Love on the Run
Chapter 4
They had been walking for hours. The terrain was rough, mostly hills and lots of fallen branches and other obstacles to climb over The sun bore down on them in the heat of the late Georgia summer. She swiped her brow, smudging dust and dirt into the sweat. She could hear the whine of the mosquito near her ear and swatted at it. Daryl didn't act the least bit like he even noticed the discomfort, which made her scowl at his back. He hadn't said more than two words to her since they left the creek, other than offering a grunt of acknowledgement when she thanked him for lending a hand over particularly big obstacles. She scowled some more.
Daryl continued to keep watch for walkers or other threats. So far they had been lucky. He had his crossbow down by his side, the knife tucked into his right side and a hatchet on the left. He'd given Beth the gun but was hoping she wouldn't have call to use it.
"Daryl, I need some water and a break."
He stopped, continuing to face forward and wordlessly reached back to hand her the canteen. He had to admit, she was tougher than she looked. He'd chosen a hard path to capitalize on their lead on the men that were pursuing him. He figured they had half a day, with which this much wild terrain was as safe as they could get. Now if they could just find shelter, they'd be—the thought was cut off by the shock of the cold water poured over his head. He turned and Beth was right there, on tiptoes, tilting the canteen and with a very satisfied smile on her face.
"You looked hot."
She was close. So close he could see the flecks of color in her blue eyes. Nope. We ain't goin' down this road again. He stepped back and she stepped forward after him, lowering the canteen to offer it to him. But hell, he was thirsty. He took the canteen and turned to the side, attempting some distance that way. Beth sidestepped with him as gracefully as if they were dancing. Now he scowled.
"Somethin' wrong?"
He ignored her. Beth Greene would not be ignored.
"Hot, isn't it?" He didn't reply, just scowled at the horizon as he gulped.
"C'mon, girl. We ain't got shelter yet." He secured the canteen as he turned and strode forward.
Jackass, she thought.
A branch snapped, so loud it could have been a thunderclap. He had pushed her back an had the crossbow at his shoulder before she had even settled on what the noise had been. And she saw them, about fifty feet out. Walkers. Two men and one woman. Daryl lowered the bow. "Stay here," he growled.
She crouched behind a small bush. He charged forward, hugging any available cover, footfalls silent. The walkers continued to lurch in their general direction. Breaking through a line of brush behind the walkers, another two women and two men followed. Beth's heart thundered in her chest. He would need her help. She followed him as quietly as she could, the gun gripped tightly in her sweaty palm.
Suddenly there were more materializing from the bushes, from behind trees. Oh my God it's a herd! Her step faltered. Daryl reached the same conclusion and turned to her. They had a thirty foot lead. His steps ate up the ground between them and he jerked her to the right. "Run!" he urged, voice low. "You don't stop for nothin'. I'm gonna cover the back."
She raced in the direction he pushed her, adrenaline pumping through her system. She heard Daryl charge at the three lead walkers using his hatchet and knife. No time to retrieve arrows. She kept running, him shortly behind her for approximately two miles. A small travel trailer was in the field ahead of them beside a barn and another storage building. It looked deserted, but Daryl reached out and took her hand, pulling her behind some bushes. "Lemme check it out first. You still got the gun?"
She looked down for the first time realizing that she had been running with it in her hand. She nodded, breathless.
"A'ight. Stay down. If it turns bad you run." He raised the bow and began tactically approaching the trailer. He cleared it quickly. It was musty, but empty of people and walkers. He noted a bed, small bathroom, and sink. Spartan, but it would do for the night. Beth couldn't go on much longer.
He came out and approached the barn, bow up, ready. It was empty as well, other than a dust covered '73 Dodge Charger. He whistled softly. That baby would be nice if he could get it running. He noted a small mechanic area, with tools and other items scattered around. He'd take a closer look in the morning.
He came out and waved Beth forward. She was dirty and sweat had soaked through her tank, making it virtually transparent. Goddam, boy. Keep your eyes off her tits. That ain't gonna help get you through the night.
She threw her arms around him. They were safe. Surprised, he dropped the bow and circled her in his arms. She lifted her face and captured his mouth with hers in a hot, hard kiss. As she drew back, he reached up with his hand on the back of her head and pressed her mouth to his. Just one more kiss. Her mouth parted and her tongue stroked his lips. He obligingly parted them and their tongues mated. Her soft sigh jarred him. He abruptly released her.
She staggered a step and he reached out automatically to steady her. "Ok. We're ok. Trailer'll have to do for tonight. I'm gonna see if I can get us some meat. Didn't look like much in there in the way of food. Ain't goin' far. Stay in the trailer." He crossed over into the woods.
What the hell just happened? He kissed her and was liking it. That much she could tell. How did he manage to flip that switch? She smiled to herself. Of course, they were spending another night in close quarters. Something to look forward to. She entered the trailer.
Daryl quickly got a squirrel and a small dove. He had set a couple of snares where he saw the tracks of small game and would check them in the morning. His mouth watered at the thought of fresh rabbit for breakfast.
He stopped near a large flat rock by the trailer. He skinned and gutted the squirrel, carefully setting aside the brains. He smirked. He didn't figure Beth would care for it, but he'd seen a pan and he was going to scramble them. He plucked, gutted and trimmed the bird. That'd have to do.
He walked over to the trailer and noted a small pile of firewood and kindling, a fire already laid and the bedclothes were thrown over a small bush, airing in the sunset. He opened the door and was shocked at the transformation. Somehow, she had found a broom and a piece of cloth and had dusted off most of the surfaces. It wasn't clean, but it was a vast improvement. A small bowl of berries sat on the table, and plates, silverware and napkins were set out like a real dining room. Beth turned and smiled at him.
"Hey. I found a barrel collecting rainwater and figured it was ok for bathing. I gotta pan of it ready for boiling so we can drink it later. I left the soap out if you wanna wash up before we eat."
She had surprised him. He couldn't have been longer than an hour and a half.
He went out and started the fire and walked around the barn as he saw her coming out with the pan of water to set over the fire.
He quickly bathed and returned. He wasn't much of a cook, but he could damn sure cook game over a fire to rival even the best chef. Beth was walking back from the wood line, her shirt gathered up and a pile of dandelion greens tucked into it. "There's some vinegar and a little oil left in the trailer, so I was gonna put together a little salad."
Dang he looked good. His hair was clean, but wet. His skin was still shiny with wetness and he smelled of soap. His shirt was open, revealing a taut chest and abs. A trail of damp hair led from his belly button down into the front of his jeans. Her mouth went dry.
He watched her looking at him. Could see right through the girl. Lust. That's what he could see. His cock sprang to life, ready to oblige. He turned deliberately and walked over to the fire. She had laid out a frying pan and the small bottle of oil. The second pan of water was simmering over the fire. She had cooled the other down and had already rinsed the greens and berries. She went into the trailer to finish up.
He made short work of scrambling the brains and spit-roasting the squirrel and dove. She came out and helped him gather up the food and the other pan of water. She set the food down, put the pan on the counter and then went back out. She returned momentarily with a small, squat candle that she had lit in the flames. He scowled as she placed it on the saucer in the center of the small table.
Goddam. Looks like some fancy restaurant. He narrowed his eyes at her. Is that how she planned it?
Her face was blank. Inwardly she struggled to maintain her composure. He was not happy. Oh she had indeed set the stage. She knew what a romantic meal looked like and dangit if she was going to never try for it even if it was the zombie apocalypse. And if one thing led to another, well, by God, that was just fine with her.
She poured the wine she had found. It smelled ok to her and whoever had lived here was long gone. She didn't figure they would mind.
She sat down and looked inquiringly at him. He watched her as though she was a snake ready to strike. He sat down and warily picked up his napkin. I guess I gotta try to remember how to eat like a person. Not some animal on the run.
"Here's to us, Daryl." She held her glass out to him. He had no real choice but to clank glasses but didn't take a sip.
She took a gulp and choked. "God, this is terrible! The moonshine was way better." She shoved her glass toward him.
"Never cared much for wine." Not since he saw his mama drown herself in it. "But I did find this." He pulled out a mason jar full of moonshine. The car wasn't the only treasure in that barn.
She grabbed two more glasses and he poured. She grinned at him as she took another gulp. They devoured every morsel of food.
Before she could make a move, Daryl had scooped up the dishes. She had put the bedclothes back on the bed while he grilled, careful not to leave them long enough for the damp of dusk to set in.
She tilted the moonshine bottle over her glass, eventually holding it upside down shaking the last few drops in her glass. Her eyes were a little glassy and she had a pleasant fuzziness to her thinking. She leered at his tight backside rinsing the dishes in the sink.
"Got anymore moonshine?" She was proud that her speech didn't sound very slurred.
"Nope." Well, none for tonight. There was a still-full out in the barn, but he didn't think either of them needed more. He was hoping she had just enough to make her fall asleep quickly. The night was going to be long enough without her awake and wriggling against him.
"You gotta nice butt."
He started. Shit. Maybe too much. He ignored her.
"Nice and tight." She patted it. He jumped. The laughter bubbled out of her. She waved a hand at him. "Good gravy, Daryl. I'm sure I'm not the first woman to notice." She leered at him.
He turned back and finished the dishes. She sat trying to remember how it was she thought she was going to seduce him. Pattin' his ass shore don't work.
She yawned and let her eyes close, trying to remember.
Using the rope he had in his pack, he secured the door. Wasn't going to be anyone or anything coming through that knot. He made sure the crossbow and pistol were in reach of the bed.
He laid back the covers and turned back to her, lifting her gently into his arms and laying her in the bed. He carefully removed her shoes. She was snoring softly. He tucked the covers under her chin.
Tenderness was a foreign emotion. He didn't know what to call this, this…feeling. But he looked at her and felt like his heart was clenched in a fist. Won't do to start carin' about her. Could both be eaten by zombies tomorrow. Can't let yourself need someone. He climbed in the bed and turned his back to her. He decided to ignore the fear that it was too late for him, that he already cared. Because that wouldn't do.