Daryl watches the kids with curiosity. They move with utmost safety through the undergrowth. As if they belong there. It seems to him as if they absorb their surroundings, they hear and see and smell everything and they become one with their environment. They are born hunters. Daryl is almost a bit jealous. Not even he moves so securely and invisible in the woods.
"Who taught you to survive out here?" he asks.
It's the girl answering. "Everybody teaches in our community. And everybody learns. You have a skill...you teach. It's simple. We all can hunt and skin the game. And everybody can cook. And make bolts. And tend wounds. Shoot. Do, what is necessary to live and survive."
"It's a good thing. Whoever has set up this, had a good idea."
Daryl smiles faintly, thinking about Carol's story time at the prison. She wanted the little ones to be able to defend themselves. Wanted them to be strong. It must be ten years. Ten long years since the Rickinator banished her. Left her like yesterdays garbage. Send her away. Her. Carol. The love of Daryl's life. It still hurts. And it will hurt for eternity. He hates Rick for what he did to her. To him.
When he learnt the truth, he punched Rick square on his nose. He remembers the satisfaction, when he felt the bone cracking, when he felt Rick's blood smeared across his knuckles.
When he was ready to leave the prison and go after her, hell broke loose. The governor came. And everything went down the drain.
They lost the prison. They lost family. They were on the run, constantly.
They lost so many. Family, friends.
But everywhere, Daryl goes, he looks for her.
Maybe one day...
One day, he will look into her beautiful eyes again.
One day, she will be his again.
He knows,his chances are minimal. Like Andrea said so many years ago: Nobody can make it on it's own.
And Carol had been on her own, thanks to Officer Dick.
But Daryl won't give up hope. And hey, you can't blame a guy for hoping, can you?
The small tour group makes mile after mile in silence.
Daryl, who never really needs company, feels comfortable with the two kids. Strangely enough. He's not tense around them kids. Maybe, it's because they are kids. Maybe he would be tense and anxious around foreign adults.
"How far away is your home?" Daryl asks. The sun starts getting down and the cold creeps into his bones. He isn't as tough as he used to be.
"Another few hours. But we will rest in the nearest treehouse", the boy explains.
"There are more?"
"I told you", the girl reciprocates.
They continue walking, until the boy stops and his index finger points to a large tree "There it is!", he exclaims.
Daryl looks at the tree, but he can't see anything unusual. It's just another large tree, like all the others around.
"You sure?"
The girl frowns at Daryl. "Of course, we are sure. We know, where our trees are", she says with certainty and starts to climb the tree like a high rope artist in the circus. Daryl looks slightly panicked. There is no way, he can climb like that.
"Ain't a fuckin' monkey", he grumbles.
"No shit..." he hears the girl from high above.
And than there is another rope ladder dangling in front of him.
At dizzying heights, there is a solid platform, walls and a ceiling, made of wood. It's secure up here. And when you don't know about it, you won't be able to find it. Hell, Daryl, one of the best trackers of all, wouldn't have discovered it.
The kids spread blankets on the floor, Hunter hands Daryl a bottle of water, some dried meat and a bunch of hard biscuits. They eat in silence.
"These treehouses are a great idea. Whoever has divised them, he was a fuckin' genius."
"She", the girl utters. "It was a she. It was mom's idea."
"Like almost everything at home", Hunter says with proud in his voice.
"Sounds like an interesting woman", Daryl drawls.
"She is!" Rose promises. "You'll see. Tomorrow you will meet her. She's great. She is a warrior queen and the niecest person you ever know. She built a home for us when she was all alone. And now we have a community, like a town or so. There are walls and fences, and all of us are willing to defend ourselves. Nobody is worth more than another. We depend on each other and we can rely on each other. It's great." The girl's voice is solemn and her brother nods at her words.
Daryl smiles. Maybe these people built themselves a society worth all the trouble. Maybe this is, what he had hoped for so long. A place, that really worked.
Tomorrow he will be wiser.
The three lie down to sleep and Daryl dreams of Carol. It is one of the good dreams. Sometimes they are full of blood and gore and fear and screams. And on other times they are peaceful, full of love and smiles and eyes, deep as the ocean.
Glenn and Michonne found some boxes of cheap wine on a run and Rick decided, all of them could use a break and so they had some kind of party that night. They talked, they laughed, they all saw Glenn getting shitfaced again, Michonne and Rick danced to some music played by a battery-powered CD player.
Daryl spent the entire evening watching Carol. He was mesmerized by the sparkle in her eyes, by the sight of her pink tongue, darting out and wettening her lips. And when she smiled at him, his heartbeat grew faster and his mouth went dry.
They weren't drunk, just tipsy enough to be bold. Tipsy enough to reach for something, they would soberly fail.
Tipsy enough to look into each others eyes and see the deepth of their feelings.
But they were sober enough to act on their feelings.
They hugged each other in the darkness of this night, they gave each other hope and love and a reason to go on.
They moved as one, this night, in a dance as old as mankind, her hips meeting each of his thrusts, limbs entangled, saltly sweat on their bodies, lips tasting, fingers stroking, souls embracing.
This is the best dream.
Besides, it is no dream, it's a memory.
The one and only time, they were together.
Things went down after this evening. The illness spread, the governor came and Carol was gone.