DISCLAIMER: I do not own AMC's and Robert Kirkman's "The Walking Dead" or any of its characters/places. There may be a few OCs at a later time and those will be mine.
WARNINGS: Rated T for language, violence, and gore. Comic spoilers later on but you'll be warned about those specifically before they happen.
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/follows so far! Hope you like the next chapter!
Daryl's heart pounded against his ribs. It took a lot these days to get him worried.
The Governor's henchmen sent a constant barrage of fire over his and Maggie's heads. He could feel the air around him being split by the bullets. Something wasn't adding up right though. Daryl was certain that there were only two shooters by the trees, unless another was being a total pussy and refused to leave cover to take a shot. Martinez and Shumpert, Sumbert, Sherbert—Daryl didn't care what their names were; just that it was only them. Where was their leader? Wouldn't it be something if they manned up and killed him? Naw, they didn't have the balls for it. Even Carol was braver than that. She had told Andrea to stab the Governor in his sleep.
A moment later, Daryl noticed a lull in the gunfire as the men were forced to reload. Daryl was going to take the opportunity to rain hell down upon them but out of his peripheral vision he caught sight of another walker coming in on his right. It was still a good thirty yards away and he dismissed it from being an imminent threat. Daryl aimed towards the men but the walker moved unpredictably, perhaps raising something in his arms.
"Biters don't…" thought Daryl and his eyes darted to the walker that was not a walker at all. The Governor's revenge filled eye landed on Daryl, his lips curled up in a twisted smile. Daryl saw the muzzle flash as the Governor fired his gun and then a scream filled his ears. He heard the clatter of Maggie's gun falling to the ground next to him and then her anguished cries as she collapsed to her knees.
Daryl didn't think: He reacted.
The Governor was forced to press himself inside of a coffee shop to avoid Daryl's bullets. Daryl was able to pick him out through one of the front windows and peppered it with lead. The window shattered even more with shots coming from the inside of the shop so he hadn't hit the man, or, not bad enough. Daryl chanced a look down at Maggie: She was clutching her right bicep as blood leaked through her fingers. The fabric of her brown sleeve turned dark. "Yer hit, get in the truck," he commanded. Maggie struggled to her feet, her bloody hand sliding on the door handle. She got the passenger door open when there was the blaring honk that she and Daryl had been waiting for: Rick and the others had made it safely to their car. "Keep down!" shouted Daryl. He fired a few more shots after the Governor and another burst down the street at the other two assailants then dashed around the front of the truck to take the driver's seat. He threw himself inside, ignoring a searing pain in the back of his leg as he sat down.
He turned the key, hoping the engine hadn't taken any serious hits, and the truck started right up. Daryl hit the gas and the truck lurched sluggishly from the added weight of the trailer. Precious seconds slipped by but the truck began to pick up speed. Rick was waiting in the Hyundai outside of the gates and gunned it when he saw Daryl clear them.
"Where ya hit Maggie?" asked Daryl. He checked the mirrors looking for any followers. "Maggie?"
"Just…just my arm…" she trembled. "I don't think it's too bad." Daryl took his eyes off the road to give her a quick once over. "Hurts," she admitted. "I wish they wouldn't drive so fast."
Ahead of them, Rick must have forgotten the fact that Daryl couldn't drive as fast with the trailer and loss of maneuverability.
They put a couple of miles between them and the town without as much as a word passed. Daryl obsessively checked the mirrors for the Governor's truck. They weren't going to be allowed to drive off with the last of his possessions—Daryl just knew it.
"Think ya can still shoot if ya have to? It's takin' both hands to control this thing," said Daryl. "Governor'll be on our tails soon."
"Yes, yes I think so," she said forcing a small sob down. Maggie reloaded her gun with a fresh clip then did the same with Daryl's.
"Look Maggie," said Daryl quickly, "they're going to be aiming at me since I'm driving. If I get hit and can't keep going, ya gotta get out and make a run for it. Ya can't waste time tryin'…" he paused to gather his words, "…tryin' to do anything to help me. Got that?"
Daryl kept his head straight but his blue eyes slipped to the side to meet with Maggie's.
"Ya gotta stay off the road and get back to the prison," he instructed. Maggie bit her lip and nodded miserably. "Shit…" swore Daryl.
They'd lost Rick. Daryl knew the route to the prison but damn he had liked it if they could've stayed together. Adrenaline pushed through his veins as different scenarios played out in his head. The Governor was coming after them; that was unavoidable. Daryl realized he already had a huge target painted on him in his brother's blood after Merle's ambush. If the Governor caught up to him, he was dead. He had to keep Maggie safe. He almost wished it was anyone with him other than her too. Daryl always viewed Maggie as one of the biggest pieces to the prison and if something happened to her, the rest would crumble. Beth would become unhinged once again and be utterly useless. Hershel could actually die of a broken heart and he was their medic. Glenn would go nothing short of bonkers and somehow reason the whole thing was Rick's fault, kill him then go after the Governor.
So he had to keep Maggie safe. Make sure she survived. Daryl played with the idea of taking a side road and dropping her off then leading the Governor away. But she'd been shot and that changed the game.
"Had to get yerself shot," he grumbled.
"I think he was aiming at you," she teased back. "Kinda hard for him to be accurate with one eye."
Maggie swore Daryl's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles before he checked the review mirror. She didn't need to know what he saw but the fact that the engine revved spoke volumes.
"Rick! Rick!"
Was someone talking to him?
"We've lost them; we've got to slow down!" cried Glenn. "We've got to go back!"
Rick sat stone-like behind the wheel oblivious to the constant shouts from Glenn.
"Rick, that's Maggie and Daryl behind us!"
"Rick?" that voice was from a female…
"You've got to stop!" the kid again…
Someone started to shake Rick's seat, or maybe they weren't. He couldn't be certain of anything. His eyes were focused on the road and burned from not blinking but he ignored that too.
"We have…we have…to…" the kid's voice was becoming more distant…
A sharp crack echoed around the car and Rick's head snapped to the side. His eyes were thrown shut, breaking his concentration from the road. He tentatively reached a shaking hand up to feel the side of his throbbing face.
Glenn's mouth opened but no words came out. "Where the hell did you go?" spat Michonne, readying her hand for another slap if her first one didn't get the message across.
"I…I…I don't know…" confessed Rick.
"Slow down," ordered Michonne. "We've got to give them a chance to catch up."
Rick's right foot found the brake and applied a generous amount of pressure. The car began to slow and he pulled onto the shoulder.
"I, I think I see them!" called Glenn. He had turned around just in time to see the silver truck come over the crest of a hill a quarter mile behind them.
Michonne rolled her window down and stuck her head out. "No Governor," she announced and pulled back in.
Rick started to drive again, though noticeably slower. Glenn watched out the back as Daryl eased the truck right up to the bumper of the car. Maggie raised her hand…a bloody hand. "They've been shot!" he howled.
"What?" asked both Michonne and Rick.
"Maggie's got blood on her hand!"
"If Daryl's able to drive and Maggie is upright then they're fine," said Michonne calmly. "Get your gun ready in case we get attacked again."
The car ride was not an easy one. The tension was so thick Michonne wouldn't even be able to cut it with her sword. Glenn and Maggie were zoned in on each other the entire time. Eventually he was able to work out that she'd been shot in her arm but it wasn't too bad. He saw that Daryl would keep glancing back but made no indication that there was danger following them. Finally, he felt the Hyundai slow.
"We're back," he sighed and turned to see them nearing their beautiful prison, their fortress.
Up ahead, Carol was manning the gate with Sasha and Tyreese. She shouldered her gun and began to push open the gate with Tyreese to let Rick and Daryl in. Rick kept driving up to the cell blocks but Daryl held back as Carol secured the gates. He motioned out the window for them to climb onto the trailer and then continued on.
Rick, Michonne, and Glenn unloaded from their car like it was on fire. Others from the prison, Beth, Hershel, Carl, and Karen came stumbling out. Daryl had to slam on the brakes to keep from running over Glenn as he rushed to greet Maggie. The kid pressed his own hand over Maggie's wound and escorted her to Hershel.
"I don't even know where to begin asking what happened," came Carol's concerned voice. She did a lap around the truck noticing all the bullet holes. Daryl waited for her to be on the opposite side before he slid out. He lowered his right foot to the ground then cautiously tested his left. As soon as his left leg was forced to bear weight, that searing pain started up again on the back of his thigh. He could feel the way his pants clung to his skin and when he pressed his fingers against the spot, they came away with blood. Daryl did a stutter-step to the front of the truck and leaned against it to hide his injury. He didn't need anyone fussing over him when Maggie was hurt too.
"Rick, what in the hell is going on?" asked Hershel. "You charge off, not a word about where you were headed, and my daughter comes back shot…though not badly," he said after examining Maggie's arm.
"My fault," said Daryl, owning up to the incident. "Went off to Woodbury to get a few things. They came after me and we ran into some trouble with the Governor." There was a sharp gasp from the group.
Carl's eyes lit up. "Did you get him?" He stepped forward and looked eagerly between his dad and Daryl.
"Might've," said Daryl vaguely.
"Did you kill him?" the boy questioned the adults. "Did you finish him?"
"Shot at him a bunch; might've hit him…Followed me and Maggie in the truck but he blew out a tire."
"So he's still out there," said Carl sharply. "We're never going to be safe until he is dead! Why can't any of you understand that?"
"This ain't happening," thought Daryl and rubbed his forehead. He couldn't help but sag into the truck as the rush from the day wore off. "Damn kid is right."
"Carl…we tried to Carl," Rick knelt to his son's level but the boy backed up. "We weren't prepared for a fight…"
"Well get prepared for one! Let's put the traps and barricades back out! Double up on guard duty: Have someone watching both the front and back of the prison."
Rick studied his son and nodded with everything he was saying.
"That's a good idea Carl."
The boy rounded on the group. "So why are we just standing around and talking about it?"
"EVERYONE GET DOWN!" cried Beth.
The group dropped to their hands and knees; even Hershel made an effort to crouch behind the cars at Beth's warning.
Rick peeked out from around the Hyundai and down towards the gate. He could just make out a large white truck waiting on the other side. "Governor," he whispered to the others. Keeping low, Daryl opened the truck door and yanked out a pair of binoculars. He passed them off to Rick. The sheriff raised them and had to take a few infuriating seconds to get them in focus (damn Daryl even had better vision than him). Rick lowered the binoculars and rubbed his eyes and looked again.
The Governor was…sitting in his truck. Just sitting there. Watching the prison….watching Rick and his group. Rick was sure his one eye was on him. His face was the hardest he'd seen on any man. Cold and calculating. Calculating his chances on being able to take the prison.
Tyreese cautiously approached Rick and patted his shoulder. Rick handed him the binoculars. After a moment Tyreese lowered them and frowned. "Not a chance he can take this place with just the three of them," he worked out. "He's crazy but he's not stupid."
"Well are you going to invite him in or are you going to shoot him?" demanded Carol. "Carl's right and this is our chance."
Rick raised the binoculars for a third time. He panned to the other men with the Governor: Both were in the bed of the truck with their guns trained on the group. "No one move, not one inch," he breathed.
"NO!" yelled Carl. "Kill him...kill him or I will!" Carl made a move to grab for Sasha's gun. A bullet whizzed by and hit the ground between the two. Carl covered his head and froze.
"Don't….move…" Rick panted. "The second he thinks any of us are acting hostile, he'll shoot."
"We just need one shot," said Karen.
"Won't do any good," sighed Rick. "Even if we hit the Governor, it'll mean losing two of you. I'm not going to take that risk. Just wait."
As if on cue, the Governor broke his gaze from the prison and appeared to say something to his men. A moment later, they were opening the doors to the truck and climbed inside. The Governor smiled, the man smiled, at Rick and drove away.
"He's gone," said the sheriff.
"What was he doing?" asked Glenn.
"Trying to figure out if it's worth it to him…the prison…Michonne….and it's not."
"So we need to go after him!" roared Carl. He looked between Rick, Tyreese, and Daryl—the men he thought were supposed to be looking out for the group. "You're just letting him leave?" No response. No one even flinched. "This is bullshit! He tortured Maggie and Glenn and he gets to walk away—again?" Carl glanced between the three men trying to pick out the weaker one, the one he could unnerve. "He killed your brother Daryl, he made him suffer and then killed him. You said nobody but Merle could kill Merle and he took that away. Did you like having to put your own brother down? How did that feel? You never cared about Merle or you'd want the Governor dead!"
Daryl felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach with an ice pick while someone poured boiling liquid over his skin. For a moment he couldn't hear anything over the roaring in his ears and his vision shifted out of focus. A man, presumably Rick, was yelling something but it was muffled and faraway. Maybe it was Carl yelling. Or both. Hell, he didn't have a clue.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he instinctively threw it off. His limit reached, Daryl retreated to his crossbow. His boots beat quickly against the pavement as he stormed into the cell block.
He heard a man call his name and a woman say something about blood or bleeding but it missed him.