Chapter 3
The town of Luthersville, Georgia wasn't really much of a town at all even before the dead began to rise, boasting little besides a worn-down post office and a few chain restaurants. They grocery store on the south side of town was the same one where they'd lost Zach, and Daryl glanced at Beth as they drove past it. He hadn't had much time to get to know Zach, but he'd seemed like an ok kid. He remembered him making pointed comments about wishing there was more privacy in the prison, and about the things he and Beth would be able to do if they could find a way to be alone for more than an hour.
Daryl found himself wondering if the kid had been bluffing or if things had really developed between the two teens that quickly. Beth didn't seem the sort by his estimation, but then Maggie was no saint and Beth hadn't had many romantic prospects during their time together anyway.
"What are you thinking?" She asked, shaking him from his thoughts.
"What! Nothin, ain't thinking bout anything in particular," he answered, sounding harsher than he'd meant to in his surprise.
"No," she said smiling a little "I mean about where to stop in town. Or how to go about looking for people. What did you have in mind?"
"Oh, right," he said, shaking himself again, "well your guess is as good as mine. Where you think your sister'd go? Good a chance as any she's callin' the shots for the group right now."
Beth considered that for a moment. Maggie would probably prioritize finding a place which could be easily secured with as few people as possible, given the fact that most of the people on the bus hadn't fully recovered from the illness. Security would win out over food, at least for the moment- so searching all the restaurants wouldn't work. Plus they could be overwhelmed with walkers going from place to place like that. Even then, without a strategy they might go around looking for each other endlessly. If she knew anything about her sister- it was that she would be looking for her. Maybe the best way to go about this was to make herself easy to find.
"Can we get up there?" Beth said, pointing at an eight story high-rise hotel by the highway, "It would give us the best view of anyone coming in or out of town- and if we could put a sign up that's the best chance they'd see it."
Daryl looked at the hotel skeptically. Were he with Rick, or Michonne, or even Carl he'd feel fairly confident about clearing the place… but with Beth? Sure she was capable of putting down walkers but clearing a hotel could involve downing only a handful or a few dozen. Besides the dozen or so arrows he had for his crossbow, they had about 15 rounds between them left for the two pistols and the rifle was shot. Beth had gathered up golf clubs from the houses they'd stopped in the night before, and he had one sturdy carving knife he liked to keep on him at all times. It was better than nothing, but they were far from armed to the teeth.
Still, it was by far the smartest way to go about it, and if they could clear the hotel they'd be in a much safer place then they were right now.
"Guess we'll find out."
Ten minutes later they were walking around the hotel surveying the scene. Most of the windows were still intact, but at some point walkers must have flooded through the glass paneling around the front entrance, because only shards of glass and the frame of the revolving door remained. What was harder to tell was whether they'd flooded in or out, and how recently. There were only two in the lobby when they came looking, but Daryl knew that didn't tell them much.
"Wish there was some way to know how many sum'bitches there were in there 'fore we go 'n bite ourselves off more'n we can chew." He mumbled, peering down one of the halls off the lobby.
"What if we played music?" Beth suggested shyly
"What?"
"Like, took one of the CDs in the car and cranked it not loud enough to attract walkers from far away but enough to draw these ones out?"
"Could work," Daryl said, thinking it over, "But I want you close to the car and ready to gun it out of here if we get over run understand?"
"Got it," Beth agreed, wondering why Daryl felt the need to give her extra protection. Maybe he still thought of her as a child and was doing the noble thing. The thought made her unhappy.
"Alright then, pick a tape 'n let's get this done." He said gruffly, cocking his crossbow up on his shoulder.
Beth rummaged through the center console until she found a song that she felt had too much zombie irony to pass up. Daryl may think she was a child, but at least she'd be a child with a sense of humor. Plus, she reflected as she pushed the CD into the entertainment center, he probably knew classic rock well enough to be embarrassed by the innuendo.
She walked back towards the hotel with a smile on her face for the first time since her father's death as Jim Morrisson's deep voice floated out from the cars speakers.
COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!
Now touch me babe…
Can't you see, that I am not afraid…
