Chapter 4

"Hold up. Stop," Daryl grunted, crouching down next to a small stream. He dipped his hand into the water, bringing it to his mouth to taste before drinking another handful. "Gimme that empty bottle." They'd been running through the woods for the better part of an hour, and they'd shared one bottle of water between them.

"We have more," Carol offered.

"We might need it," Daryl insisted, filling the bottle with discolored water. "We can boil it later." Carol let out a shuddering sigh, and Daryl stood. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and passed it to her. She put it back in the bag, and Daryl nodded toward it. "What else we got?"

"I grabbed Ed's bag. Just some trail mix and a couple bottles of whiskey."

"We gotta find shelter. It's gonna get dark soon, and we don't wanna get caught with our asses hangin' out. Those men in the helicopters come back, we don't wanna be here." Carol nodded then, and she rubbed her sore wrist. "You alright?"

"Yeah. It's just not every day you get shot at by men in helicopters and run into a man that looks like…that." She shuddered at the memory. "What was wrong with him, Daryl?"

"Don't know. I expect somethin' to do with that they were sayin' on the radio. Let's just keep movin'."

"What about your brother and Ed?"

"Merle was shot, but he knows how to take care of himself. Didn't have time to pick up a trail." Carol wiped at her nose as they started walking briskly through the woods again. "We'll find a place to sleep tonight. Tomorrow, maybe we can double back and see what we see."

"You think that's a good idea?" she asked. "Going back there? What if that man's still there? He looked…he looked dead, Daryl." A round of rapid gunfire silenced them, and Daryl grabbed Carol's hand, leading her to a thick, overgrown bush.

"Get down," he whispered, tugging her down into the dirt with him.

"It sounds far away," she whispered.

"Just stay down." Another explosion shook the ground, and Carol gasped. They stayed low for a few moments, until the sound of gunfire fell away into the distance. When Daryl nodded, they stood and kept going in the direction they'd been heading.

They walked in silence for several minutes, before Daryl held his hand up, silently signaling her to stop. He hauled his crossbow off of his shoulder, aiming it, listening. Carol could hear nothing but the sound of her breath and his, the sound of leaves crunching under their shoes. When he lowered his crossbow and then slung it back over his shoulder, Carol eyed him.

"What was it?"

"Think it was a deer. It took off."

"I didn't see anything."

"It was close, but I ain't chasin' after it. C'mon. Let's keep goin'." Carol nodded then, gripping her bag a little tighter before she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth and continued following him quietly through the trees.

They didn't find shelter by sundown, but in the dim light of dusk, Daryl managed to scope out a good spot for them to make camp. With nothing but red, Georgia dirt and dead leaves for a bed, they settled down against the wide base of a tall pine tree. Daryl kept his crossbow beside him and the gun he'd grabbed from Merle's truck draped across his lap, ready for whatever might come along. Carol sat next to him, shivering as the night turned cool.

"Move a little closer. It'll be warmer." His heart raced just saying those words. He was the kind of guy that slept alone, that kept to his own for the most part, but he sure as hell wasn't the kind of guy who'd let a woman shiver and suffer in the cool night air if he could help it.

"Thanks," she whispered. He could almost hear her teeth chattering. "You're sweet."

"I ain't," he snorted. She was shaking next to him, and she scooted a little closer. "Try rubbin' your hands down your arms. It'll help."

"Can't we make a fire?"

"Nah," Daryl muttered. "Then men in the helicopters might see."

"Maybe they were just coming after that man. Maybe they weren't…"

"They shot Merle. Woulda killed us. They come back, they ain't gonna let us go." Carol flinched then, and Daryl rested his head back against the tree.

"Daryl, we're gonna die, aren't we?" Her voice was quiet. Almost a whisper.

"No. We ain't. Whatever the hell is goin' on out there, we're out here, and we ain't in it. Tomorrow, we'll get up at first light and go for the truck. See if we can pick up Merle's trail. Or Ed's."

"Ed's probably really mad right now."

"Why?"

"Because I've got this," she chuckled, pulling the bag into her lap. "You want a drink? It might warm you up."

"Nah." Carol sighed then, pulling the bottle out of the bag and unscrewing the cap. "I'm willing to try anything." She took a long swing, drinking it down without even making a face, and Daryl couldn't help but be impressed. She held the bottle out to him, and he paused for a moment before grabbing it and taking a long swig for himself. He passed it back to her, and she put the cap back on, tucking it back into the black bag.

"Warm yet?" Daryl asked, getting a little laugh out of her.

"A little warmer," she offered. "But not much." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree. They sat in silence, listening to the terrifying silence. No crickets. No cicadas. The occasional coyote would howl and chill her blood, but soon, they were both drifting off to sleep.

...

"Get up! Carol!" Carol's eyes flew open, and she felt Daryl tugging on her hand, urging her to stand. "C'mon. We gotta go!"

"Daryl?"

"Get up. Get up." He pulled her to her feet, tossing her the bag and grabbing his weapons.

"What happened? I can't see anything…" She squinted into the darkness, hearing the awful, hoarse moans like they'd heard out of that poor man at the quarry. "Daryl! What's happening?" She felt his hand on hers, and then he was pulling her through the dark.

"Just stay with me."

"Was that that man?"

"Don't think so. Think there was two of 'em. Maybe three."

"Oh God," she choked out.

"Quiet. Just don't stop." They ran until their lungs burned, until Carol stumbled and fell forward, cutting the palm of her hand on the jagged edge of a large rock. She could hear his footsteps falling away from her, and she let out a choked cry, only to hear him running back to her, kneeling in the dirt to peer through the darkness as the cut on her hand.

"You ok? You bleeding?"

"Yeah," she choked out. "I'm ok." She hissed in pain when she felt cool water sloshing over the wound from one of the bottles of water he grabbed out of the pack.

"We gotta find walls," he grunted. "Think I saw a light up ahead."

"Someone's house?"

"Hunting cabin, maybe. Can't see there bein' no houses out here. Not this far into the woods."

"What about the light?"

"Probably a solar light. Or maybe someone's there. Don't know. We gotta take our chances. You ok to run?"

"Yeah," she panted, standing and wiping sweat from her brow as they started through a clearing toward a pale, white light.

Within minutes, they reached the small cabin where little solar lights lined the footpath leading up to the dark shack. Daryl kept his gun drawn and aimed, but there was no need, as the door was wide open, and the only inhabitant was a scared raccoon that took off out into the woods from under an old, tattered bed in the corner.

"This place'll be good for the night," Daryl coughed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He ushered Carol into the dark cabin, and she grabbed her cell phone from her purse, turning on the flashlight to help him look around for matches for a lantern that sat next to the sink in the corner.

Within a few minutes, a soft, orange glow filled the cabin, and Carol looked around to see a couch and another bed as well as a small table and what looked like a functional kitchen. A small bathroom was dusty from lack of use but otherwise functioning.

"Looks like nobody's been here in a while," Carol murmured, as she helped Daryl look through cabinets and drawers for food. They came up empty handed, but at least they had protection from the elements for the night.

They collapsed on separate beds adjacent from one another, and Daryl reached into Ed's pack, grabbing a couple of small packages of trail mix. He tossed one to her, and they sat there eating in stunned silence as the wind picked up, winding and pushing against the old structure with such force Carol feared it might just collapse on them.

"How's your hand?" he asked.

"Good," she promised, dabbing at it with a small towel she'd found in one of the drawers. "It's barely bleeding now. How's your arm?"

"Stopped bleedin' a while ago. Don't think I'm gonna need stitches."

"Good." She leaned her head back against the wall. "I didn't want to be here."

"What?"

"Ed wanted to come out and bag himself a buck. I wanted to go away for the weekend. I wanted to go somewhere sunny, preferably with a beach." She snorted. "As always, Ed had the final say. Now I'm here in the middle of nowhere being chased by sick people in the woods. If you can call them people." She shivered. "This is a nightmare." Daryl said nothing. He took another handful of trail mix and stretched out on his back.

"Nightmares end. Don't think that's what this is," he muttered, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. Carol leaned back on her own bed, staring up at the cobwebs before closing her eyes to the sting of fresh tears. Her lower lip trembled but she did not cry. She would not make a sound. All she could do was pray for sleep and wait for the morning light to break through the thick pine forest and chase the darkness away.