Daryl rubbed his eyes free of sleep. The bed he slept in wasn't very comfortable, but it was better than the thin prison mattresses they had before. He stretched, kicked himself free from the tangle of blankets and dressed in his old clothing. He didn't bother to snoop through the closet; he was satisfied with his own clothing.
He pulled on his socks and his boots and kicked the door open. Beth's door was already open. Beth had been awake already. A shock of nervousness ran through his body. He knew how he left her last night, and he knew Beth's past track record of slicing her wrist open; he hoped she hadn't done anything rash. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself for leaving her.
He took the stairs two at a time, but stopped at the foot of the stairs. Beth was in the kitchen, wrangling open a can of food. Her head snapped to the sound of him. "Oh, morning, Daryl," she said, turning back to the can in her hands.
Daryl wandered over to where she was. "I was trying to open these peaches, but they just won't budge open," Beth explained through gritted teeth. Daryl only chuckled, but took the can from her. He easily turned the can opener and the can opened.
Beth huffed, but was thankful. "Peaches for breakfast?" Daryl asked, only slightly amused. Beth nodded.
"You got a better idea?" Daryl shook his head, rummaged through a drawer and found two forks. He handed one over to her and they shared the can of peaches then. They would have been better cooked, but they weren't in the best of luck that morning. They had nothing to wash the can out with so Beth trashed it. "I was going to look for a backpack or something so we could carry this with us."
Daryl was looking out the window. "It looks pretty clear out there. I was going to go to the next house over and see if it's clear," he said.
"I want to go with," she said. If it was just going to be the two of them, Beth needed to pull her weight. She wasn't comfortable with only Daryl being the one put in danger. "We're a team," she added. Daryl only stared at her with even eyes. He was making up his mind.
He sighed, but agreed. He slipped a knife out of his belt and held it out to her. "Use this, not your revolver. We don't want to attract any more than what's out there now," he said. "But we might want to find a backpack first to carry our rations back here."
"I'll check my room and you check yours?" Beth asked, reaching out and taking the knife from Daryl. He nodded and motioned for her to go first. Beth trudged up the stairs and walked into her room. She ransacked through her closet, finding only small handbags. She found one with a longer strap, almost like a messenger bag but more feminine.
She slung it across her body, it was better than nothing. She wandered down the hallway to Daryl's room. He had the place torn into pieces. Random articles of clothing were scattered around the room and shoes littered the floor. "I could only find one backpack," he said, pushing off his knees.
"I found this bag," she said, holding it up to him.
He nodded, "let's get going." Daryl walked out of the room leaving Beth to follow behind him. Beth squeezed the knife as they made it back down the stairs and back out the sliding glass door. Before they started across the lawn, Daryl stopped her. "If we get separated, we meet back here, okay. You lock yourself in your room and don't open it for anyone but me," he said.
Beth blinked up at him. It scared her to think about them getting separated. She had felt so safe back at the prison; she thought the life of venturing out into the unknown was done for her. "Okay," she agreed.
Daryl aimed his crossbow ahead of them as he started across the lawn separating the two houses. He peered into the windows as he approached the back door. Unlike the house before, it didn't have a sliding glass door. Instead, it had a regular door with only a small window at the top. Daryl tried the doorknob and it twisted open.
He swung the door open but didn't enter. He once again slipped one of his unused arrows out and tapped on the hardwood floor. There was a noise in the house. Daryl looked back to Beth. "Wait here," he said and started into the house.
Moments passed by and Beth finally heard the fire of Daryl's crossbow. Not once, but twice. Beth looked anxiously behind her. "Come on, Beth," Daryl said, returning to the door. "It's clear." Beth stepped into the house and closed the door behind her.
She wandered farther into the house and observed the two dead walkers lying on the dining room floor. She couldn't help but noticed they wore matching wedding bands. Beth adverted her eyes quickly. "I'll search the kitchen why you look around again?" Beth asked, looking to Daryl.
"Yeah," he said, lowering his crossbow and walking across the house. The layouts of the two houses were almost exactly alike, only flip flopped. Beth threw open all the cupboards; most of them empty except for a few boxes of cereal or crackers.
She opened the fridge to investigate. There was a jug of water and a half empty water bottle. She pulled them out and set them on the counter. Daryl had returned with another gun and a box of ammo. "This is all I found," Beth said, almost embarrassed.
Daryl set the gun and ammo down next to the cereal – an image Beth never thought she'd see. "All I found was this under the bed," Daryl said. "We can put it in your bag and the rest in my pack." Beth nodded, taking the gun and made sure the safety was on before she stuffed it into her bag with the ammo.
"Should we move onto the next house since there wasn't much here?" Beth asked, moving out from behind the counter. Daryl looked around the house once more.
"I guess we could. Just this one then we need to find a car," he said. Beth didn't feel the need to say anything. Daryl stuffed the boxes of food into his pack along with the jug of water. Beth led the way out of the house, knife poised in her hand.
She twisted the doorknob and stepped outside. Instantly she was being grabbed at. She hadn't realized what it was until she heard the hoarse hissing of the walkers. "Daryl!" She exclaimed, tumbling to her knees. The walker fell on top of her and Beth struggled to get him off of her.
Suddenly, an arrow flew its head and almost struck Beth in her face. The walker fell silent on top of her. She pushed him off her. "Run, Beth!" Daryl yelled to her. It only took Beth a minute to see how many walkers had surrounded them. Beth got to her feet, knife in hand and took off running but slammed into another walker.
This time, she fell on top of the woman. Beth quickly stabbed her knife into her skull, not wanting to take any chances. She felt too vulnerable. More walkers were shambling towards her. Beth stood up and took off running again, successfully this time.
She ran through the small stretch of grass separating the houses without another look back to Daryl. She felt selfish, but it was what he instructed her to do. Beth threw open the sliding glass door and shut it quickly, careful not to lock it. Walkers didn't know how to open doors and Daryl was coming in after her. Hopefully.
She tore up the stairs and into her bedroom. She closed the door and locked it. She dashed to the bed and flung herself on it, scooping the bunny up in her arms. Beth buried her face into the pillows and tried to calm her breathing down.
Her thoughts ventured to Daryl. Why hadn't they seen the walkers before they went out? And more importantly, where had they all come from? Daryl and Beth were quiet. Beth was getting worried. It had only been minutes since the attack, but it felt like hours. Beth's heart still hammered inside her chest.
It was only moments after her heart returned to normal that the banging on her door started. Her heart rate spiked again. "Beth! It's me, open up!" Beth's eyes flashed to the door. It was Daryl!
She dashed off the bed, unlocked the door, threw it open and saw Daryl standing there. He was covered in a layer of blood, guts and filth. That didn't stop Beth from flinging herself at him. She pressed her cheek into the hollow at the base of his neck, smearing her cheek crimson.
Daryl was taken by surprise but wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. "I'm glad you're okay," she murmured against his skin. "I was scared."
"I'm glad you're okay, too," he said, looking down to her blonde head of hair. Beth pulled back, looking up to him. "You had every reason to be scared. It's okay, Beth."
She nodded. "Did you… um, you know, get bit?" She asked. Daryl shook his head. Relief instantly washed over her. "We need to find that car and get out of here," she said.
Daryl couldn't help but agree with her. "We should get washed up. I don't want any of that blood around your eyes," he said. Without thought, Beth reached up and touched her cheek. She hadn't thought before pressing her face against him.
The pair made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Daryl set his eyes on the kitchen sink. Even though he doubted it worked, it was worth a try. He lifted the handle and waited a few second, but no water poured out of the spigot. He returned the handle to its original position.
His gaze then landed on the half empty water bottle. Beth saw where he was looking; she grabbed it before he could. "Daryl, we can't use that. We have to drink that," Beth said, holding the bottle behind her back. If Daryl wanted the bottle, she fully knew that he could get it, but again, it was worth a shot.
Daryl stared at Beth, silent. "I know. You're right, Beth. But we need to get that off your face. Our only other option is spit," he said, licking his thumb out of habit. Beth nodded, setting the bottle back down on the kitchen top.
Beth closed the gap between them so there was about a half a foot left. "Go ahead, clean me up," she said, closing her eyes. Daryl laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her and then started to wipe away the drying blood from her face.
It only took a few swipes from his thumb to rid her small face of the blood. "All done," he said, letting his hand drop to his side. Beth opened her eyes and stared up at Daryl. His face was still spattered with blood.
"Now it's your turn," she said. Beth pushed up onto her tiptoes as she licked her thumb and reached for Daryl's face. Unlike Beth, he gazed down at her as she wiped away the blood from his face. He stared into her cool blue eyes, though she wasn't looking into his.
She pushed his hair off his forehead and wiped around his eyes and down into the scruff of his beard, around his mouth. With one last pass, Beth was finished. "You're good," she said, returning back to her own level and wiping her finger off on her jeans. "Now for the car," she said.
Daryl huffed. "Now for the car," he said. "That's the hard part. All the batteries will be dead for the most part. I could try to hot wire one if we could find one with a good battery or semi decent spark plugs," he said, pulling his backpack on.
Beth nodded, acting as if she understood what he was saying. "No idea, but keep talking," she said, laughing under her breath. Daryl cracked a smile, but only a small one. Beth was growing on him, and quickly.
He clasped her shoulder. "I'll teach you how to hot wire a car once we're safe and out of this area, how's that sound?" Daryl asked. Beth nodded and smiled. "But for now, I'll stick to the dirty work." With that said, Beth and Daryl escaped out the back door, leaving their temporary home for good.