Many thanks to: Brilcrist fro Deviantart for allowing her lovely image of Daryl for the cover of this story.
Find her on Deviantart!
The forest during the night used to be the safest place on earth – the chance of meeting anyone who would be willing to mug or stab you was next to zero, comparing to big cities. There you could never know who is friend or foe, and here, among the hundred-year-old trees it was always clear. But it was all changed. The Walkers were rather easy to figure out, but humans – you could never tell now. Looter, or just a lost soul, you had to hit first and ask later.
Daryl checked the trail. It was light, even and shallow, a child or maybe a light-weight grownup, definitely not a walker, which would leave rough, smudgy footprints. After a second thought it must have been a grownup, maybe a woman wearing tracker shoes. The trail seemed to head towards their camp, so Daryl took the crossbow off his shoulder and put on an arrow. Rick told them about other groups, and Randall was a fair warning about trying to make friends. He swiftly followed the trail, , which ended just a hundred feet from the camp – he could see Carl sitting next to Lori, and Rick discussing something with Hershel. And a small, crouching figure next to a bush, gazing right at the camp. It was dark, but the man could see some details: a dark-purple hoodie, jeans that must have been blue once and heavy-duty shoes which left a track so clear to a trained eye. The figure could have been a teenager, or most probably, a woman, though this didn't mean she wasn't dangerous. Daryl tried to come closer, but it seemed their guest wasn't deaf too and when Daryl grazed a bush, which rustled, the figure stiffened and seemed to back off. This was the moment.
- Stop right there, pal. Hands where I see them – said Daryl out loud, to be sure the trespasser hears him. He sure heard, because instead of just standing up and behaving like a good prisoner, he instantly nipped to the side. Daryl took this as a"no, thank you" to his peaceful offer of turning in and shot where he thought the trespasser was. He heard a loud cry and a gasp, when something fell – he could hear the stomp of a body hitting the ground. He rushed to where the trespasser fell, noticing a few stains of fresh blood. He also heard the camp aroused, and minding the fact that who he saw may not have been alone here, he shouted "Here!" and went to check if the chick was dead. She was lying a few meters away, and there was a lot of blood around her neck. Damn, he really wanted to know if she was alone here and dead don't speak. They walk and moan, but don't speak.
Daryl kneeled warily, keeping in mind that this may be just a trick, and he really wasn't wrong. The second he knelt, the woman moved and kicked him. He was ready though, and her plans were spoilt because what was meant to break his knee, just grazed his calf and Daryl simply grabbed her hood, swearing. Feeling his hand pulling her back she unzipped the hoodie and wanted to leave it behind, like a lizard shedding its tail, but Daryl was too smart for this trick. He dropped the hoodie, but then she tried to take a knife strapped to her leg, but before she could reach it, Daryl leaped forward, catching her in half. They fell to the ground, and the woman turned out to be a real match: she didn't scratch or bite to set herself loose, she fought like hell. She wrung Daryl's hand when he tried to hold her down, but she was at least thirty pounds lighter and hurt – blood was flowing fast from the wound on her neck.
- Stop struggling, you stupid b… - he didn't had the chance to finish, as she simply head-butted him. This was where Daryl drew a line, and simply socked her. The girl stopped struggling, as he wished – she was out cold.
- What the hell is happening here? – asked Rick, who stood a few feet away, with a gun, Hershel and Glenn behind him, all looking at the blood-covered body beneath Daryl.
- Is she dead? – asked Glenn to whom the amount of blood around seemed too much. Daryl let go of the woman's wrists and stood up.
- I'm fine, thanks for asking – he sneered –She was prying around the camp. - There won't be any case if she bleeds out – Hershel kneeled beside the girl, who seemed approximately the age of his elder daughter, Maggie. She was much smaller though, red-haired and freckled, now all covered in blood that came from a wound.
- Bring me the first aid kit, she's bleeding a lot – said Hershel - You're lucky you didn't hit her a bit to the right, you'd pierce her neck
- She's the lucky one I didn't have time to aim right! – retorted Daryl – She was poking around the camp and I see another Randall case here, guys.
- We'll see, because we can't kill her now – said Rick – Let's wait till she's conscious again, and hear what she has to say. You should stop that bleeding too, Daryl – he pointed to his face. Daryl felt his face, and saw blood when looked at his hand. Suddenly he realized that his nose was bleeding heavily and the pain came from there. In the heat of the moment he didn't feel it, but the woman smashed his nose.
- Bitch – he murmured, examining the nose. It didn't seem to be broken, she didn't have enough strength or a good aim, but it bled rather badly.
- You're next on my chair, son – said Hershel, wrapping the unconscious girl in his jacket and allowing Rick to take her to camp. Daryl sneered angrily.
- She'll be nothing but trouble – he said, but didn't argue.
Half an hour later, after taking care of both the young woman's shoulder, Hershel checked out Daryl's nose, ensuring that it's not broken, but will hurt awhile. They searched the woman. She has messenger bag, and inside they found pain meds, some chocolate bars and a pocket knife. On the girl herself they found a small caliber gun and a hunting knife strapped to her thigh. They took that away, and only then they wanted to give their guest smelling salts, but it turned out they didn't have any.
- Just slap her, looking at Daryl she can take it quite fine – shrugged Maggie, and just followed her own advice. The girl started to regain consciousness, coughing. And the first thing she saw was a man holding a gun to her head. It must have been an impulse, because she tried reaching the knife holster, which was empty. Rick just poked her arm with the barrel.
- No pointy things there – he said - Now, lady, tell me who are you, and why were you observing our camp.
- Take your gun out of my face or screw you! – she said with a strange, foreign accent, her teeth clenched. Rick looked at her. The redhead girl was trembling with anger, but too weak at the moment to hurt him if she tried, and her knife and anything she could use as a weapon was taken away from her when Carol searched her rather thorough. If putting the gun away was a way to make her talk, so be it. There was T-Dog and Daryl a few steps behind him, and Maggie, standing a bit further. So he put the gun in the holster. The girl seemed surprised, as if she expected him to hit her or maybe even worse, and looked at them as a deer would, when a car which was about to hit it started slowing down.
- So, now the gun is out of your face, so could you please tell me who you are and what were you doing outside of the camp? – he asked. The girl rolled her big brown eyes from one man to the next, and back.
- Éireann Corey – she said, leaning on her elbow. Everyone understood she was introducing herself.
- What kind of a name is that? – Daryl butted in.
- Welsh – she replied sharply – Want my family tree drawn out for you?
- Drop it, you two – Rick cut their lip off before it could turn to something louder – Are you a part of some group? Are you a scout?
- That sounded serious, Ranger Rick – she looked at him with disbelief, but the look Rick gave her discouraged her from being sarcastic again - No, I'm here alone.
- How come? This place is Miles away from any reasonable town.
- I'm from Senoia – she replied without any hesitation. Rick looked at Maggie as if checking Éireann's statement, but Maggie nodded that there was a town of that name nearby.
- What are you doing here? – he pursued.
- I was trying to get to Newman, search for food and water, maybe a shelter if the place wasn't overrun. I stumbled across you first. I'm trying to keep off roads, but recently there's tons of dead meat here also – she went along with the interrogation.
- Why were you hiding? – she snorted at first, but they looked rather oblivious, so she explained.
- Last time I came across a group they said I could have food and protection, but the price was laying on my back when they wished, and when I passed the offer they tried to charge me anyway - she shrugged, as if she was explaining that the shy was blue.
- How do you know we're different? – asked T-Dog.
- I wanted to make sure, but this asshole shot me! – she nodded at Daryl, who drew up, his mouth twisted in an angry scowl.
- You were trying to gut me!
- That was after you took me for target practice! – she replied angrily, jumping up and pointing her finger at him - And I thought you wanted to rape me!
- I wouldn't try even if you lay there naked – he snapped.
- Shut it you two, again – Rick cut in before Éireann thought of some sort of a nasty comeback, just in cast standing in between her, and Daryl. She was picking a fight and he felt that Daryl wouldn't act gentlemen-like and allow her to order him around.
- So you are alone? Completely? – asked Hershel, judging her stature. She seemed to be a cat which imagined itself a tiger.
- Yeah, and I won't bother you if you let me go. I took care of myself long enough.
- You're wounded. That lessens your chances alone – Hershel said looking at Rick with a question drawn out in his face. Éireann also raised her eyebrows.
- Alone?
- With other people you could have a better chance. No charge of the kind you were speaking of, if you play nicely with others and share chores like cooking, washing and whatever you can do – he said at last. Éireann leaned her head, as dogs do when they hear a new sound.
- Why do you want me in your group? Aren't you scared I'm a murdering maniac?
- We hope not – admitted Hershel, which made both Daryl and Éireann grunt sarcastically almost at the same moment. That was some kind of a weak hope.
- You got so close to the camp without anyone hearing you. This might be a damn useful skill, and you'll know there is someone to watch out for you. That doesn't mean we fully trust you, but it's a mutual benefit.
- So, you propose a treaty? – she grinned, shaking her head. Rick nodded. Éireann thought for a moment, and raised her arms in a gesture of surrender.
- Fine, if you are willing to take the chances, so am I. Call me Erin, Ranger Rick. You have a name or can I call you that? – she right at this moment she could not possibly understand why suddenly everyone was trying not to burst into laughter, except for the man speaking with her, who turned red.
Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up -James A. Baldwin