"We should probably pick up the pace a little. Don't wanna stick around that fire too long. Gonna attract walkers from all around here." Daryl guided Beth downwind and further into the moonlit woods. They could still feel the heat of the burning house on their backs. The smell of burning wood and walker flesh pushing at them through the night air. The night creatures had fled as soon as the first flames had licked the front porch. They needed to do the same.
For close to an hour, they kept a steady, rhythmic pace through the Georgia backwoods until they came to a dirt road and began following its lead. As the minutes stretched toward morning, only the sounds of their panting kept them company. Just as dawn broke, they came upon an abandoned pickup truck. Daryl motioned for Beth to climb into the bed and he followed.
"Get some sleep. I'll keep watch." Daryl could feel the exhaustion from the previous day soaking itself deep into his bones, but he'd let her sleep first.
"You need sleep, too. And food. Eat something, at least. And wake me up in a couple of hours. I'll keep watch for you. No more 'I'm not tired' excuses, Daryl Dixon. You're the walking definition of tired right now." She pushed the backpack they'd found in the country club underneath her head and tried to make herself as comfortable as the body of the truck would allow. It might as well have been concrete, though. Her efforts futile. She sighed against the pain as the aluminum scored itself into her lower back.
Daryl grunted in response. Whether he'd actually do as she said was yet to be seen. She hated that he didn't trust her enough to keep watch. That he wouldn't allow himself to be so physically vulnerable with only her around. That needed changing and fast. He couldn't keep this up and still keep them safe. Tired was far too synonymous with dead these days.
"Later this afternoon, will you teach me how to use your crossbow? And maybe even to track? Like your dad taught you? I could be useful, you know. If you don't mind showing me how." Despite all her discomfort, exhaustion was winning the battle and her eyelids were growing heavier with each passing moment.
He looked at her then. Seeing how small she looked curled up on her side. But he'd been small once, too. Smaller even than her under his daddy's belt. And if that couldn't break him, he shouldn't discount her worth in this new world either.
"That damn bow probably weighs more than you." He saw her smile, like something he'd said was funny.
"Don't you worry. I'm a lot heavier than I look, Mr. Dixon." And finally she was asleep. That smile still on her face.