"Why you lettin' this bitch use us?"
Daryl clenched his teeth, focusing on finding kindling on the forest floor.
Merle could feel he was getting under Daryl's skin. "Oh, maybe you're dreamin' that you two will be washing your panties together? Ain't never gonna happen Little D."
"Shut up," Daryl said absentmindedly. Even though he was only half-listening to his brother, the words still hurt. Daryl knew that Nola wouldn't be here if she had any other options.
Merle turned back to face the clearing where they had decided to set up camp. Nola was patiently attempting to set up a tent she'd never used before. "Look at that girl – can't even set that thing up! She ain't gonna be no use to us and she sure as Hell ain't givin' you no sugar. Why we keepin' her around?"
Daryl didn't answer.
"Huh?" Merle said, shoving Daryl into a tree.
Daryl snapped. "Maybe I'm keepin' her around so I'm not stuck listenin' to your ignorant ass all day! Jesus!"
Merle seemed satisfied with the anger he'd inspired and strutted off down the hill and toward the lake in the quarry.
Daryl started back to the campsite with his arm full of wood. They'd brought their truck as far up as the old road allowed. The road ended in a clearing that overlooked a lake that had formed in a long-abandoned quarry. It was a beautiful location, but too visible for Daryl's liking so the group had continued on foot further up into the foothills surrounding Atlanta. Finally they'd reached a small clearing that provided an impressive view of the Atlanta skyline and the surrounding hills. A short walk away from the clearing to the wooded side of the hill gave a view of the quarry and the truck. Daryl knew that as soon as those people on the highway figured out that they weren't getting into the refugee camp all Hell would break loose. He wanted to see anyone arriving before they saw him. Daryl returned to find Nola sitting on the ground, carefully examining the instructions that had fallen out of her never-been-used tent.
There were three pictures; one where the poles clicked into place, one where you threaded the poles into some loops, and then another where the tent just seemed to pop up. She stared up at the dusk filled sky and wondered what it was like in the refugee camp. Was it safer than here? She hadn't seen a soul since they'd left the main road – living or dead. She wondered how long she would have to stay for. Did I pack toothpaste? She continued idly. Her teeth already felt fuzzy.
She jumped a little when she saw a flicker in her periphery. It was just Daryl returned with the firewood. Damn, he's quiet, she thought, Probably learned from the hunting. Daryl had thrown himself on the ground and was carving out a hole in the ground using one of the branches he had brought back. He didn't seem to notice her staring. Watching him, she had a thought. Nola got to her feet and began to dig through her camping supplies, and she triumphantly held up a small spade.
"Maybe this will help?" Nola asked proudly. For the first time she didn't feel like she was a burden.
"Maybe if we were plantin' flowers," Daryl said. Moments later, the branch he'd been using to carve out the ground cracked, splitting itself perfectly down the middle.
Hardly stopping, Daryl grabbed another branch from his pile and kept digging. Soon enough, he had made a sizeable hole – large enough to keeping anyone or anything from seeing the flames. Daryl mindlessly tossed a match into the kindling he'd arranged. The fire sprang up around the wood, dancing lazily just above the hole he'd dug.
It was dark now, and Nola had nearly finished with her tent. She'd finally figured out how all the hooks worked and where the pegs went. Without so much as a cursory glance to Nola, Daryl took out his tent and set it up within minutes. It was barely big enough for two. Its dark green fabric stood in stark contrast to the bright yellow and blue of Nola's 5-person tent. Daryl rolled his eyes at the gaudiness of the tent. He resolved to find some kind of a tarp tomorrow to cover it from prying eyes.
Neither of them had spoken a word since Nola had offered Daryl the spade. He made her feel silly and incapable. Sure, it was true that she wasn't good at this, but she was good at other things, she reasoned.
They sat together around the fire.
In the distance Daryl heard the drone of what sounded like a fighter jet. Sure enough, moments later a dark shape passed over them with a deafening sound. The first plane was followed by another, then another . . . Daryl counted 13 in total. They were flying toward Atlanta.
Nola rose to her feet. Daryl was standing silently, arms folded, his eyes toward the Atlanta skyline.
"What do you think is going on?" Nola questioned, forming the words slowly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
As if in answer to her question, there was a flash of light and a loud explosion. Curls of flame began erupting on the side of a building in the far away distance and thick black smoke billowed into the sky.
"What are they doing!" Nola cried, completely panicked.
Daryl frowned, "Looks like they're napalming the city," his voice flat.
Daryl and Nola stood together, watching the city smoke and flame in silence. Merle had turned up somewhere close to the beginning of the bombing. A few fish hung from a stick he'd skewered them on for cooking. This chaos was overwhelming even for Merle. He'd stood in silence with Daryl and Nola, fish in hand. None of them knew exactly how long it had lasted but when silence had returned their fire had nearly died.
Silently Merle added wood to the fire and then set up a rudimentary fish rotisserie system with the help of two additional sticks.
"Good thing we never made it into Atlanta," Merle said with less enthusiasm than normal.
"Mhmm," Daryl and Nola sounded simultaneously.
"What now?" Daryl wondered aloud. He didn't expect Nola to have any input and Merle probably wasn't going to have anything useful to say.
"We don't really know what's going on right now – maybe they are getting the situation under control," Nola said hopefully.
"Or those things have taken over the city and they're killing everyone they think might be infected and the refugee camp is done," Daryl said darkly.
"So what we gonna do?" Merle asked aggressively. He wasn't used to having to make important decisions. "We stay here, what's to say they ain't gonna napalm these hills next?"
"They ain't gonna napalm the hills, ain't nobody here!" Daryl sneered. "What we gotta worry about is people comin' up here wantin' what we got. Highway is close, and people are gonna be turning around now lookin' for some place to go. Some of them are gonna end up here."
A wicked smile curled on Merle's lips, "Well, now, that might work out to our advantage now wouldn't it?"
Daryl cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Merle to elaborate, not liking where this was going.
"Well, see, maybe some nice folks come up here, and they uh, well, we get them to share their things with us," Merle chortled, "Whether they want to or not."
"Yeah? You wanna steal some old tents and rotten sandwhiches from some kids and soccer moms?" Daryl retorted. To be fair, he'd done his fair share of bad shit, but he wasn't keen to advertise this to Nola.
"Oh come on, Darylina! You're only complainin' because you got your lil' honey here," Merle antagonized.
Nola stayed silent. This was a side of Daryl she'd never considered before. She knew his brother was bad, but what she'd seen at Al's gas station and the way he was talking now made her wonder how similar Daryl was.
She left the boys to their bickering. Nola walked to the wooded side of the hill overlooking the quarry. The nearly full moon was shinning brightly above. The billowing smoke from the city wasn't visible from this side. After a few minutes she heard footsteps.
Daryl's argument with Merle had ended when Merle produced a flask of whiskey from his vest pocket, laughed and said, "Ain't gotta make any decisions now. You'll change your tune once 'ol Merle gets into it."
Daryl grunted in dissension, rising to find Nola.
"You two lovebirds have fun!" Merle called after Daryl's retreating back.
"Go to Hell!" Daryl muttered.
Within moments he saw Nola leaning on a tree bathed in moonlight and paused. Her long hair that he'd normally seen tied back in the diner was still loose from their hurried exit this morning. It was tangled and a twig was stuck in it. He began to approach her, remembering how his silent approach had made her jump the last time. He deliberately stepped on a branch he knew would give a resounding crack.
She looked back to see who was approaching, then returned to staring at the moon and quarry below.
Silently, Daryl reached up and plucked the twig from Nola's hair. Even tangled, it felt soft ad inviting against his fingertips. Feeling the slight tug on her hair, Nola turned to see Daryl, twig in hand.
"Thanks," she blushed.
Daryl gave her a terse nod of acknowledgement.
The moonlight fell on Daryl's bare arms folded across his chest. Nola's eyes danced over the curves of his biceps and forearms. It had been a while since she'd been with anyone romantically. Truthfully, she was a little peeved that Daryl had never asked her out.
"Merle's just . . ." Daryl started.
"Yeah, no, I know. That ain't you," Nola said, hoping she believed what she was saying herself.
Daryl turned back toward the campsite. "You comin'?"
"Yeah," Nola said. Just as she was about to turn and follow Daryl, she saw a flicker of light in the distance.
"Wait!" Nola hissed in a low voice, pointing. Daryl turned his eyes in the direction Nola was pointing. Sure enough, he saw headlights winding up the quarry road.
They weren't alone.
Hi Lovies! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm still undecided about how closely I'll follow the show and how much detail I'll go into. I really want to stay true to the characters, but I also don't want to bore you guys re-reading stuff you already know! Thank you to all the new followers and to the comments. I smile every time I get an alert about a new follower, and I glow with every comment! XOXO