Chapter 3
Swayin to the rhythm of the new world order and
Count the bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums
The boogeymen are coming
The boogeymen are coming
Keep your head down, go to sleep, to the rhythm of a war drums
- Pet, Tool
Walking away from the woman wasn't easy. Siobhan never minded a scrap. But it was not the time or place. Especially since she was sure Andrea was putting off alpha bitch vibes. That sort of tangle would be bad. Knowing Andrea had something to prove? It made taking her on more personal. A pride thing. Siobhan did not need to hear Sister Sarah say so. She knew so. Instead of letting it boil over, Siobhan chose to ask for a tour of the place instead. She wanted to know where they were staying, every detail available. That would distract her and be useful at the same time. Since Glenn was off talking to Sue and Hershel, Rick's wife Lori offered to show Siobhan around. The two women walked together, making idle chit-chat about the big house and property.
"We have patrols going out, walking the grounds. We don't all sleep at the same time."
Lori was curious about the young woman but trying to recall her manners. She had never met a nun before in her life. She was wondering why Siobhan didn't even wear a cross. Wasn't that part of the uniform? Getting caught staring, the older woman cleared her throat and looked ahead.
"Was it hard, getting out of New York?"
Siobhan nodded, rubbing her thumb over her lower lip.
"It wasn't easy- but we got the hang of it. Just a matter of learning all new rules, in a way."
"Aren't you hot in all that? I have some short sleeved shirts-"
"Ah…no. I mean, it's a…modesty issue. Not showing too much skin." The cocoa-skinned girl smiled tightly. "Don't worry about me. I'm comfortable."
"Okay, but if you change your mind…?"
"Thanks. I appreciate it. Is there any place to take a bath around here?"
"There's a man-made pond in the woods. A bathtub in the house, if you want to boil the water and haul it up. I do it for the kids twice a week. The rest of the time, I catch Carl when I can and wash his face and hands."
"If we can use the tub for the smaller kids, I'd appreciate it. I'd drag up the water myself. We won't make a mess."
Lori nodded, resting a hand briefly to the woman's arm. "I'm sure you won't, but if the kids do make a mess? That's what kids do. Don't you worry none."
"Thanks." Siobhan smiled more easily. "We do appreciate it. Everything. I know it's not easy trusting strangers."
"No , but sometimes you just get a good feel from someone." Lori sighed softly. "And it does my heart good seein Carl and Sophia excited. Not much to make them happy any more. When they get to play and run around, it's a good thing."
The sun was going down, making the clouds bleed with colors that were almost too beautiful to look at. No matter who you were, Daryl mused, you still all got the same sunset. He squinted upwards, watching that amazing electric red-orange that was just there for a moment before it became this deep bruise violet color. He heard little footsteps behind him and ignore the kid, hoping he wouldn't have to watch another one. Carl and Sophia could drive you up the wall with how they took it for granted someone'd always be there to pull their fat off the fire. Some days, Daryl wanted to bawl out Lori and Carol for losing track of the kids, but he yelled at the children instead. Trying to drum up some common sense in them.
Since the kid sat down next to him, Daryl paused in rolling his cigarette to look over at the little guy. He didn't remember this one's name, but knew he had a younger sister with the same auburn hair. More than the wild hair though, the scar on the kid's arm caught Daryl's eye. It wasn't like something you'd get playing ball or roughhousing. He noticed the kid was playing with a G.I. Joe, a tiny plastic gun in each of the figure's hands. Deciding to make conversation since he didn't want to smoke in the kid's face, he asked, "The fuck happened to you?"
The boy, Thomas, glanced down to his arm. Against the pale freckled skin, the rectangular scar was like a silent scream of red. He tugged his sleeve back down over the glaring mark. Gnawing at his lower lip, the seven year old whispered, "The bad lady did it."
Should mind his own business, Daryl told himself, but there was an ache in the kid's words that made his hands itch to do some damage. Like it could make up for what had happened. Take back the pain long gone. The rough man picked up his knife, sharpening it on a whet stone.
"Did you do her in?"
Startled by the question, but emboldened, Thomas whispered. "Not me. Sister Siobhan did. The bad lady, she had me and Nettie. In a closet." He wiped the back of his hand across his nose to stop the itch there. He never talked about the woman from his nightmares, but he looked Daryl's way and it was a little like telling another boy. A stranger that wouldn't think he was a baby for being scared of someone really dead. All the way dead.
"In a closet? What the hell for?" Daryl was all but whispering himself. This was a tangle he couldn't work out in his own head, but he wanted to know. Somebody'd taken the time to cut the kid. Not even just a threatening cut. It was worse than that. Deep as a brand.
The child bowed his head, looking down at his toy, answering, "She said she'd be our new mom. So we went home with her, but she already had a kid. He was …sick." Thomas grimaced, a shudder going through his frame. "We were sposed to make him feel better. His mama wanted him to be all better. Siobhan heard Nettie screamin'. She came in the door and killed the little dead boy." Thomas met Daryl's eyes, his own glinting. "Then she killed the mom. For making us be food."
Daryl's lip curled back and he had to shove down the disgusted anger he felt. What the fuck was wrong with people? What, the world went to shit and everyone let their freak flags fly? Being all the crazy they could be? He mastered his expression and reached over, hand resting over Thomas' covered forearm.
"Don't have to hide that mark. It means you're a lil bad ass. You lived through some heavy shit. Have the scar to prove it. You had to hurt to get that- it's yours now. Forever. You ever see a rattle snake? Naw? Every year they live, they get another ring on their tail. One more piece of proof that no one's put em down yet. Scars are like that. For us. It doesn't mean you were hurt- it means you fuckin lived."
Thomas pulled his sleeve back up, looking at his scar like he was just now seeing it. Tracing the five inch long scar, he smiled a little.
"Nettie too?"
"Yeah, her too."
"Thomas."
The door creaked open, Siobhan leaning there as she looked over the little boy and the man beside him.
"It's your turn in the bath, little man. Water's not too hot. Let's hustle."
Thomas got to his feet and paused to look at Daryl before he patted the bullet scar on the man's temple, whispering, "You lived too." Then he bolted inside, man business seen too.
Watching Thomas dash up the stairs, Siobhan turned her eyes back to Daryl, surprised to see how he was looking right back at her. He had been so introverted during dinner that she had suspected he was counting the seconds until she and her people were long gone. Now, he was just looking. Not with malice or disdain. She wasn't sure what to do with it. She started to just leave him in peace when he spoke.
"You can't keep up your winnin streak."
It was like ice water hitting her full in the face. She narrowed her eyes on him.
"Yeah? Is that supposed to mean something? Like you know."
"I know plenty. Skin of your teeth only goes so far. You got the older boys, they'd be decent if you weren't all carryin dead weight. Old lady. Kids."
Her hand closed tight around the handle of the screen door.
"The zombies are dead-weight. Not the living."
"Jesus tell you that?" Daryl questioned, voice a rasp. "Sister Sarah said y'all are married to Jesus. Brides of Christ. That's got to be some harsh pillow talk goin down right now. You ask your husband what this shit's all about?"
She was sure she should walk away. Let him sit out on the porch, smoke and be a prick all by himself. She never was good at putting her back to someone pissing her off. Worse than that, she was noticing that, attitude and all, he was easy on the eyes. Muscle and promise. His general gruffness would have amused her in another life. Siobhan focused on the fact that he was poking her like he wanted a fight. She smiled coolly.
"This how you work off your tension? Want to fight it out?"
"Naw, when I need to get rid of my tension, I only make you fight as much as you want to. The rest of the time, I do my best to make sure we're both havin a good time. Only fair."
He had the pleasure of seeing a blush form on her neck and cheeks. So she wasn't frozen all the way through. There was a woman in there too. She was a woman, he was a man- and she wasn't dead to that fact. Smoking his cigarette, he kept her stare, getting to his feet. He wanted to be eye to eye for her. In case she decided to try and kick his teeth in. The thought that she might swing on him just made him a little heavier and thicker in his jeans. He did like a hunt, whether he killed his quarry or not.
"What say, sister, you want to relax too? It can work wonders."
Since he was only baiting her and being an ass about it, Siobhan rallied her defenses.
"I'm not interested. "
"Liar."
The single word rolled from his lips and seemed to slink over her skin, making her think she did need to be more covered up. Like wearing a coat on top of the long sleeved shirt she wore. Her body was just being stupid, trying to drag her along. No. She was not going to let some random guy shake her. This was all just a game to him. A challenge.
"I could pray for you."
Daryl laughed at the words, swearing she almost did too. Her offer to pray for him was just that crazy. He didn't need anyone talking to God on his behalf. They'd already had words, him and the Almighty. Enough had been said that there was no way God was doubting how Daryl Dixon felt about Him.
Sister Sarah appeared in the doorway just behind Siobhan, looking like a penguin on a mission to Daryl. He nodded to her, as if he hadn't been sexually propositioning Siobhan. The elderly woman bestowed a serene smile on the man, resting a hand to Siobhan's arm.
"Mr. Dixon, I am sure Sister Siobhan did not take holy vows and pledge herself to God just to squander her life's work on a tussle in the woods. You understand we all have sacrifices to make, and promises to keep. I am sure with your own many obligations you see the need for we two to remain steadfast to our own path."
Noticing how hotly Siobhan was blushing now, Daryl felt like a boy with his hand hovering just over the cookie jar. Not dipping in. Not yet, anyway. It seemed the cookie jar wasn't too tightly lidded either. It was a maybe. There was… potential.
He smiled to Sister Sarah and got to his feet.
"Was just talkin. I'll let you get back to bein…holy."
He walked off the porch, the cherry tip of a new cigarette sparking to life in the dark as he strolled away.
Siobhan gave Sister Sarah a look before she muttered, "I want a bath."
Sister Sarah chuckled. "Cleanliness is next to godliness." She could not keep herself from smiling at Siobhan's uneasy grimace. The young woman was adept at many things, but other times, very much still learning. Sister Sarah rested a hand to Siobhan's arm. " I will keep watch at the door while you take your bath. Take your time. The children are finished. "
Thinking about using the water Thomas had just used, Siobhan made a face. It was not the worst setting, but she wanted to feel really clean after wards. She needed a good, long bath. A soak. Thinking of the pond, she said, "There's a pond in the woods."
"You think that's wise?"
Reading extra concerns into the question, Siobhan growled under her breath before turning and heading upstairs to use the water in the tub. Hiding out from anyone was not her natural way. Being discreet and not making waves just made her feel like a cat being petted backwards. Still, if it kept the tenuous peace and made Sister Sarah happy, Siobhan could make small concessions. She heard Sister Sarah sit down outside the bathroom door, a presence to guarantee her charge's privacy. Likely to ensure Siobhan wouldn't just go find the pond after all. The thought made Siobhan smile. Sister Sarah knew her a little too well. Knew how deep a rebellious streak could run.
Siobhan stripped down, eyes never going to the mirror. She seldom looked in mirrors. She was aware of how she looked, and any more, it wasn't getting much better. A shaky diet and bad sleeping habits along with her scars? Not exactly pretty to her own eyes. Turning to the tub, she was glad to see the water wasn't as murky as she'd expected. It was chilly, but not dirty. She bathed in a hurried, proficient manner, not lingering as she scrubbed at her hair and skin.
Saying she wasn't thinking about Daryl's evil laugh would be a lie. She should stay away from him. Definitely not talk to him again. Who did he think he was any way? All that stuff he had been saying like he had to piss her off or he couldn't call it a day. She tried to shake it off, but even after her bath and re-dressing, she was restless. Drying off, she was still frowning as she told him off in her head. All of her best comebacks came to her long after the fact. In the heat of the moment, she was more comfortable punching someone in the mouth to show her feelings. Hence the scars crisscrossing her knuckles from teeth that begged to be slugged. She re-dressed in another long sleeve shirt, something borrowed. It was a dark green plaid that she liked the look of. Jeans that fit once she used her belt. Feeling better, she opened the bathroom door to look at Sister Sarah.
Whispering close to the older nun's ear, Siobhan said. "I wasn't comfortable before…I'm still not."
"It's for the greater good, Siobhan. Trust me. It is for the best. It keeps us safe. The children need us."
Sarah hugged Siobhan, feeling the girl hug her back. There was a time Siobhan would have been wooden in her arms, tolerating the embrace but not knowing how to reciprocate it. Or if she should. Siobhan had come a very long way.
"I don't like-"
"I know, child, but it is only for a little while longer. Once we find a safe place, things can be different."
Biting at her full lower lip, Siobhan nodded stiffly. "I need to go for a run."
"Siobhan-"
"I need to, Sister. I have to work off some energy. It's not going to go anywhere otherwise and I won't get any sleep. It's dark out. Let me be me… for just a while. I won't go too far or take too long. Keep Diablo with you. He can't keep up with me."
There was no further argument from Sister Sarah as she watched Siobhan pull on her boots and take her knife and handgun up like they were part of herself. The old woman had to wonder, not for the first time, if her prayers were being heard or she was simply too tired to give up praying now.
