no they've got ta leave." Daryl bit at a piece of skin around his finger.
Charlie had come up to stand behind Kate, glowering imposingly over her shoulder at Daryl.
"The mutt can come but I'm not so sure about her," Daryl amended, gesturing to Charlie who began to look as if she might try to kill Daryl with her bare hands, regardless of how well that'd work. Sensing the building tension in Charlie, Kate laid a calming hand on Charlie's shoulder without moving her eyes from Daryl's.
"Charlie, why don't you get Annie ready and I'll work on Percy? I'm sure Daryl has a ride not far off so that we can make good time for the prison before dark."
"Got a bike about half a mile up the road, but first she's gotta answer—"
"More than she could probably count. None. So that kind of negates the last question, don't you think?" Kate snapped, tired and hungry and more than ready to be on the road.
Daryl blinked at the shorthand response.
"Now can we please get a move on before we loose the light? I wanna see if this prison is as good as you make it sound." She gave Daryl a quick wink and turned to physically push Charlie into action. After a moment Charlie started out of her staring contest with Daryl and turned to tighten the girth on the black horse.
The small group headed off in the direction Daryl indicated, with Taft trotting faithfully next to Charlie and Jack lopping ahead, circling back whenever he felt he'd got to far or that someone was starting to stray. After the fourth or fifth time Jack did this Daryl spit at the dog as he ran by him to the back of the group, "if that mutt doesn't calm down—"
"He's a herding dog. It's his job to make sure everyone stays together and on the move. It's a good trait to have, at the very least." Kate defended as she watched Daryl track Jack around another circuit with his blue eyes. Daryl made a noise of frustration deep in his throat which was answered by a huff of annoyance from Charlie.
"It's like talking to one of them corpses," Charlie stage whispered to Kate, who shot her a disapproving look but didn't say anything. Charlie shrugged and rubbed one of Annie's ears as they walked. "I know, I don't like him very much either." The horse made no response, but Kate watched as Daryl's shoulders became tighter and she assumed he'd heard the snide comment.
"If you can't play nice I'm going to leave you out here for those things," Kate snapped pulling on Percy's reins so that she was no longer walking side by side with Charlie. "Ignore him," she half called to Daryl who was walking a bit ahead of her, "she just doesn't warm up too quickly to new people now-a-days. This whole end of the world deal has everyone a bit jumpy, wouldn't you agree?"
No reply.
"Well," she laughed, though it was forced as she tried to mend bridges. "I'm sure you understand."
Still the tight shoulders in front of her did not loosen, nor did he make any indication that he had heard her at all, so she decided to keep talking to fill that empty nervous cavern that had started to build in her gut at the thought of her two companions continuing to be hostile. Kate never liked violence, before this world went to shit she used to scoop up spiders on pieces of paper and take them outside to be released. Charlie was more of a 'kill them as soon as they appear' kind of person, and in post-apocalyptic world that translated to 'trust no one.'
"I mean, I still hold out that there's something good in this world, and Charlie is just bitter that you turned up and proved me right." She smiled at Daryl who continued to look ahead, almost as if he was trying not to look at her out of the corner of his eye. She paused, seeing if someone would fill the silence only to be met by indifference. "You know, sometimes I feel like the only person who has retained any sense of manners and goodwill towards humankind. Just because the world's gone to fuckville and back doesn't mean we can't all get along, we are all we have now. There aren't many of us left, there can't be. This thing would've been over a long time ago if that was the case, so we're stuck with the other survivors now, we might as well get used to sharing the earth again. If seven billion of us could do it relatively successfully shouldn't the remainder of us?"
"Does she ever shut up?" Daryl finally spoke but the question was directed to Charlie, who laughed at the indignant look on Kate's face.
"Only if you have some food, and then she's only quiet while she's chewing." Charlie answered.
Daryl huffed once, obviously amused.
"Excuse me; I was just trying to have a conversation."
"Well, quit your yackin' I can't hear if there's any Walkers 'bout."
"Yeah, you can relax. No use getting your panties in a twist, you're the one who decided we were going to do this in the first place."
"At least I got what I wanted," she said with a triumphant smirk. This time Daryl looked over at her in confusion.
"Wha'?"
"You two finally on the same page."
"Why do ya' care if we get along?"
"Kate dislikes conflict," Charlie supplied.
"Well, darlin' you're going to have to face the facts. The world's gone to shit and there ain't nothing but conflict anymore," he spit as if to punctuate this sentiment.
Kate pointedly stepped over the wet spot on the ground, "hmph." Kate sighed and leaned her face into her horse's neck. "I still believe there is good out there, you've just got to find it in the little things. You can't say that there is just bad in the world. What kind of world is that? We all would've offed ourselves a long time ago if that was the case. One of my favorite quotes is 'smooth seas don't make good sailors.' You know? You gotta take the bad and learn from it."
"Woman!"
"Kate!"
Percy snorted.
"What?"
"Shut up," the other two insisted together.
"Well then, even at the end of the world apparently the patriarchy still wears the pants."
Charlie rolled her eyes behind Kate's back.
"We're here." Daryl said stopping in front of an unremarkable looking tree and sweeping aside a few vines to reveal a motorcycle underneath.
"Sick ride," Charlie said reaching out as if she was going to caress the handle bars, but Daryl's hand made it to the spot first and gripped possessively around the throttle.
"She was my brother's."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Charlie paused to look at Daryl sympathetically, but Daryl had suddenly found himself very interested in pattern carved on the fabric of the throttle. "Damn if he didn't have good taste," Charlie's hungry eyes roved over the vehicle's smooth chrome exterior.
Daryl nodded and shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the break wire instead of looking up at Charlie.
"Neat trick, with the camouflage," Kate added, gesturing towards the bike and vines that now lay disregarded beside it.
"What?" Daryl questioned tiredly as both of the others looked at her with confusion.
She shrugged, "just saying stuff to say stuff." She bit her lip and looked up at the two from below her eyelashes.
"Whatever Katie," Charlie said, shoving her shoulder playfully. Daryl said nothing but knocked the kickstand back and began guiding the bike towards the tree line, avoiding Kate's gaze the whole time.
"There is a highway just on the other side of these trees and beyond that is the jail. Final moment: if you wanna turn back and go your own way now's your chance, but if ya' wanna come there isn't no goin' back, once your part of tha' group, you stay. Can't have anyone wanderin' off and revealing our defenses."
Kate looked at Charlie, who had her mouth set in a hard line, in the way that said clearly to Kate that she did not want to be doing this. So she put a calming hand on Charlie's upper arm before she turned back to Daryl and with a charming smile commanded: "Lead the way."
Charlie sighed, defeated, while Kate smiled and kissed her cheek fondly. Then without preamble she turned and with one swift movement had her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up and onto Percy who side stepped but stayed relatively steady under her soft hand. Annie whickered as Charlie mounted and landed gently on her back. Daryl threw his leg over the seat of his bike and revved the engine. Annie skittered sideways at the noise and Percy tossed his head, but otherwise the horses did not spook at the loud machine, the first unnatural noise besides gunshots that they had heard in a long time.
Under the cover of the engine Charlie leaned towards Kate. "Stop doing that."
"Doing what?" Kate asked innocently.
"The whole 'I'm going to try to make everyone as comfortable as possible thing you do."
"I don't do that."
Charlie just looked at her impassively.
"Okay, fine. But he just seemed like he could use a friend. He's not much for eye contact is he?" Kate half asked to herself, leaning in towards Charlie conspiratorially.
"I don't think someone like him wants any friends." Charlie said looking towards the man with the leather vest in front of them.
Kate followed his gaze, tracing the white outline of wings on his shoulder blades; she could see a tattoo peeking out from underneath the side of his sleeveless shirt. "Everyone wants friends, what else is the point if there aren't people to care about?"
As if he could feel their eyes on his back, Daryl revved his engine and kicked off. Kate and Charlie put their heels to their horses sides and followed obediently behind. Daryl set the pace at a steady lope for the horses, slowly cruising in front of them, with Jack trailing behind, his pink tongue hanging out and his pads making no sound on the asphalt as they made their way towards the prison.