Chapter 9

Hershel's Farm:

Lori watched Carol steal another glance at Daryl. How many times in this last hour had she caught the woman looking at him, ten, fifteen times? Probably more. She was beginning to think that Carol might be falling for Daryl. It made sense in some ways. Andrea took a seat next to Lori, handing her a metal cup, the kind used years ago and now reserved mainly for camping. Lori looked at the clear brown liquid in the silver cup. "What's this?"

Andrea swatted a fly away from her drink. She hated bugs and now that the world was 90 percent rotted flesh the flies were out of control. Andrea was glad they had the chance to stay on the farm. At least here they weren't being forced into true survival mode, living off of bugs and whatever else they could scrounge for. Living here actually made life seem a little normal. "It's mint tea. Maggie made it. What's he doing?" Andrea pointed her cup at Daryl.

Maggie looked at Daryl when Andrea mentioned him; she remained quiet as she watched the stern looking Dixon. She was still trying to figure out the members of this group and Daryl seemed the hardest nut to crack. She knew men like him in the past, and she knew it was best to leave them alone. She nodded at Lori when the woman thanked her for her trouble. "Was no bother, I picked the leaves and boiled it, that's all. Can't use any sugar for things like this and the honey's just about gone. So it's not great." A few feet away Carol was hanging clothing. Maggie walked over to her and handed her a cup of tea. Carol smiled sweetly. In spite of her loss Carol was still able to smile even if it was only to make their host feel comfortable with their presence on the farm. Maggie tried to remember the last time she smiled, nothing came to mind.

.

Lori remained silent waiting for Maggie to be beyond earshot before bringing up her fears about Carol and Daryl. "Something happened last night. I can't get Carol to say anything. Glenn told Rick that Daryl woke up screaming and pulled a knife on Carol."

Andrea sat up straighter. "Do you think he's losing his mind? The way he came back to camp that day I… He really did look like he had changed."

The ever present Dale moved into the conversation making Andrea shoot him a "if looks could kill" facial expression. "You thought that enough to shot him. But if you ask me, it's just Daryl being Daryl."

The woman laughed neither of them paying any attention to Carol and the fact that she had joined their little gossip circle.

"That's not fair! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Her words were low and biting. "All that Daryl has done… does for this group!" Carol shoved her cup roughly back into Maggie's hands, spilling most of it down the front of their hosts shirt. "I'm sorry Maggie. I'm not in the mood for tea."

.

Daryl walked around camp kicking stones. He was aware the others were wondering what was wrong with him. He couldn't tell them, half of them if not all, wouldn't believe it anyway. To them he was just a stupid racist redneck. And the truth was he didn't want to talk about her. He just wanted to be left alone. Hell, Merle could come walking into the camp right now and Daryl would tell him to leave him the fuck alone. Bad enough the images came at night while he slept, but why were they still haunting him in the day? He had seen worse. Had been involved and done worse since then. So why were the memories back to taunt him now?

Joy's Apartment:

Daryl pushed himself away from the lifeless man lying in the foyer of Joy's apartment. The pool of blood under Dutch was growing, threatening to soak Daryl's pant legs. Never had he killed anyone before and at the moment he wasn't sure if this was really murder, not since the man was already dead.

"This can't be happening!" His voice was slightly below screaming as panic took over his emotions. "I must be crazy. It's a dream... it has to be a dream!" He was breathing so hard that he thought he would hyperventilate and pass out. The only thing that calmed him for a minute was to think about her. "No, Joy's real. She has to be real." He repeated that to himself until he felt his heart rate slow and he could finish the sentence without gulping in air between words.

Daryl kept moving back until he felt a wall behind him. He didn't want any more of the man's blood on him, fearful that he would get what Dutch had. Terrified he wiped his face on his shirt, trying like hell to make sure there wasn't blood on his skin. A memory nagged at him. Dutch had blood on his mouth. He was on his feet in an instant. "No, please no not Joy!"

He had to know. Had to see if Joy was in Dutch's apartment. Daryl jumped over the pool of blood, crashing into Dutch's door. The door was open and it swung inward sending him sprawling onto the carpet landing hard on his shoulder. He ignored the pain, springing to his feet. "Joy!"

The apartment smelled like sweat and death. Daryl tried not to gag. He searched the entire place finding a half-eaten cat in the kitchen. He turned away from it disgusted by the sight of it. Daryl was relieved that Joy wasn't here. That relief didn't last long when he heard the sound of motorcycle idling outside.

.

Daryl stood toe to toe with Merle. He loved his brother, but sometimes Merle really pushed his buttons. He always treated him like he was some stupid kid. He wasn't going to back down though. "We have to go back to the house!"

"We can't go back; the place is crawlin with them fuckers! I barely got away. Don't be a dumbass this is war brother! Live or die, you choose."

"What about my dog?"

Merle slapped Daryl upside the head. "Hell has come to earth and you're worried about your fuckin mutt? He's zombie bait brother. The dog ain't no more"

Daryl wanted to grieve for his dog. He loved Moz. Mosey was the only friend he ever had. He scowled at Merle wanting nothing more than to punch the son of a bitch in the face. "You're a real dick, you know that?"

"Damn proud! You going to cry little brother? Boo-hoo let me get ya a hankie. Here it is." Merle slapped Daryl once again. "Where's you balls? I didn't raise no sissy. Get your ass in that truck we gots to get movin."

Daryl pointed at Merle. If he touched him once more the fists would fly. "And where the hell do you think we're going? You didn't raise me, no one did. Fuck you!"

Merle laughed at him. "Yeah you're right I didn't raise ya, but I made you be a man not some little bitch. Quit your belly aching! We'll head north brother. We'll hole up in that cabin for a while, till this shit comes to a head."

Daryl wanted to argue with Merle, tell him it was impossible to go there since they didn't own it any longer. Daryl was forced to sell the family's hunting cabin to bail Merle out of Jail. He couldn't help but laugh, maybe Merle would have been safer locked up. He wasn't giving in though. He would never stop looking for Joy. "I don't give a fuck what we do. That is… after I dive into the city."

Furious Merle screamed at him, "You ain't doin it!"

Merle grabbed Daryl but he swung out of his grasp. "Try to stop me."