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Chapter Nine: Beer
One Month Earlier
**Daryl**
The CD player of their truck was playing the Eagles as rain pelted the windshield hard with so much water it was like they were driving into a hurricane.
"You're putting words in my mouth, cabri," the Lieutenant argued.
"No, I'm not, I'm taking what you said word for fucking word," Daryl stated.
"Look, just because I don't think Daphne was the sexy one, doesn't mean I wouldn't take her out, but I honestly thought Velma was the better woman. But in no way did I say either woman wasn't good looking."
"Yeah, but Velma wasn't supposed to be the looker, dumb ass. Daphne was the pretty one."
"Daphne was the pretty one because we were fucking told, point blank she was the pretty one. I mean, come on, cabri. Glasses, freckles? A little curvier than the scrawny blonde? Velma was never meant to be the pretty one, but I thought she was. That short skirt and sweater combo drove me nuts."
"At no point did I say Velma wasn't sexy," Daryl growled.
"Then why are we yelling?" The Lieutenant demanded.
"Because I'm fucking hungry!"
"Alright!" Fay shouted back, pulling the truck off the road roughly, down a major highway towards Brownsville, Tennessee. "Christ, we'll find some food."
Ignoring the fact that they were bitching like an old married couple, Daryl kept an eye out for anyplace that'd have food stuff as they entered Brownsville. What he wasn't expecting was for Fay to pull the truck over in front of a building with a dark neon sign that had at one point proudly announced it to be 'The Lover's Secret'.
"You getting desperate or something?" Daryl asked as the Cajun emerged from the truck.
"I had a friend in the Corps," he said as they walked through the rain towards the shop, "a brown-bagger, came in from off base, he was unhappily married and kind of…he liked his pornography. Anyways, he invited me over to his house one night for a…well it turned out to be a swinger's party while his wife was away and they served this pasta in the shape of…well, male endowments, let's say. It leads me to believe that we might find an easy meal here."
"Dong shaped pasta?" Daryl snapped as they inspected the door. Finding it unlocked, they carefully moved inside. "I'm not eating dick shaped pasta."
"If you're as hungry as you claim you are, you'll shut up and eat them." Fay said as they cleared the sex shop. Ensuring the doors were secured, they settled in for the night, prepared to eat and run like they had been doing, before searching the aisles for something to eat.
"Hey, flavoured lube?" Daryl tossed a tube at the Lieutenant.
He tossed it away almost as soon as it hit his hand. "No, have you ever tasted this shit? It's like Satan's ballsweat, here edible panties," he tossed a box at Daryl, who caught it and opened it.
"Why the hell would someone think this is sexy?" He demanded, taking a bite of the paper thin red plastic-looking drawers. It wasn't pretty, but he wasn't complaining. "You tell anyone we ate candied drawers, I'll knock your teeth out."
Fay smirked and held up a box that rattled in triumph. "Weenie linguini! Told you they had penis shaped pasta! Oh, oh, oh, you're in luck, cabri. Titty Orecchiette."
"Saved by the breast," Daryl murmured. "Still not thrilled to be eating anything in a sex shop."
"Ooh, gummy dongs!" Fay moved on to the check-out counter and popped one in his mouth. "Ugh, hard and chewy."
Easing onto a spot on the floor by their packs, Daryl continued to gnaw at his chewy panties, pretending it wasn't meant for weird sex acts.
"Mm, piece of dong stuck in there," Fay said, picking up the whole bag of gummy penis' and heading towards him, picking at his teeth. "Strawberry-banana flavoured, though. Would you like one?" He asked as he flopped down.
"No, I would hate one." Daryl snapped.
"I get it," Fay said after a moment of reading the bag. "Strawberry-banana, that's pretty clever."
"I'm telling your woman you put so many dicks in your mouth while we were on the road," Daryl said.
Fay laughed. "Jesus! What has our lives become?"
Daryl chuckled.
"Ah, two days, cabri. Then we'll be home."
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The next morning western Tennessee was hotter than hell's ninth circle, outside with his shirt thrown over his shoulder, the Lieutenant stood looking about them at the dead main street.
They had packed up the food they found that went unconsumed, but were trying to figure out the best way to head for home, straight south taking back roads or keep to the main dreg?
Playing pick-up with a desk of dirty cards he found in the shop, Daryl sat on the hood of their truck and sniffed.
"Fucking hot out," he murmured.
"Feels like home," the Lieutenant said.
"Hey," Daryl said as a military rabbit transport turned the corner of the street, "we've got life."
Moving close to where he propped Marie against the front of the truck, the Lieutenant squinted against the sun as the vehicle approached, slowing at the sight of them.
Daryl held his crossbow tight as the vehicle stopped and two soldiers emerged. No one moved, the soldiers remained at a distance, rifles in hand.
"Morning," one of them called out.
"Morning," the Lieutenant returned. "Just passing through," he added, clarifying their intent early.
The two soldiers moved out from behind the doors of their vehicle. "Just the two of you?"
"Yeah."
The one soldier nudged the other and said something softly, both looking intently at the Lieutenant's arm.
"You in the Corps?" The man asked.
"Was before all this," the Lieutenant returned, glancing at the Recon tattoo on his upper arm, the one of the hooded death in the crosshairs.
"Rank?" The woman asked.
"Lieutenant," he returned.
Both soldiers immediately approached, still keeping wary distance, but a little less threatening.
"You military?" The Lieutenant asked.
"Sir, yes, sir," the man said.
"There ain't no fort or base in Tennessee, where'd you come from," Fay said.
"Temporary Base Shit Creek, sir," the woman said. "We were sent here to defend against the infected."
"As far as we know we're the last of the US Army," the man added. "Colonel Barrie's gonna want to meet you, sir."
"Oh? Why? He have an interest in Cajuns?"
Both soldiers looked at each in confusion. "Because it's your duty to your country, sir."
"My duty? To meet with this Colonel Barrie?"
"To rejoin with the armed forces," the woman said. "And serve the remnants."
Glancing at Daryl, Fay shrugged. They weren't equipped to fight too much, Marie was down to about twenty rounds and his crossbow wasn't in the best of shape for a fight.
"Well, let's meet with this Colonel of yours," the Lieutenant said, sighing heavily. "But let's get this over quickly, yeah?"
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Inside the transport, as the one soldier followed behind them in their truck, Daryl leaned in close to the Lieutenant.
"What do you figure?" He whispered under the roar of the heavy duty military vehicle.
"I don't know," he whispered back. "If it's actual army personnel it could go either way. They usually run the gamut from friendly and helpful to a rag-tag-bag of dicks."
"Yeah? Well, as long as they ain't looking for a fight, we don't got much lift in us."
Fay nodded grimly.
They finally pulled in through the chain link gate of what looked like an old lumber yard, where a series of tents had been erected and handful of soldiers moved about loaded down with guns and armour.
Peering out through the narrow rectangular window of the transport, Daryl tried to count them, but lost count after forty as they just kept passing soldiers.
They pulled up before a tent like all the others and the man driving the transport hopped out to open the back hatch for them.
Daryl and the Lieutenant emerged, both clutching their weapons nervously. They just wanted to get home.
After a few minutes of waiting with their soldier escorts, the Lieutenant cleared his throat. "So, tell me, this base of yours, you get hit by any big groups of uggies?"
"Uggies, sir?" The woman asked.
"Walkers," Daryl clarified.
"Walkers?" The woman repeated.
"Never mind," Fay murmured. "So," he barked suddenly. "Who's in charge of this unit then? Do I get an introduction or am I to stand about waving my dick in the wind?"
"I don't see your dick at all," someone said from their left. "It's either hiding or too small to wave in the wind."
Daryl's hand twitched for Salt at his side, as a tall redheaded woman approached. From the uniform and the way her hair was pulled back tight and sleek, and from the way the two before them straightened, he figured she was the CO they were looking for.
"What?" She inquired calmly. "Not going to salute me…Sergeant?" She guessed, looking Fay up and down.
"Lieutenant, actually," Fay replied with a grin. "I know I read Sergeant, but they didn't have time to give me another stripe, everyone was kind of dying."
The woman nodded, eyeing both men with warm brown eyes. "And your friend? He reads…mechanic?"
"Brain surgeon, actually," the Lieutenant pointed out. "Pretty damned good one, too."
"Oh? Did he work on yours? Salute me, Lieutenant," she commanded.
Rubbing his chin, Fay contemplated this. "With all due respect, ma'am. I don't wanna."
The woman smiled a bright and beaming smile and nodded. "Are you always this insolent?"
"Only with superiors with red hair, ma'am."
"Don't like red hair?"
"Oh, I love red hair, I just find I can get away with being insolent more with redheads."
Her smile faded somewhat and she leaned in close to him. "You might think a winning grin, pretty face and a sexy Cajun drawl can give you the right to charm your way out of saluting me, but I will break your arm if you don't show me a little more respect."
"I've never had my accent called sexy by a CO before," the Lieutenant whispered back. "But then again Colonel Davenport was happily married with three kids, any compliments he paid me like that would have meant a serious lifestyle change for him." Stepping back from her with a grin, the Lieutenant saluted suddenly. "Ma'am."
She looked him up and down, before sighing. "Alright, I understand now. You've been slapped with insubordination before."
"Yeah, but the incident with the grenade was…I like to call it training."
"How on earth did you make Lieutenant?"
"Oh Lord, let's see, paperwork, paperwork, uh death, poker hand, more paperwork, found a lost kitten, death, paperwork, I think there was a draw I won, death and then another death.
"You trained Marines, I'm assuming."
"Yes, yes, ma'am, I did."
"And you're…what use to anyone?"
"I can comb my hair really fast."
"Well, I'm sorry we made the mistake thinking you'd be of any use to us."
"Yeah? Well, semper fi, lady," the Lieutenant stated with a frown.
Daryl felt the man's 'semper fi' might have been a little sarcastic.
"Still, we need all the men we can get, your friend needs to walk though. We don't house civilians."
"Whoa, hold the fuck up," the Lieutenant said. "I'm not staying, we just want to be on our way."
"You're a registered member of the Marine Corps, are you not, Lieutenant?"
"Yeah, but—"
"The armed forces need you, your duty is here." She motioned to the tent around them. "If you consent to stay, we'll let your friend join up."
"And if I say 'nertz to that'?"
"No one says 'no', Lieutenant. Cadwell? Get Sergeant Rhoades," the Colonel turned to him. "Otis Rhoades," she explained. "He's a Marine, like you, Lieutenant. Do you know him?"
"Yeah, I know everyone in the Corps, we all had a field day once, got to meet each other, eat some hot dogs."
The Colonel smiled dryly. "Well, cute. We'll provide you with a tent and supplies enough to get by and in return you'll be expected to keep yourself in top condition and serve the armed forced by bettering our survival rate."
"Right and at the end of the day, who's in charge?"
"Me," she said.
"Right, but after that?"
"Me. I'm the highest ranked officer at this base and you'll answer to me."
"Neat," Daryl murmured, clearly not pleased with this new development.
As a tall, dark haired man rounded the corner of one of the tents, the dwarfed soldier at his heels like an eager puppy, Fay cleared his throat and took a step back.
"When shortstack here said there was a Marine on the base, I figured it'd have to be one of the toughest bastards I ever knew."
"Otis," Fay returned taking the hand and shaking it warmly. "Still dressing up in women's underwear for kicks?"
The man laughed boisterously. "Sure, dual-cool, whatever you say."
"Clearly you do know Sergeant Rhoades," Colonel Barrie said.
The Lieutenant smiled broadly at her. "I didn't say I didn't."
"Well, Sergeant Rhoades, I want you on these boys for the first few weeks, get them settled with our routine," Colonel Barrie said.
"Sure, ma'am, I think I get what you're aiming at."
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"So we're holed up in this old, abandoned hotel, some Podunk town in the desert, babysitting about ten men with rifles, they don't look like they want us there and we didn't want be there, about three hours in, crouching there on that balcony in the heat, I have to take a leak, I mean bad. So this mad Cajun, pulls off his boot and gives it to me to use. We dropped it over the shadowy side of the balcony when I finished into some old, broke assed cart. To this day I still laugh to think there's a size ten tread filled with piss sitting in that broke assed cart in the desert and the sight of him hobbling back to the base with one socked foot."
"Lieutenant Bryant chewed me out for three days for losing my boot, you know?" Fay broke in. "Lose an arm over there and it's still not as bad as losing a piece of equipment."
They were sitting around a card table in one of the army tents assigned to them, Daryl sullenly seated on a cot in the corner trying to fix a few of his broken bolts, Fay reminiscing with his old friend over a few beers.
"So, tell me," Fay began after a moment, taking a calm sip of his beer. "What's the skinny on this place?"
"US Army," Rhoades said with a shrug.
"Yeah…and since when do Marines play nice with the army brats?"
Rhoades shrugged. "Where's the Corps, dual-cool?"
"If they're smart, they've assimilated into the tribes."
"Tribes?" Rhoades demanded. "You're talking like this is the Wild West and we're surrounded by the Apache's and Comanche's."
"Is there a political office still in charge?"
"No."
"Then it is the Wild West."
"No, it's Martial Law, Fate. You know that. In absence of a civilian government, the military holds power."
"Oh yeah, with – what? – fifty armed men? You think you can hold power with that many, Otis? Go right ahead, but I don't know why your Colonel wants to keep us here against our will."
"Against your will? Fate, you're a goddamned Marine, your duty is—"
"My duty is long gone, Otis. There isn't anything around here but roving gangs of murders and cutthroats, my new mission is to protect an innocent group that fed me and took care of me after the Corps went under. You don't think I didn't try to find them? HQ was full of uggies when I went back, I carried a radio on my back for months hoping to hear something, anything from the Corps. And all I found was a struggling group and scrawny garden."
Rhoades leaned back in his chair. "You have a girl in this group, Fate? What am I asking? You always have a girl in every port."
The Lieutenant took a sip of beer. "This one's different."
"Well, that's rough for you, because as a Marine, you know you belong here with us."
"Mais, that's rough for you, because as a man I know I belong there with them."
Taking another sip of beer, Rhoades sighed. "You were always pig-headed."
"Yeah, used to be a quality you admired in me."
"Still do, but unfortunately for the good of the people, I can't let you go."
"So? We're prisoners? We've broken out of worse dumps than this," Fay stated with a bitter grin.
"You're not prisoners, your boy there can walk all he wants, no one cares, but you're a Marine. Your mission is this."
"You can't honestly believe that," Fay argued.
"The world we know is gone, this is the last of it. Semper fi, Marine, you know that better than I."
"Yeah, I do. But this craphole ain't the Corps and there's nothing you or anyone else can do that'll make me bow down to some army Colonel. And I know you, Otis. You're not happy with this arrangement, you're miserable."
"That might be, but—"
"But you're a coward? Can't live without the safety net of the military life. I know. Why do you think I joined up in the first place? But the fact of the matter is, we'd do better among the people struggling to survive then we do here trying to rebuild a world that's long gone."
"Well," Rhoades said, downing the rest of his beer and setting it on the table. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Fate. I am. But you know I can't let you out of this camp."
"Not even if I told you I was going be married?"
Rhoades paused. "No. Congratulations, though, dual-cool. She must be pretty damned special. I know it was hard after Eloise."
"Once a brother, always a brother, Rhoades," Fay said, climbing to his feet to address the other Marine. "But kindly get the fuck out of my tent."
Rhoades glanced over at Daryl, who calmly leaned over the edge of the cot and spit onto the dirt floor. Quietly, Rhoades left and Daryl knew he wouldn't go far.
"We'll get home, cabri," Fay assured him softly. "Don't worry." He turned to face Daryl with solemn eyes. "I'll get you home to your girl."
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The Marine Dialect
Dual-cool (or double-trouble) - Implies that the Lieutenant is trained in both parachuting and diving.
Skeeter wings (or mosquito wings) - From the previous chapter (sorry), means the bar a private in the Marine Corps earns upon completion of their basic training.
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Merle's Right Hand - Ehehehe, once you see it, you can't unsee it!
auntheddy - I see what you did there. First people were calling her Orphan Annie, now that (and believe me that wasn't my intention when I named her!)
DarylDixon'sLover - He'll be fine. He's got moxy! ^_^
Brazen Hussy - Just imagine every minor character in this chapter was played by Michael Rooker. That'll appease your Merle lust. ^_^
Whooptiedoo - ...perhaps. ^_^
Yazzy x - I always suspected Fay would be a proud daddy. He seems the peacock type.
Surplus Imagination - I'm glad you're picking up on all the foreshadowing. I appreciate people who have an eye for details.
HGRHfan35 - The Lt seems like such a pansexual manwhore, he's probably take you up on that offer (as long as Grace okayed it).
vickih - My goal with Cash is once people start to warm up to him, remind them that he is - in fact - a complete douchebag.
itsi3 - O_O! Thanks!
Claire Randall Fraser - Okay, I'm working on it! Trust me! I know he needs some lovin'! ^_^
Queenola-Witty - Ding ding ding! You won my secret contest to find my favourite line of that last chapter, you don't win anything, but my admiration for spotting and appreciating it!
