Chapter 2.
The next morning they all got together and decided to stay at the campsite a few more days to see if a very pissed off Merle Dixon showed up. There were other ideas tossed around and debated back and forth. Shane suggested they head to Fort Benning. Rick thought they might have better luck at the CDC. The Morales' were considering trying to connect back up with their family in Texas. No one really knew what the best option was.
Lylah was surprised to find herself actually enjoying being around these people over the next couple of days. Lylah would often spend a good bit of the day with Carl and Sophia - she frequently volunteered to watch them while Lori and Carol were busy. She would read to the kids or teach them lessons out of the school books. Lori and Carol both insisted they continue "school" which gave the children some semblance of normalcy during all this craziness. Lylah respected that and loved being able to help out.
The kids loved it when she took them down to the quarry to play. As they walked through the woods towards the water, she usually found herself telling them stories her grandpa had told her when she was little - fantastic tales that only the Irish can tell properly. But what Lylah remembered the most about her grandpa was his singing. Sometimes Lylah would sing to them songs in a strange language Sophia had never heard. Other songs were fun and silly – Carl liked those best.
Sophia's favorite were the nights that Lylah volunteered to put her to bed. It broke Lylah's heart to see how afraid the little girl was of her creepy Dad - it brought up painful memories. But Carol seemed to sense that Lylah needed to help her protect Sophia. In an unspoken pact, Carol would do her best to keep Ed away in the evening, while Lylah would put Sophia to bed. Lylah would stroke the little girl's hair, and sing to her celtic lullabies as she would drift off to sleep - reminding Lylah of another little girl she used to sing to sleep….
On his hunting trips, Daryl found himself down by the quarry more and more, watching over Lylah and the kids from a distance. He liked hearing her sing - liked watching her play with the kids. In the evening the kids would ask her to sing with everyone around, but she always refused. She would only sing when she was alone with kids, or when softly singing to Sophia at night. Daryl hated to think of himself as a stalker, so he told himself he was keeping an eye on them, making sure they were safe.
The days had started to fall into a pleasant pattern. She had almost allowed herself to forget the constant danger they were in …. Almost. She'd been so focused on protecting herself from the walking dead lately, she'd forgotten that the living were just as dangerous, if not more so.
Lylah had been down at the quarry with the rest of the women: Amy, Andrea, Jacqui, and Carol (she didn't know where Lori was?). They were having a good time - gossiping and laughing about all the things they missed from before. Carol's jerk husband, Ed, apparently didn't think they should be having so much fun – even though all he did was sit on his ass the whole time. Andrea, unaccustomed to assuming a subservient role, took exception to this - quite vocally. During the fracas that ensued, Ed hauled off and smacked Carol across the face.
Shane wasn't far away when he saw the whole obscene event unfold. He marched over, enraged himself, and started beating the crap out of Ed. Lylah couldn't say she was sorry to see Ed get a taste of his own medicine, but Shane was out control himself. For a while there, she was afraid he was going to actually kill Ed. Lylah hoped this would at least keep Ed away from Sophia some more...
That evening, Daryl showed up with at least a dozen squirrels and even a rabbit that he shared with the group. Lylah had disassembled her tent and reset it up a good five feet or so over, so hopefully Daryl now had enough privacy now. She acknowledged to herself that leaving him the whole state of Georgia probably wouldn't be enough to make him happy.
As she sat their with Amy, Jacqui and Andrea - she noticed Daryl was by himself as he started skinning the squirrel carcasses.
"Doesn't Shane or Morales or anyone help him? I mean he does do all the hunting?", Lylah asked Amy.
"No, I've never seen anyone even try to talk to him when he does that. I think a lot of people just don't want to be around him much. He kinda scares me really", said Amy with those innocent blue eyes.
"But no one turns down the meat?" Lylah questioned.
Amy looked a little sheepish at that, and Lylah immediately felt bad as soon as the words left her mouth.
This was probably a big mistake, but Lylah knew she'd already decided what she was going to do. No use in dallying. She patted Amy's shoulder, as a silent apology and headed over to Daryl.
"Hi … Looks like you had a good hunting trip today," she complimented the hunter.
"Whaddya want lady? Cain't ya see I'm busy, or don't ya wanna eat tonite?" snarled Daryl.
He barely even looked at Lylah, just kept those blue eyes focused on the bloody task.
"I moved my tent….. You know, so … 'you'll be havin yer privacy' ", she attempted to mimic his
southern cracker accent, her attempt to lighten the mood a complete failure.
"Whatever", he grunted. Why wouldn't she just leave him the hell alone and go back over with those prissy blondes by the RV that looked down on him… she was makin' him uncomfortable, especially the way she spoke so softly and nicely to him – he didn't know how to respond to that, how to behave.
Lylah was about to turn and leave, when she remembered why she'd come over in the first place. She spun back around to face him.
' Why the hell does she have to git so damn close to me,' he thought. ' She smells good'…..Where the hell did that come from, he panicked. Why was he thinkin' 'bout how she smelled.
"You want some help with that"? Lylah offered softly as she stood really close to him to get a better view of what he was doing.
No one in the camp had offered to help clean the kill - not even Merle. He actually stopped what he was doing to look at her. Why was he having trouble swallowing? Just cause this prissy foreigner offered to help? What the hell….?
"You know how to skin and gut a squirrel?", he asked snarkily - intending to shut her down.
He almost laughed at the thought of her reaction to getting her prissy little hands all bloody from gutting an animal - she might ruin her manicure or sumthin.
"No - I'm ashamed to say I don't. My brothers tried to teach me - not squirrel, obviously – but deer and small game... but I always found a way to get out of doing it. Now I really wished I'd let them teach me the things they tried to.…. If you'll take some time to teach me though, I'll do my best. I'm not stupid. And I won't be squeamish!" she said somehow sensing that would be important to him.
"If you teach me, you won't always have to this by yourself", she continued her rationale.
"Why? Why you wanna do sumthin like this?", Daryl was baffled and for the first time actually
interested - his voice lacking the usual snarl.
"It's not that I particularly want to?" she answered honestly. "I just think I should - we all should. It's not fair that we all take what you hunt and leave you to clean it too", Lylah waited a second, then sighed, "So, you gonna teach me or what?"
Daryl Dixon was speechless... but decided to go ahead and show her. She'd probably quit anyway - faster to get rid of her by just givin' in.
Lylah surprised him with her natural skill. She was good with the knife, her precise movements effectively removing the small bits of meat. He continued to be surprised when she didn't go all girly, like that blond Amy did all the time. She was a quick study and wasn't squeamish, just like she'd promised.
The first squirrel Lylah gutted was a bit mangled, but Daryl salvaged it. He wouldn't let her ruin the rabbit, which was fine with her. She didn't want to be responsible for the loss of valued meat. The rest of the cleaning went quickly with both of them working together. Daryl wouldn't admit it, but he was impressed.
And Lord, she was beautiful – he couldn't stop himself from sneaking glances at her. Her skin reminded him of a soft white Georgia peach. And when she talked it was like she was whispering a song. Why was she bein' so nice to him? What was her game?
That evening Daryl had an even harder time not starin' at her, and it pissed him off. It pissed
him off more when he looked to see her tent farther down away from his, just like she said it would be. He realized he wanted Lylah's tent back where she'd put it the first dang place. It pissed him off that he was pissed off about it. He growled in frustration.
He gave the log a swift kick in frustration, as he headed into his tent for the night, bringing Lylah's eyes to his one last time before she too entered her tent for the evening.