All I Ever Will Be
Chapter One - Escape
Daryl Dixon found himself in quite the predicament. Backed into a corner of an embalmment room with no way out, he was starting to panic. A rarity for him. Killing zombies was the talent he never knew he had.
His heart was beating out of his chest as he held the metal table in front of him with outstretched arms against the heavy herd that had crowded into the small room. Dirty, dead hands scratched at his face, pulling at his hair. The gnashing of teeth was overwhelmingly loud, complimented by low groans and shrieks. This was what the world sounded like now - the living dead.
Daryl grunted, using his strength to try and push the table forward to no avail. He was stuck.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself, his chest feeling tight. He'd grabbed two make-shift weapons from the tray of tools beside him before they'd cornered him. Finding the needle, he instinctively sunk it into an eye of a walker. It stuck, disappearing as the body fell lifelessly to the ground. His fingers found the other tool, a scalpel this time, that proved faithful, taking down the walkers who were getting dangerously close.
He looked into the sea of bodies, fearfully staring at their blank eyes, their decrepit bodies fueled by hunger. There was only one way out - the door behind the herd.
"Fuck it," he whispered again, ducking and sliding out underneath the table, sprinting towards the opening, grabbing his bow on the way. Another walker came through the opening and he sunk the knife into its brain out of habit, pulling it out as easily as if he were serving a slice of pie. As he ran, he felt the presence of the monsters behind him, but kept moving, up the stairs and out the front door into the cool night air.
"Beth?" he whispered loudly, looking in each direction to take in his surroundings. The graveyard was mesmerizing in the moonlight, but Daryl didn't have the time to appreciate it. He slid into the trees, slamming his crossbow into the head of another walker, taking him down instantly. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, replaced by anger. The pain of losing the prison was still so fresh that he couldn't help it.
They'd just gotten comfortable. They'd just been able to take a fucking breath. Started to think about starting over. They had a taste of normalcy and it was gone again. He stood in between trees, feeling lost and foolish. He shouldn't have put his guard down.
"Daryl?" He heard a familiar whisper through the trees. He spun around, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Beth revealed herself in the darkness, looking panicked and winded. She lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his mid-section. Her tiny body was shaking and she sobbed incomprehensibly into his jacket. "I'm so sorry," she cried, pulling away, wiping the tears from her face. "I'm so sorry I just left you there - you could have died. I'm so sorry."
"I told you to run," Daryl said kindly. "And see - I'm fine." He held his arms out to show her he wasn't hurt.
She gave him a half-hearted smile, but he could tell she felt like shit. "There wasn't nothin' you could do anyway," he said, then as an afterthought, "How's your foot?"
"I'm fine," Beth said, "I'm just glad you're okay."
"Don't give it 'nother thought," Daryl grumbled, beginning to walk away through the woods. "We're both alive, so let's keep it that way. C'mon," he said nodding his head forward so that she'd follow him. "We gotta find a place to hole up for the night."
"Okay," she said, bringing her hands up to grab the straps of her backpack.
The two walked in silence, lost in their own thoughts. In the darkness of the night, the forest was alive around them. Moonlight shone through the slender trees, illuminating their path as Beth and Daryl trekked over stiff leaves and broken branches. They had no clear direction except away from where they'd come.
Daryl was making a conscious effort not to let his anger overwhelm him, but it wasn't really working. He felt defeated and inadequate at the loss of something else. The funeral home had been a chance at hope for them - he'd seen it in the way Beth had looked at him when he suggested they stay. They'd needed something good. They'd needed to stop running.
"Here," Beth said suddenly, veering off to the right. She headed through the trees ahead of Daryl, leading him to the edge of a clearing where the trees stopped growing. She grasped the bark of a tree, her slender fingers holding onto it to steady herself. He watched her, her shoulders rising up and down rapidly as she caught her breath and peered out.
Past the tree, past Beth, Daryl's eyes landed on what she had seen. The tree line ended with a short hill that dipped down into a dark road. On the other side of it was an 18-wheeler stopped dead with its tailgate wide open.
Daryl came up next to Beth and started to load his bow. "It's somethin'," he said, suddenly recognizing his exhaustion. They could camp out in there, at least for a few hours, regain their strength and be on their way again. "Let's check it out," he said. "Stay sharp."
Beth nodded at him. He shifted his crossbow up to aim it at the truck, looking up and down the road before they wandered out from where they stood. Their surroundings were empty and eerily quiet, but Daryl didn't spend too much time thinking about it, quickly making his way down the small hill with Beth on his heels. They scrambled across the road and towards the truck as quickly as possible.
Aiming his weapon towards the back of the truck, Daryl squinted in the darkness for any sort of threatening shadows - living or dead. He could tell instantly that the truck bed was empty, so he let his arms rest for a moment, bringing his crossbow down to his side. Instinctively, he grabbed for Beth's arm so that she would stay right behind him, coming around the other side of the truck to the passenger door. He grabbed the handle and pulled, quickly bringing up his bow again to shoot if need be, but the seats were empty.
He hopped up onto the side stair of the vehicle, poking his head in and whistling to drive out anything they couldn't see. After waiting for a minute, he slid inside, turning to help Beth hoist herself in behind him. He shifted to the drivers seat, giving her some space and checking that the door was locked. He looked back at Beth who was taking in her surroundings with wide eyes. "Make sure that door is locked," he instructed her.
"Got it," Beth responded, pushing the lock closed beside her.
He sighed, placing his crossbow between the two seats and leaned over to look behind where they sat. A worn, blue curtain had been carefully hung from the ceiling of the truck. He peeled it back, revealing a small nook that held a few sealed, plastic containers, a mini-fridge with the door hanging open and to his pleasant surprise, a small bed. It was a decent enough space for them to get some rest, at least until the sun was up again.
"Hmph," he said triumphantly.
Beth had turned to check out his discovery and grinned at him. "Wow," she said. "It's no coffin, but I'll take it."
"Damn right you will," Daryl growled. "Get some rest," he demanded pointing to the bed. "Might be the last bed you see for a while."
"Would it kill you to be a little more positive?" Beth asked, crossing her arms.
Daryl narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed by the comment. "What's there to be positive about?" he asked.
"Well, for starters, we're alive," Beth stressed the last word, standing up awkwardly in the truck to move into the nook. She lifted her leg to step over his crossbow and swayed on her bad foot. Daryl caught her elbow with his hand to steady her. Catching her balance on both feet, she turned and sat on the small bed behind him.
"That's not sayin' much," Daryl responded.
"Well, we got each other," she said, wiping loose strands of hair out of her face and looking at him with her big doe eyes. She was sincere in what she said, her face trying to urge Daryl to understand that there was still some good in the world. He was still having a hard time with it.
"Guess so," Daryl replied, turning away from her. Her stares made him uncomfortable in a way he couldn't quite explain. "Get some rest," he said with finality.
"Yes sir," she said sarcastically behind him and he heard her shifting around to get comfortable on the feeble mattress. He turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder at her again, her small body curled up, knees to her chest. She looked so small.
"Goodnight Daryl," she said, sounding far away. "I'm glad we're together, even if you're not."
"You are?" he asked, leaning back in his seat and staring out of the dirty windshield at the darkness of the night around them. He sounded more surprised than he'd meant to.
"Yeah," she said sleepily. "I am."
Daryl smiled, despite himself, some of his anger subsiding. "Me too," he whispered, unsure if she could hear him - not certain if he wanted her to, and he closed his eyes, letting sleep take him away.