HELLO! Welcome to the second part of...Whatever this story has become! If you're new to the story, "Yoke", I'd like to thank you very much for showing interest in my little story. If you're not new to it, and you've been waiting for this sequel, I LOVE YOU. Thank you for following and keeping up with it. I'm floored by how many people have been reading and reviewing, and I'm so grateful for all the kind words & encouragement you've all be giving me over the last, well, couple months! Yowza! It's been that long!
If you ARE new, you may want to go back and read the first half of "Yoke". If not, we're picking back up exactly where we left off(though, I must admit, I probably should have started this story off with the last chapter. I feel like that one establishes a whole lot more & sets the grave tone that I'm going for with this...BUT WHO CARES!)
In this chapter, our beloved survivors are going back west across Georgia in search of the town of Woodbury, the town that Merle had absently named off as their refuge. Daryl, in particular, is distraught and desperate to get the girls back, safe and sound. They're about to meet a few new friends, as well as have a potential break thrown their way.
So that's the setup! Hope you all find the chapter entertaining. Don't forget to review to let me know how you're enjoying it so far. I love feedback & enjoy suggestions & criticism! Anything you want or need to ask about the characters(OC or otherwise) have at it! Much love & thanks to all! -Laur!
DISCLAIMER!: I DON'T OWN TWD, ITS CHARACTERS OR ANYTHING FUN LIKE THAT.
His angry eyes kept flicking from point to point in succession as he chewed at the skin on his chapped bottom lip.
Road, keychain, Carol. Road, keychain, Carol.
Pru hadn't told him about a dog. Never once had she mentioned the animal. But then, sure enough, the happy picture of her in only a bathing suit top and baggy blue jeans, a chow dog slung over her shoulders like a spring lamb, was swaying and clacking against the steering column as he flew down the road behind the other cars.
He became acutely aware that there was probably a lot that she'd not told him about her life before the plague. There'd definitely been vast amounts he'd not yet made her privy to. There hadn't been time, really. Not between living day to day. Tasks and chores and hunting and all the fucking death and running. No time to tiny squeeze in more little details about who they were between the hate and then tension they'd once harbored for each other. No time really between then and their physical actions. As she and that nameless animal smiled up at him from the tiny souvenir keychain, he hated himself for not making time.
He jammed her CJ into the next gear, accelerating a bit more, pissed at himself for a second. The old him-Merle Dixon's younger brother- spoke up then.
So who's she to me? I barely know her.
He shook the terrible thought of whether this was all actually worth it from his head forcefully and ground his teeth together, fighting again to hold back the moisture that was burning his eyes and sinuses. He wanted to know more about her. Dammit, he wanted to know everything, and the only way he was going to be able to tell her that is if they hurried their asses up and got to Woodbury, wherever the hell that was. Her life depended on their swiftness, and so did the lives of Andrea, Beth, and Michonne.
Carol gasped in the seat next to him and braced her hands on the door and the dashboard as he hit the brakes a bit roughly. He'd just about been on top of the pickup's tailgate. He sniffed.
"Calm yer ass down. We ain't gon' crash." He groused at her. The first thing he'd said to her all since they'd gotten on the road. She looked flustered, annoyed, and a bit pained, still suffering from the sting of the long line of laceration that Merle had dealt her and the stitches Herschel had hastily mended her with.
He hadn't wanted her to get in the jeep with him when they left the ranger station. He hadn't wanted anyone to share the long ride back west through the Chattahoochee with him. He wanted to be alone, to try to calm his nerves and gather his thoughts in fucking peace. She'd climbed into the passenger side after he'd specifically told her he didn't want her there and that she should ride with Herschel because she was injured anyway. And Goddammit.
"It's just a scratch." She'd huffed as she closed herself in. Now he was stuck with her, and she was about to start telling him how to drive.
"There's two drums of gas in that truck, Daryl. Ease up a bit." She said hesitantly.
"I know that! I can see 'em!" he belted. Carol withdrew into the door, wincing at the volume and rage in his voice, and looking every bit as much of the old her as she ever had for a brief flash. He bit his bottom lip to keep his snarl under wraps. He regretted snapping at her immediately.
Suddenly, Carol's meek former self retreated back into whatever deep recesses of her mind it had been stashed over the last few weeks. She'd apparently realized who she was dealing with and what the situation called for. She leaned over, snaking her left arm over his onto the wheel and jammed hard on the horn a few times, hissing at the pain in her side.
"What the hell are you doin'?" he snapped again. The cars in front of him began to slow and he had to pull off to the side of the pickup T-Dog was driving to keep from another near collision.
"You're in no shape to be driving right now." She said quietly as she pulled herself from the vehicle and closed the door behind her. As she rounded the front end of the jeep, she held a hand up, gesturing down the line of cars that everything was fine and it would only be a minute. His temper swelled again.
"THE HELL I AIN'T." he shouted at her through the rolled up windows. She reached his door and yanked it open, placing her other hand at her hip.
"Come on now." She said voice just above a whisper but just as forceful as a shout as she urged him out of the driver 's seat.
"Carol…Get back in the damn car." He growled low and warning as he eyed her. She wasn't backing down, though. Evidently his patented menacing looks and dangerous way of speaking was quickly losing its effect on the members of their group. Carol just looked at him with a well-practiced 'Your temper tantrum won't work on me, young man' expression.
"Stop that. You're wasting time." she scolded quietly, "Now go on. Scooch over."
He wasn't about to give up that easily. He put the four wheel drive animal in park and hopped out in front of her and loomed.
"You even know how to drive stick?"
He'd meant it to sound venomous. Meant. But his voice had cracked rather clearly on the last syllable, smashing his guise even further. Carol fretted at the sound and he found her hand squeezing his forearm and he finally folded, ducking his head and moving out of her way so she could climb in and take the reins.
He looked ahead at the line of cars. In the dimness of dusk, he could barely make out the three worried faces that were reflected in three side view mirrors. Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog. But he shot a weak glare their way anyway and then crossed in front of the jeep, opened the door, and slumped into the seat.
As the jeep began to pull forward, following the others again, a low, defeated groan escaped from his chest and brought his palms to his face. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he gave in completely to grief and let it swallow him up. He hadn't cried for his bitch mother when she had passed, nor for his bastard father. He'd almost been brought to tears at the sound of Carol's brokenhearted bleating the day Shane had thrown those barn doors wide and Sophia's tiny, void body stumbled out, and he'd shed a tear or two for Merle when he'd found his lonely, rigored hand lying in the gravel on that rooftop in Atlanta…But it was nothing like this.
The transmission hitched beneath them as Carol shifted into second gear, and then third, and as he cried silently into his hands, and he felt Carol rest her hand on his wrist, done with shifting for now. He couldn't feel her eyes on him, though. She'd diligently kept them to the road, knowing that by looking over to him as he wept, she'd strip him of that last scrap of dignity.
"You've held it together better than anyone, throughout everything…For months…This whole time." She murmured reassuringly. She'd left off the last bit, though. It didn't need to be said aloud.
It's okay to cry now. You've more than earned it.
He held his breath, trying to steady himself, and wiped at his face furiously, unintentionally shaking her hand free, and even threw in a smack or two to the side of his head to help reel his mind back in. He felt her glance over then. That part had disturbed her a little. He frowned and settled his head against the trees that blurred past them outside the cold glass of the window.
"We're gunna find them, Daryl…We'll find her." She said quietly, and she reached back over for his hand, folding his dirty fingers underneath hers. He turned his head to face her finally, but she still didn't look over. He just stared in awe at the stoic face, lightly lit up by the red brake lights in front of them. Never in a million years did he think that she'd be repeating those words he'd said to her during that hellish time she'd endured. Not back to him, for him, about someone he cared about. He squeezed her hand without thinking about it.
"Yeah." He breathed, words fogging on the cold glass as they left his lips after he'd turned his head to face back out that side window. He was suddenly very glad that she was the one that was in that car with him.
...
How the fuck long was this ride? It hadn't seemed this long on their way out there originally. It was long, but the last few hours had stretched out forever like the dark road in front of them. After he'd stopped crying like a little girl, Carol had suggested, though she admittedly said she didn't know why she was bothering to suggest it, that he try to rest. He'd scoffed and massaged his pounding head and she shrugged.
He'd gone over the whole thing in his mind a million times since then. What he could have done better. How he could have stopped the whole thing from playing out the way it had. He'd come to the conclusion that he should've just handed his crossbow off to Glenn and the both of them could have silently picked off Merle and his group from afar.
The fuck was I thinkin'?
And then the rational side of his brain kicked himself again. There was no changing what was done and over with. Not now. Now was the time to gather his thoughts, cool the fuck off, and figure out just what they needed to do. But he'd hit a brick wall there. They knew nothing about what was awaiting them at this Woodbury place, and the Devil was in the details.
Just as he finished the thought, the cars in front of them skidded to a halt and Carol let out a startled yawp as she spun the wheel, steering the car away from the extremely flammable pickup. The jeep lurched as she hit the brakes, her door about a foot away from the other vehicle's rear end.
"Christ! You okay?" he asked looking over at a very wide-eyed and shaken Carol. Her mouth was slightly open as she panted and nodded in response to his question. Immediately after she'd confirmed her safety he was reaching behind him into the packed back seat for his crossbow. He pulled it to him and threw his door open, stalking past the other cars as T-Dog, Herschel, and Glenn were now pulling themselves out of.
"The fuck is goin' on?! Don' any of you assholes know how to drive?" he called, not caring at this point of there were undead monsters lurking within the sleeping trees and naked thickets off to the side of the desolate road. He stormed up the line of vehicles, and just as he rounded the side of the Suburban that was carrying the Grimes Family he was met by two stiff figures standing in the glow of the headlights. He raised his bow and was about to fire when the much larger of the two jumped at the sound of Daryl's aggressive movements.
"Don't shoot! Please!" the impossibly deep voice begged as Rick jumped out the other side, "We're unarmed!"
"Fuck that!" Daryl barked, Glenn and T-Dog meeting his back and taking their cues from him, weapons trained on the two males in front of them. The large, dark-skinned man before them was limply holding a rather large tree branch in one hand. Behind the other arm, a much smaller, younger white kid, probably around Beth's age, was tucked and cowering.
"You are armed. Drop the stick." Rick said steadily. The man nodded.
"Okay. Okay…Just don't hurt us. We're just tryin' to…"
He tapered off, shaking his head and tossed the fallen limb off to the side, far out of reach. Apparently, he had no idea what he was trying to do beyond not ending up dead. Carol popped into Daryl's periphery just behind Rick then and gasped at the sight of the other survivors.
"Carol…" T-Dog warned before Daryl even had the chance to. Daryl watched the man's head turn to her.
"Please." He said softly, "We got no food, no water. No place to hole up. We're not lookin' for trouble…My little girl…She just got-"
Great. Now he'd not only seen that they had women beyond Lori in the cars, but he was begging to the one softest person in their group for mercy.
"Shut up." Daryl snapped again, interrupting what he knew was about to come out of his mouth, knowing that if he completed the sentence it would surely crack someone's resolve beyond Carol's. That's all they needed to hear. It was too late, though. Rick and Glenn were lowering their weapons, and T-Dog was turning away from the scene looking exasperated as he eyed the forest behind them.
"Rick." Daryl warned, but their leader's hand came up, telling him to back off.
"Are either of you bit? Scratched?" he asked the man and the boy. Daryl knew where this was going. They didn't have time for this bullshit.
NO RICK. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT. YOU CAN'T TAKE IN THESE STRAYS. WE GOT NO PLACE TO PUT 'EM. WHAT ARE YOU GUNNA FEED 'EM?! WHO'S GUNNA CLEAN UP AFTER 'EM?! GODDAMMIT.
The hulking man, now just about in tears, shook his head. "No."
Rick turned to Daryl as if to ask him what he thought. If he was looking for support however, he wouldn't find it in the hunter. Not for this lunacy. Daryl snarled and shook his head, sight still set on the huge man's forehead. Rick sighed and moved his eyes back to the other man, still clutching to the boy that was behind him. Rick stepped forward slowly and raised his hand in a peaceful gesture, meaning for him to shake it.
"Rick. Rick Grimes." He offered. The other man eyed him for a second, and then searched the eye of the others off to his left.
"I'm Tyreese…This is Chris." He said finally taking the offered hand.
"Are you outta yer goddamn mind, Rick?! Yer gunna collect some more dead weight now?! After everythin' that happened today?!...WHAT IF THEY'RE RUNNIN' WITH 'EM?!"
Rick turned to Daryl, eyes deadly serious. "I don't see them running with anyone right now, do you?"
Carol squeezed past the hood of the truck and Rick's back, hands up to Daryl trying to settle him down already. He withdrew his aim finally, throwing his arms up in the air and stalked back to the jeep. He just wanted to get back on the road…He just wanted to collect Pru and the others, kill as many of those sick fucks as he could, and then call it a fucking day.
Carol was right on his ass as he slammed the passenger side door closed. If he was pissed and in no shape to drive before, Rick had just about tossed an oil tanker's worth of gasoline onto the flames. He tossed the crossbow behind him and ignored her as she pulled the door back open and began speaking.
"He's got a kid with him." She said quietly. He snapped his head to her at that, glaring.
"That don' mean shit, an' you know it. Carl's better with a gun now than half the members a'this group. Age ain't shit no-more. That's two more people we gotta watch out fer."
He turned away, sulking after that. Carol crossed her arms and sighed, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and he could tell she was trying to think up her next arguing point. She uncrossed her arms and braced her weight against the small removable door and the body of the tall vehicle, effectively trapping him in if he dared go anywhere.
"…You hated her at first, too." She said, matter-of-factly. He turned back to her slowly, eyes hard as he chewed at the inside of his mouth. He knew she was right. He never trusted anyone at first. Every single stranger was always the enemy, but with good reason. This world wasn't kind to the soft-hearted or the trusting, and over his dead body was someone going to come into their group and tear it up from the inside out.
You know I'm right, Daryl.
Her eyes said it all. He shook his head at her and then began fussing with the hilt of his knife at his hip and they both stayed quiet for a long while. When he looked up a few minutes later, his eyes fell upon Rick as he was crossing the front of the sideways facing jeep, no doubt coming to try to talk him down as well. He said nothing for a second. He just stood in back of Carol with his hands resting on his hips like they seemed to always be when he was trying to work something out in his head.
"We could really use all the manpower we can get, right now. This guy, Tyreese…Looking at him, I'd say he's about as good as two men."
"An' what if he ain't so innocent? You trust these guys you just met around yer wife an' yer boy, 'cuz I gotta say, man, I'm thinkin' this is right up there with yer original decision to grab Randall's dumb ass up and drag him back to the farm."
Rick bit his bottom lip in anger at Daryl's mention of the folly that had been the Randall situation. He looked to his feet and then spun, trying to find the strength to keep calm. He had to remind himself that Daryl was in a bad way emotionally. He came back to the car to assert himself with his final point.
"I'd feel better about it if you'd agree with me, but it's not up for debate…They're alone. They have nothing. I'm not leaving them on the side of the road to die like dogs…I can't do that, and I know if- If she were here, she'd agree with me." Rick said running a hand down his face.
Daryl didn't look at him. He couldn't. Rick had him, tit-for-tat, with that one. He took a minuet, not wanting to give in all at once, and then cleared his throat and scratched at his jaw.
"Whatever…Let's just get goin' so we can find this place already."
Rick didn't move and didn't say anything. He just stood there shifting again and Daryl's irritation started bubbling back up. He turned back to Rick and saw that Carol, too, was now looking at the back of the man's head, a worried and questioning look on her face.
"What?" Daryl snarled low in his throat, eyeing his friend, wound and ready to snap.
"We need time, Daryl. We need a place to gather ourselves and figure out a plan…" Rick began.
He wasn't saying this. He couldn't be saying this. It was absolutely impossible that Rick was standing in front of him suggesting that they wait to go find them. He pushed his way out of the jeep, not even bothering to look at either of the people standing next to him, and he moved to the back seat and started pulling things out to make room.
"Wh-What are you doing?" Carol asked.
"What's it look like?!" Daryl yelled. He spun back to the open door and continued to throw the clothes and the bottles of water and the bags of food onto the pavement.
"You're not going off on your own! Rick, tell him he can't do this!" Carol pleaded desperately.
"Daryl…Daryl. DARYL!" Rick tried, finally opting to just grapple his friend into facing he and Carol again. It wasn't easy maneuvering the raging bull into a submission hold, but it needed to be done. He hadn't been treated this harshly since the day he'd come back from a two day long hunt only to find that this same fucking man had left his scumbag brother on that roof.
The déjà vu struck him and for some reason he found himself laughing weakly at it and most of the fight left him. Carol brought her hands up to her mouth, looking even more disturbed by the laughter rattling out of him.
"Hey. Hey," Rick whispered soothingly, slowly slipping him down to the ground gently so he didn't smack his face into the open door of the CJ or the concrete, "We need you here, Daryl. We need you to hold it together…Look. Look at Carol."
Daryl felt Rick's weight pressing him to the cold road as he breathed the dust and tiny pebbles into his open mouth. He spat the mud out and did what Rick had told him to do without even thinking about it. He looked up at her and saw how terrified she was that he was coming apart at the seams right there in front of her. Somehow his brain came back on just then and he went limp in Rick's grasp, eyes still on Carol's. He sucked in a breath.
"I'm- Lemme go. M'fine." He breathed out. Rick waited a second, almost not believing that he could regain his composure that quickly, but he pulled himself from Daryl's shoulders and sat up in a crouch next to him. Daryl pushed himself up to sit next to Rick and finally pulled his eyes from Carol. He let his head loll back against the jeep's step for a second as he caught his breath. Rick spoke quietly after a moment.
"I don't even wanna imagine Lori- She and I…We've had our problems lately, but…I can't even begin to know what you're going through right now, and I'm sorry it's happening."
Rick shook his head and then Daryl felt him looking his way. He found his boots in front of him much easier to look at just then, again, feeling like a child who'd once again just messed something up. Broken something.
"…But you, of all people, know we can't go into this situation blindly, Daryl. If we have any chance of getting them out of this alive, we need to know what we're up against."
"Yeah, and?" he answered, trying his best to work his old annoyed voice into the words.
"Tyreese and Chris…When they were walking through the woods before, they came down through a clearing on that hill, just over that way," Rick began as he pointed to his left. Daryl's eyes followed his finger north and then looked over to his friend finally.
"They saw a whole bunch of buildings grouped together…A compound. That's where they were headed."
Rick looked up to Carol at that, and Daryl could see it in his eyes that he was gauging her. Trying to figure out if he would have to deal with her flying off the handle as well with the information he was about to offer. It made Daryl uneasy.
"I looked at the map. We're just outside Macon…That compound they were headed to is Macon State. A prison."
Daryl's head snapped to his right, and he looked directly into Rick's grave, blue pools. He didn't know what he felt just then. He could have been pissed again, agreeable, thankful…He didn't know what to make of the swirl of emotions smashing around inside his brain. It was a dumb fucking idea…If it failed. But if it worked, it would have been fucking brilliant.
...
Sixty miles lay between them and the town of Woodbury. That's what the map said. Sixty miles, give or take, and who knows how many hours or fucking days this would end up taking. They'd traveled the remainder of the short distance through the woods to four square miles of open, used up land that blotched the map. Carol had turned the lights out well before they'd come upon the parking lot. They wanted to see it before they committed to anything. Rick had jumped in the uncomfortable back seat of the CJ and perched atop the loads of messy supplies that had been heaped in so the three of them could scout out the area.
Normally, Carol would have sat this part out, but Daryl knew why Rick had told her to come instead of Glenn. Rick needed her close by in case Daryl flew off the handle again. Daryl hadn't the slightest idea how it came to be that Carol was the one person in existence that could keep his ass grounded like that. Pru couldn't even do that for him. Hell, that woman, if anything, amplified any emotion he had, latched onto it, and spat it back in his face, most of the time with an even greater intensity. Sometimes he'd look back on the first couple of weeks he'd known her and wondered how they hadn't ripped each other to pieces. Carol, though…Carol was like someone dropping a block of ice into a kettle of boiling water.
He huffed as Rick leaned forward a bit more between the two front seats and sat there silently for a while, listening, looking through the dark windows uselessly. Daryl was already on edge and coiled, and the last thing he wanted right now was to be fucking crowded. Rick passed him a flashlight and he took it with a silent nod.
"Don't turn it on just yet." The other man murmured, moving to let himself out. Daryl followed behind him, leaving Carol in the driver's seat, engine idling.
They could hear it as soon as they stepped out of the damn jeep. Even over that massive, growling engine. The hissing and the groaning and the unrest of the dead penned like cattle in the dark yards of the prison ahead of them. The chain link fences pinged and trembled as the walkers aimlessly wandered into them and then bounced off. The sound caused the hair on the back of Daryl's neck to stand on end. Who knew how many of them were jammed in that yard…In those hallways and cells like fucking sardines, stewing in their own putrefaction for months and months now.
"I'm starting to think this could be a bad idea." Rick whispered, and it was barely decipherable over the drone of the dead and the engine.
"Starting?" Daryl scoffed. He was quiet for a long moment as he and Rick stood there, weapons drawn and trained on the black abyss in front of them.
"We need them weapons…Whatever's in there…We're gunna need everythin' we can get."
Rick said nothing, but something told Daryl that Rick was nodding in agreement. He started backing toward the door of the jeep again, alert and on guard against the darkness and his friend followed closely behind.
"Gotta wait til sun up. Don' make a lick'a sense to be out here right now." He needlessly said as he pulled himself back up and into the relative safety of the vehicle. He closed the door quietly as Rick uttered a 'yeah' and closed his door up, too. They'd been outside that jeep for around forty-five seconds, and that was being generous. But that short amount of time spent in the moonless, open night's embrace, that close to what sounded like a herd's worth of gnashing jaws…He'd fucking admit to it right now. That's how intense the feeling was. He was creeped the fuck out.
"Let's get back." Rick said quietly from his spot between he and Carol's shoulders, and without hesitating, Carol backed the jeep up, turned it around, and crawled it back down the road to where the others were waiting.
When they joined back up with the rest of the group they were all briefed on the change in plans. It was then suggested that everyone climbed back in the cars and tried to rest, but the suggestion, directed mainly at him, was laughable. He and Carol had sat up most of the night in complete silence. Her breaths became steady and heavy at some point and it was then that he realized she'd been trying to stay up the entire time because he'd not yet fallen asleep, not yet wanting to let him out of her sight.
"Fuckin'…McMurphy." He'd mused to himself in a whisper, feeling very much like the psych ward resident from the book he'd read over and over years ago as he eyed Carol's slumped form in the seat next to her. He leaned over a bit, grabbing the keys in the ignition and turned them so that the car's battery lit up the dash without kicking the engine over.
2:58
He clicked the power back off and settled back to his seat. The sun wouldn't be up for another three and a half hours, at least. He rubbed at his sore eyes and huffed, wishing he could will the sky alight, and he sat that way, in the dark, for hours, thinking on the horrors were possibly befalling those women as they sat idly in these parked cars, dozing like it was nothing. At some point though, his mind had again shifted, and he was slightly comforted by how firm Rick had been. Rick had been right, and he knew if he was the one outside this situation, looking in, he'd not only agree with the man, but he'd be leading the call for a more solid plan of attack.
He hadn't realized he'd dozed off, but he was simultaneously ashamed of and thankful for the small amount of sleep he'd managed when his eyes snapped open. He looked around, confusedly for a moment, from Carol and then finally skyward out the windshield. The sun was beginning to cast a faint hum of lavender-grey light into the cold, overcast sky. Fucking finally. He leaned over to gently shake Carol by the shoulder to wake her.
"Carol. Hey…Sun's comin' up."
She pulled her head from the space between the headrest and the window with a start and blinked around the car for a second trying to get her tired eyes to focus. Once she was relatively alert she nodded and scrubbed her hands over her face roughly.
"Okay." She whispered, more to herself than to him as she pulled her hands from her face and wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel and flexed them a few times. Satisfied that she'd now joined him in the waking world, he nodded to her once, grabbed his crossbow up out of the back seat, and pushed out of the jeep. His stiff legs and numb ass protested as he moved along the cars to the head of the line. He came to the driver side window of the Suburban and didn't hesitate to knock hard on the window. Everyone in the truck sprung from sleep immediately, the same way Carol had. Rick's startled eyes met his briefly and he saw realization click in his head. Rick put a hand up to tell Daryl he was awake and he'd soon be ready to get moving.
Ten minutes later, everyone was up, milling around the cars, and eating out of tin cans as they listened to the plan that Rick had thought up before he'd fallen to sleep. They'd roll back up the road in a minute to stake the overrun yard out and look for their hole before he, Daryl, Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, and Tyreese would make their their way inside. Carol and Herschel would stay behind to look after Lori, Carl, and Chris.
He warned everyone of the sheer number of walkers that he and Daryl suspected to be in the yard alone by the sounds they'd heard in the dark last night. It would be a long, bloody, dangerous, and arduous task, getting inside the walls of that prison, but it would be worth it. Rick made that clear. They needed to stay focused and work as one, keeping an eye out for each other. Then Rick had stopped his pacing in front of the group and dropped his head. His pregnant pause echoed more loudly amongst the cars and the trees on that road than any single word in his little pep talk had. He cleared his throat before he spoke again.
"If any of us are bit- We can't afford to risk the rest of us when we're in there…Especially when we know what'll happen."
Everyone was silent as the absorbed the gravity of what Rick was saying and despite him beating around the bush about it, the idea seemed to be rather clear to everyone that stood there.
"If you're bitten, there will be no attempt made to help you. You'll have to be left behind. Probably to be torn to shreds…Alone."
Daryl watched as Maggie reached for Glenn's hand and squeezed it hard. He rolled his eyes at the action, but inwardly felt just a bit nauseated. The thought of watching any one of the group being left to die such a bloody and painful death made him wince, but again, Rick was right and he'd be the first one to back him on that. There was nothing could be done if one of them fell to a walker's bite. Their fate would be sealed.
Goodbyes were said quickly by everyone who needed to say them. After he noticed Tyreese shooting him a pathetic, sadly apologetic look, Daryl assumed Rick had told him exactly why they were doing this the night before. He glared back, feeling exposed, and quickly took himself out of the awkward and intimate scene, anxious to leave and opting to grab up the driver's seat in the Suburban. He hopped in and started it up immediately, letting everyone know that they better hurry their asses up if they didn't want him running off on what would be a solo suicide mission. It worked. The rest of the crew was quickly inside the vehicle and they were off, back down the road leading to the entrance of Macon State.
Now, in the light of the early morning, as they came upon the end of the trees that bordered the prison's property, Daryl could see just what they were dealing with. He stopped the SUV well out of earshot and sight of the geeks and turned the engine off as he leaned forward over the wheel. He folded his arms over the top of it and huffed, looking over to Rick, beside him. Maggie shot up from the back between the shoulders of the two massive men that were directly behind Daryl and Rick.
"You can't be serious, Rick! There's too many!" she hissed as she clawed and slapped at his shoulder. Daryl started pushing her back as T-Dog and Glenn pulled her while Tyreese looked on, shocked at her sudden outburst.
"Knock it the hell of, girl! You got any better ideas, you speak up 'bout 'em now. Otherwise, keep quiet an' stop wastin' yer energy." Daryl said forcefully crooking a finger at her. She shot the hunter a scathing look, but melted back into her spot in the third row of seats next to Glenn. He looked back at Rick and the other man gave Daryl a look that was both thankful and apologetic. Daryl shook his head, rolling his eyes and turned forward again, squinting at the herd that milled about aimlessly a few hundred yards ahead.
A few quiet moments passed before Glenn spoke up from the back, passing the binoculars that hung from his neck forward so Rick and Daryl could get a look at what he was seeing.
"You see how most of them are off to the left?" he began, "I think something died out there pretty recently…It looks like a few of them are still…Eating…Something."
Daryl easily found the spot that he was referring to with his unaided eyes. Ten to fifteen corpses were kneeling over a mound of carrion, still picking it apart.
"…If we go all the way off to the right and hop the fence into that corridor, it looks like there's a door just inside the yard that's cracked open a little. That's our way in. Then, hopefully, we can make our way around, clear the inside, and get to a different door that isn't open to the yard so we can get everyone else in eventually."
Rick said nothing as he studied the area and ran the rolled the plan over in his head. After a few beats he nodded and passed the binoculars over to Daryl so he, too, could see where they were headed. It was as good a plan as they were going to get as far as Daryl could tell.
"Two fences…Everyone okay to make it over those?" Rick asked. He received a few reluctant grunts of confirmation from the rag-tag group at their backs. He turned back to Daryl then.
"What do you think?"
Daryl removed the twin scopes he had pressed to his eye sockets and passed them into the back seat and then grabbed his crossbow up. "I think we better get our asses movin', is what I think."
A sad, tight-lipped smile settled itself on Rick's face and he turned around in his seat to face the others. He passed Tyreese a lantern before he spoke up again.
"Alright, we're gunna go in to the right. Stay low and quiet. When we get to those gates, Daryl and Tyreese are gunna go up and over first, then Glenn and Maggie. T-Dog and I are going to be the last two over so we can cover from behind. They're gunna spot us immediately once were up on those fences, but they're slow, so it'll give us all a chance to get down and in."
He turned back to Daryl at that point and put a hand to his shoulder. "You two keep the road clear. Once we're all in, we close our ranks and make our way to that door," he withdrew his hand and turned to the rest of the passengers again, "We don't stop for anything…No guns unless absolutely necessary. Make sure they're loaded now, but use them only if you've got to…And don't expect to be safe once we're inside that door…There's probably going to be more waiting in there."
Daryl absently felt for the screwdriver he'd stashed in his pocket before they'd all loaded up into the cars. That and his buck knife would have to do for hand-to-hand. The others were also in possession of various melee weapons. Glenn, Maggie and Rick with their machetes, T-Dog with a bat and hatchet at his hip, and Tyreese had a crowbar. It was the crowbar Pru had sat upon atop that privacy fence with as she swung away at the dead beneath her and Carl, on the morning after the farm had been taken by the dead. He grunted absently at the thought and shifted his weight in the seat as Rick finished up his speech, itching to dive out and get this over with already.
"…Everyone ready? Stay together."
That's all he could take anymore. He pushed the door open and stepped out, done with waiting for Rick to hold everyone's goddamn hand, but they all filed out behind him promptly. He made his way around the front of the car and, along with Rick, started to lead the way in a crouched, quick run along the tree line. He took note that everyone was actually doing a pretty good job at keeping their steps light and quiet through the dry and overgrown winter grass beyond the road.
They moved together and quickly as one, and got to the chain link fence quicker than he'd anticipated. He handed his crossbow off to Rick when he realized they'd need something to guard their skin against the sharp razorwire that lined the top of the gates. He stripped off his denim jacket and leather vest quickly, the chill in the air stabbing immediately into his bare arms, and he brought it up to his mouth so he could hold it in his teeth. He grabbed his weapon back from Rick and began to pull himself up onto the barrier alongside Tyreese. The metal fence complained and shook under their weight as they reached the top, and as Daryl threw his jacket over, he looked up and saw that the walkers had, indeed spotted them. He rolled over the top as he shouted back for the others to start making their ascent and jumped down, landing in a crouch like a cat on the other side. Tyreese landed beside him not a second later, giving Daryl a nod of approval as he settled into a defensive stance, waiting for the walkers to begin making their way over.
Thankfully, not many of the dead prisoners and guards had made their way into the fenced corridor that lined the second fence. It gave him a few moments to ready himself with his knife before the first few made their way within striking distance. The curved end of Tyreese's crowbar found the skull of the first walker while Daryl lunged for the second. Both staggering bodies fell to the floor as Glenn's feet made contact with the ground behind him.
"Hurry up, we got more comin'!" Daryl called behind him as he looked further down the line of fences. A half dozen limp bodies were bumbling their way faster than he thought possible. Suddenly Glenn and Maggie were at their sides, bracing themselves along with them for the walkers that would make it to them before Rick and T-Dog could make it over the fence.
Maggie's machete sliced easily through the forehead of a former inmate, and it listed forward and to her left as it fell to the ground, coming uncomfortably close to her. She let out a loud chirp of a yelp and backed up some, leaving Daryl's left exposed briefly. As he jammed his long hunting knife into the rotted temple of another walker, the sick hand of a third clamped down on his shoulder. For a flash he thought it was Rick, doing as he always did, until the hand grew painfully tight on his skin.
"DUCK!" Maggie shouted, and somehow he knew she was talking to him. He sank down just as he heard the snarl in his ear. A second later a severed head fell to the dirt and rolled onto his boot as it continued to gnash its yellowed, disgusting teeth at him. He stood and brought his foot down hard on the face twice, effectively snuffing it. He turned to glare at Maggie and he was met with a remorseful smile.
"Sorry." She apologized as Rick and T-Dog finally made their way over and hopped off the fence.
"You can make up fer it by watchin' mah back a bit better next time." He said tersely as Rick passed the jacket back to him.
"Move!" Rick ordered, and with that, Daryl was on the second fence, making his way up and into the yard quicker than he'd climbed the first. When he'd vaulted down off the fifteen foot high hurdle, the walkers that had been on the other side of the vast yard were already closing in. The first wave of four walkers was only about ten feet away from the foot of the fence. He snatched his bow off his back and fired the bolt that had been loaded into it. It found its mark and he bowed to reload as Tyreese came to his side. He reloaded his weapon and stowed it at his back again as Tyreese smashed the ghoulish face of next geek to traipse up to them. Daryl raised his knife and screwdriver, ready for the next two. By the time they'd dispatched the other two, there was a small heard of about ten, spread out loosely, making their way over.
"We're about to need a hand here, folks." Tyreese's deep voice called to everyone else. Maggie was already over the fence, but she was still standing beneath Glenn whose shoelaces had snagged on the razors.
"C'mon, Glenn!" Daryl barked, looking over his shoulder quickly. Glenn squawked as he fought with own foot.
"Maggie, help them!" he yelped down at her. She backed away from the fence and lined up with the two men as they waited. Rick and T-Dog were already on the fence in an effort to escape a few more walkers that were visible through the chain links. Rick pushed at Glenn to roll him over the side while T-Dog untied his sneaker.
"GO! GO!" T-Dog snapped, fingers trying to work the knot free amongst the sharp barbs. Glenn's foot slid from the shoe and he finally dropped to the ground, falling on his ass. He stood and drew his machete from its sheath as T-Dog dropped next to him with his shoe.
"GUYS!" Daryl snapped again as he raised his knife and crouched. He heard the final member of their party's feet hit the dirt just as the first walker made its way to Tyreese. Soon the other three were among them in a line as they started hacking, hammering, and stabbing away at the dead. They formed into a tight semi-circle and crept slowly to their right, where the door was. Twenty-five feet of open yard stood between them and the slightly ajar door into the belly of the correctional facility. Twenty-five feet that felt like a mile. Daryl's heart slammed against his chest as Tyreese and Glenn drew their ranks tighter next to him. He lashed out again and again as the shuffled slowly towards the portal in the stark, grey wall.
"Stay together!" Rick panted loudly as the droves of the dead crept closer and attacked wildly. Daryl could hear Maggie letting go of a vicious battle cry behind him as she hacked into another head. He'd felled at least ten now, alone, by his count, and more were on their way.
"Move faster!" he growled to the people at his right, bumping into Tyreese a bit to urge him on.
"Tryin'!" Tyreese answered. The man had apparently grown weary of using the crowbar as a bat, and was now jabbing at the dead with the flat sharp end as he plowed forward. It was working well, and he and Rick were finally making progress toward the heavy steel door.
A moment later they'd backed to the wall next to the door. Rick threw it open and illuminated the black tunnel with his flashlight while the others covered his back. Apparently, it was clear for right now, because he started yelling for everyone to get inside. Daryl stood stock, back to him until he felt everyone but Tyreese leave his side. There was a very small break in the flow of walkers, and he turned to glare up at the massive man.
"The fuck is wrong with you, man? Get in there!" he snapped before he lunged forward again with his screwdriver. Tyreese's huge form backed into the dark space with Rick and the others, and finally Daryl began withdrawing his assault on the encroaching corpses. He sheathed his knife and grabbed for the handle of the heavy door and pulled it shut quickly behind him. As he slammed it closed, he heard the dull thump of bodies mashing their weight into it over and over again.
"Everyone okay?" Rick's voice came at a puffed whisper a brief second later. Daryl slumped forward, leaning his forearm against the cold steel hatch that was keeping the walkers at bay, and then dipped his head to rest it against his arm.
"Yeah." He panted, answering for himself, "…Okay."