Rejoice, for I have successfully completed yet another chapter! And as another migraine ensues, I must bid you all farewell and goodnight. I have big plans for the next chapter, though, so it might take a little longer to write than usual. Fear not, it's going to be good. At least, I think so. :) Read, comment, love.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Walking Dead, nor have I ever done so or claimed to have done so.
Necessary Knowledge to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter Six: Cat Food is Still Food
"DARYL!"
"Get back!"
Marlie didn't have to be told twice. Hell, she didn't have to be told once. Her feet did most of the work for her; scrambling backwards had been an unconscious effort.
Protectively, Daryl pushed the woman back even further, a little too hard he realized when she toppled onto the pavement. He took that as an opportunity to load his crossbow, despite the close proximity of the walker that had managed to sneak up on the pair and was now only a couple yards away. Never ever would he be so careless again. Of course, he knew that now that there was a geek closing in, but somehow, kissing Marlie always had a strange effect on him and he never seemed to be able to keep track of time or notice his surroundings when pressed up against her.
Things were not going as well as the hunter had hoped. In his frantic state, the arrow fell from his grasp and clattered onto the road. All the while, a drooling undead neared with arms outstretched greedily.
But Daryl was taken off guard when Marlie made an unexpected move.
She leapt off the ground, knife finally in her bare hand, and charged at the oddly quiet walker. The blade reflected Daryl's flashlight brightly into her eyes, but her vision returned once the weapon was plunged into the creature's right eye.
Any noises it had been making vanished and the walker stumbled backwards before finally keeling over. It landed hard, blood pulsing disgustingly from its stabbed eye socket.
Marlie huffed, her heart racing. In an attempt to calm herself, she reached for Daryl's hand.
He replaced the unloaded arrow back into its place on the bow and slung the whole thing over his shoulder before accepting the young woman's palm. Then he pulled her towards the walker and retrieved her knife, wiping it onto his pant leg.
"Thanks," Marlie said with a proud sort of strength in her tone as she sheathed her weapon. Her nerves were rattled, but she admitted to herself that she had just kicked some serious ugly ass.
"No," stated the hunter. "Thank you."
Half-smiling, Marlie was led back to the RV where a serious look of concern was plastered on Dale's face.
"Taken care of," Daryl said simply with a nod as he took Marlie into the vehicle, dreaming of sleep. Sadly, dreams didn't always come true.
TWDTWDTWD
Marlie would be lying if she missed it—the cold wind flowing over her cheeks and tangling into her curls. Granted, she'd only been on a motorcycle once before—with Daryl, just as she was presently—but the feeling of freedom that accompanied the ride was exhilarating.
It was a great way to distract her mind that had been drifting to the night before. Getting intimate with Daryl had been exactly what she needed to calm her nerves that were destroyed with the worry of losing Sophia. Not entirely unexpectedly, the moment had been ruined with the appearance of a sneak little bastard of a walker. Fate had a sick sense of humor, Marlie mused.
With one arm wrapped around Daryl and his crossbow slung over her own shoulder, Marlie traced the tattoos on his back with her free hand. Goosebumps ensued on the man, of which she smiled widely at.
But before Marlie could believe it, they had arrived at the farm and were cruising up the gravel driveway. Green, open, beautiful. Everything that was no longer a part of the world. Sighing at the fact the motorcycle reprieve had to end, Marlie planted a gentle kiss on Daryl's neck and put her chin on his shoulder.
He craned his neck and laid his own little peck on her cheek before pulling up to the house, followed by the trailing RV.
Marlie was relieved when she caught sight of several familiar faces emerging from the dated, yet gorgeous, white house.
Lori, Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog, who had a new bandage on his arm to go along with the healthiness that radiated off of him. But there was someone missing.
"How is he?"
Marlie was glad when Dale asked the question because that meant she didn't have to.
Lori, with her hands on her hips, replied in a voice filled with relief, "He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people and—"
"And Shane," Rick finished, looking back at the other officer behind him. "We would have lost Carl were it not for him."
It was a release for Marlie to hear such good news. Smiling, she kicked the dirt at her feet and leaned happily against Daryl, his bow still over her shoulder.
"Finally, some good news." The hunter crossed his arms and looked down at the young woman practically tied to his hip.
Marlie nodded before gaining the courage to ask what the hell had happened for Carl to get shot.
"It was a huntin' accident," Rick replied. "Just a stupid accident."
TWDTWDTWD
A funeral was held for the man who had unintentionally shot Carl. His name was Otis and his girlfriend Patricia had been in tears during the entire informal precession. Rocks were placed over his grave while Hershel Greene read verses from a bible.
There was something about the man that Marlie didn't care much for. Maybe it was his stiff shoulders or the constant lack of expression of any kind. It could have just been the introduction of strangers onto his pristine piece of land. Was he really that unwelcoming? Marlie wondered. But she couldn't begrudge the man; he'd saved Carl's life, just as Otis and Shane had by venturing out into the town to grab the much-needed supplies.
Which brought Marlie onto the mental subject of Shane. There was something off with him now, Marlie realized, even more so than before. She wasn't quite sure what exactly, but something had happened or he had done something to agitate himself. He looked almost scared, and it made Marlie curious and even a little suspicious.
But there was no time to deal with those kinds of uncertain feelings, though. Finding Sophia was Marlie's—and everybody else's—objective.
"County survey map," announced Maggie, Hershel's pretty daughter who had appeared on horseback back in the forest to steal Lori. She rolled out a large sheet of paper onto the hood of an old truck that belonged at the farm and placed rocks on the corners to keep them from curling.
Shane nodded at the map. "This is perfect. We can finally get this whole thing organized."
"We could split into groups to cover more ground," agreed Rick.
Mr. Greene shook his head and said in his usual lifeless voice, "Not you. You gave three units of blood, Rick."
"Oh shit," Marlie said under her voice, having not realized the extent the deputy had gone to to save his little boy.
"You wouldn't make it five minutes out in this heat before passing out," added Hershel with finality. "And you," he continued, staring at Shane with a hard gaze, "You keep straining that ankle and you'll be laid up for a month."
That was obviously not what Shane wanted to hear. He huffed unhappily and smacked the blue hood of the truck.
Daryl sniffed and nodded. "Guess that leaves me and Marlie."
At the mention of her name, the young woman's heart bounced behind her ribcage before being urged to settle down. Suddenly, the term "giddy schoolgirl" matched her emotions right then. It was the first time that Daryl had actually included her in anything; she always just volunteered against his will. Casually, in an attempt to mask her growing glee, Marlie nodded as well and looked up at the group, looking for any indications of disagreement.
There were none.
Leaning over the truck to indicate a specific piece of the map, Daryl informed, "We'll go back to the creek and work our way from there."
"We could search this area here," Marlie added beside the hunter, circling part of the mapped-out stream. "I don't think we search down that stretch."
Daryl bobbed his head in agreement and glanced over at her.
"Tomorrow then. We'll do this thing right." Rick's hands went to his hips as he addressed the group. No one, as far as he could tell, had any objections.
Leaning onto the hood, Shane spoke up again. "Then we can't just let our people use knives."
Marlie blinked. What was wrong with knives?
"They need some gun-trainin'."
All eyes fell onto Hershel at that moment. He turned to Rick. "I really don't like the thought of you carryin' gun on my property. We've managed so far without them."
And that fact was almost surprising to Marlie. This farm was like a little piece of paradise of which bad things seemed to have no knowledge of. Had Hershel and his people even seen a walker on his property? Surely they had, Marlie thought. There was nowhere without walkers now.
Rick nodded slowly, understanding that Mr. Greene was completely in his right to decide what happened and what was allowed on his own land. Eyeing everyone in the little group around the truck, he said sternly, "Then we will respect Hershel's wishes. This is his property and we are his guests." And with that, he removed his silver Colt Python from his pants and laid it onto the hood.
With reluctance, Shane did the same, and finally Marlie, who felt Andrea's fiery gaze on her.
"Alright," Rick began again. "First thing's first. Set up camp and find Sophia."
"What happens when we find her?" Shane piped. "What if she's bit? We need to have a plan for that sorta thing."
Marlie gulped at the thought of finding the lost little girl a walker instead of what Carol remembered as her daughter.
Hesitantly, Rick replied, "You do what has to be done."
"And her mother? What do you tell her?" asked Maggie, unhappy with Rick's answer.
Marlie sighed. "The truth."
TWDTWDTWD
Morning came much too quickly. Again, Marlie hadn't been able to fall asleep, despite knowing that the farm was relatively safer than other places that she'd been to since the outbreak. She wondered if she was ever going to really feel safe again.
The odds were not in her favor.
The trek along the creek kept her busy, though. Walking alongside Daryl boosted her comfort level and helped to put her mind at ease somewhat. The mission had been the same as before: find Sophia and who cares about anything else? But Marlie found her brain focusing more on Daryl than at the task at hand. It was as though she was going through withdrawals.
"Daryl?" she asked, her pace matching his equally.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for including me to come along with you."
He snorted.
"I'm serious!"
"I didn't say nothin'." Daryl half grinned, making sure that Marlie couldn't see it. "And you're welcome."
Looking down at her black booted feet, the young woman asked with a little bit of hesitance, "Any particular reason?"
"Yeah, actually," he replied immediately, looking over at her.
If Marlie's ears could have swiveled, then they would have just to be sure she heard whatever Daryl was going to say to her.
"You're good with a knife."
She stared, waiting for more, but when nothing else happened, Marlie asked, "That's it?"
"Oh, you wanted more?" Daryl asked, smirking innocently.
"Haha," Marlie said sarcastically. "I'm serious."
Putting on a straight face, Daryl nonchalantly brushed his hand along a low hanging branch, snapping off the end. He fiddled absentmindedly with the tree piece before dropping it and, turning on a dime to face Marlie, he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her fiercely.
It had not been the answer Marlie was expecting, but she gladly accepted it nonetheless. There was a force behind his kiss that took her by surprise, like it had been locked up tightly in his lips and had begged and pleaded to be released. And now that it had been, the kiss burned hungrily like fire on Marlie's lips. She gladly let it and in return, she slipped her tongue in beside his where it fit perfectly. That is, before he slid it behind Marlie's teeth.
Having no intention of tuning everything out, Daryl kept his ears open and completely alert. He wouldn't be caught off guard a second time by a geek.
Meanwhile, Marlie gave into the man, letting his hands find the base of her back and the curve of her neck. He was holding her so close that she could feel his heart beat into hers through her breasts. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt. The gaping hole that had torn Marlie's heart asunder was stitching itself up inch by inch, and every second spent with Daryl healed it even more. The loss of her mom and brother, her suicide attempt, the outbreak itself, being devoid of human contact for weeks all just sank into the back of her mind. Marlie wouldn't ever forget any of those things—she'd wake up to constant reminders everyday—but slowly, something deep began to shift and change. Daryl was reviving her.
He pulled back slightly, to breathe and to see if Marlie had had enough.
"Don't stop," she whispered, her breath warm against his lips.
"It ain't like I wanna," Daryl admitted. He rested his sweating forehead against Marlie's with a sigh. "But we have a little girl to find."
Closing her eyes at the disappointment that came with having to end the kiss, Marlie knew he was right. Sophia was out there somewhere and they had a mission of finding her. Nobody said that a little bit of intimacy wasn't allowed on the journey; Marlie wouldn't have cared even if it weren't. But now they had to return to the task at hand.
So they continued on their current path, through the thick woods and away from the farm.
"Daryl," Marlie said a while later, her ocean blue eyes glued to something up ahead.
The hunter removed the crossbow from his shoulders and pointed it forward. "Yeah, I see it."
It happened to be a house. An old cottage with chipped paint and a creaky porch, the perfect incarnation of a several-decade-old haunted house. The inside was no better. Squeaky floorboards as an ancient as god himself, it seemed, wailed with each step. The windows were unbroken and covered by dusty white sheers and the stairs leading up to the second floor were cracked and warped. It was apparent that the house had not been used since sometime before the end of the world.
Somehow that comforted Marlie. It seemed that not everything was abandoned when the outbreak hit; some things simply died away before any undead even walked the earth.
Marlie tapped Daryl's shoulder before he could proceed with the search. Using the hand signals that he'd once used back during the first search for Sophia, Marlie suggested that they split up.
Daryl shook his head right away. Into her ear, he said quietly, "We stick together. It's safer."
Safety in numbers, right? Marlie knew that it was the best option, even if it was the slowest, too. So they stalked through the grimy house carefully and quietly. There wasn't a whole lot to see, aside from the occasional piece of dust-covered furniture that had once been used many years ago. The house itself gave off a foreboding that sent goosebumps all along Marlie's neck and arms. To make matters worse, something smelled like stale cat food.
If Sophia had been there, then she certainly wouldn't have stayed very long.
They made their way into what looked to be the dining room, complete with a small wooden table, a knocked over chair, and China cabinet. But it was the tiny garbage can beside the hutch that caught Marlie's attention. Again, she tapped Daryl's shoulder and pointed down at the wastebasket.
Daryl reached into it and removed a freshly opened can of gourmet kitty chow. He eyed Marlie with raised brows and then spotted the partially opened pantry door at the other end of the room. Putting his hand up behind him, Daryl kept Marlie from nearing the door.
She rolled her eyes. Did she seriously look like a child? Marlie certainly knew how to take care of herself. Still, she obeyed and stayed put, but clutched her knife tightly in one ungloved hand.
Carefully, the hunter nudged at the pantry's door, his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. But there was nothing in it aside from several cans of vegetables and a small makeshift bed on the floor. He straightened up at the sight.
Marlie peeked around the man, to see what had caused him to stiffen. When she laid eyes on the bed, complete with soft blanket and pillow, Marlie quickly glanced around the room for anymore signs of a visitor. There was nothing.
Sophia had already gone.
They called her name several times outside and around the house, but there was no response. There never was. But finding a bed meant they were that much closer to finding her.
"It's the first real sign that she's alive," Marlie said optimistically. "It's better than nothing."
Daryl nodded. "Definitely better than nothin'. But Carol's gonna be expectin' more than just 'a sign'."
Marlie frowned deeply. "But this will give her hope."
"You and your positivity. Never ceases, does it?"
"No. It would be hard to live in this world without it."
"It's hard to live in this world anyway."
That it was, Marlie agreed mentally. Everyday it was "watch you back" and "don't make a sound" and "run, run, run". Life was probably going to continue being that difficult forever. Even if, by some miracle, Fort Benning did provide shelter and safety, the world was still gone. Sick, infected, and gone. Optimism just made the days go by a little easier, that's all.
"You see that?" Daryl asked suddenly, causing Marlie to reach back for her blade in preparation to use it.
But there weren't any walkers in sight. Just a bush full of white flowers. "Those?" Marlie asked, pointing at them.
The hunter nodded. "Cherokee rose," he informed, touching one of their petals with delicacy.
Marlie admired the way that he acted around the blooms. It wasn't everyday that people took the time to enjoy something so small and frail. Hard-ass Daryl was proving to her more and more that he had a heart and that he wasn't always afraid to show it.
Gently, Daryl picked one flower off its lonely little branch, keeping it safely in his hand until he stumbled upon a half-buried beer bottle in the woods and place the flower's stem into it, leaving the blossom to perch at the top. "For Carol," he said quietly, solemnly when Marlie gave him a curious glance.
The pair continued the hunt for Sophia for over an hour until they chose to head back to their new camp at Hershel's ranch.
Marlie wandered off to the RV with Daryl in toe. She paused just outside the door. "You go. Tell her what the Cherokee rose means."
"You already know?" he asked, not entirely shocked when the intelligent woman nodded a yes. So Daryl headed inside, the glass bottle and flower at his side. He was surprised to find the state of the RV; everything was tidy and clean and orderly.
"Cleaned up," Carol said flatly, sewing into a piece of clothing. Her eyes were puffy and red and her cheeks were flushed from crying recently.
Daryl chewed on the inside of his lower lip. "For a second, I thought I was in the wrong place."
Carol snorted before noticing the bottle in Daryl's hands. "A flower?" she asked, watching him place it on the small table beside him.
"It's a Cherokee rose. The story is that when American soldiers were movin' Indians off their land—on the Trail of Tears, you know?—the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much cuz they were loosin' their little ones along the way. Exposure, disease, starvation. But most of them just disappeared."
The older woman's head lowered at how this story was already going. Memories and images of Sophia were flooding in behind her eyeballs that it was almost too painful to stand.
"So the Elders, they, uh, said a prayer. Asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits. Give 'em strength and hope." His eyes brightened a little as he kindly stroked one petal of the flower. "The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell." He fell silent for several moments, only imagining how difficult it must be for Carol right then, but then he continued. Marlie would have wanted him to. "I'm not fool enough to believe that there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother," Daryl said, suddenly missing his sibling more than he was willing to admit. "But I believe that this one bloomed for your little girl."
There was moment of stillness and silence until Carol finally smiled and turned away, playing absently with the fabric in her hands. Her day had become a little brighter.
Daryl thought it best to leave the woman alone then, so he exited the RV with an air of calmness around him. He'd done the right thing.
"That was good of you, Daryl," Marlie said, leaning against the RV's siding with her arms crossed patiently.
He nodded, but said nothing.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just tired," he lied, walking past her.
Marlie saw right through the fib, seeing in the man's face that he was not, in fact, just tired. Little did he know, Marlie had heard everything. She specifically recalled the last part about his brother. Something clenched in her heart then, realizing just how much Daryl wanted his brother back or at least wanted to have knowledge that the other man had made it and was surviving alright.
Jogging up beside him, Marlie pressed up against his arm and grabbed his hand. She weaved her fingers between his and smiled he squeezed them firmly.
A little bit of Daryl and Marlie, which I had a great deal of fun writing. I had this silly little smile on my face while typing some parts, I'm sure. What do you think? You like? :P
