... Chapter 10 ...
Beth couldn't help but roll her eyes as she followed the man to go back into the house. It was so like Daryl to follow up probably the nicest thing he had ever said to her with a blunt reminder of how he truly felt. It hadn't been said with the standard surliness she had come to expect though so she decided to take the exchange on a positive note.
The unexpected compliment had her feeling better than she'd felt for a long time. Daryl wasn't the type to hand them out lightly and she never though she'd be the recipient of one. As she locked the screen door behind herself she acknowledged that the bike in the garage wasn't the only thing that had made finding those keys for him worthwhile.
At this point the house was so dark that Beth had to dubiously feel her way down the walls to get to what she hoped was the general vicinity of the kitchen. She could hear Daryl fumbling for something up ahead but she couldn't see him in the pitch blackness to know for sure. The bright beam of a flashlight suddenly came on, and with it she was instantly able to breathe easier. She had never liked the dark and had struggled silently with the phobia since the day the lights went out permanently.
''Where'd you find that?'' She asked as she watched Daryl swing the light around the floor of the living room.
''Had it.'' He muttered, bending down to shove aside a pile of old 'Guns & Ammo' magazines to find two candles that had been collecting dust behind them. ''Kept it from tha country club for times like this.''
''Good idea...'' Was all she said, remembering sadly that she had left hers laying on the bar after her emotional breakdown.
Beth tiredly sat herself down cross legged on the floor as Daryl lit the candles using the lighter he kept in his pocket. Since he had the thing out, he must have decided it was as good a time as any to have one of his precious cigarettes. As she leaned back against the arm of the chair she wondered if they would ever talk about what had happened in front of the dead walker. To her it had been very moving but Daryl seemed completely unphased by it, almost like it had never happened. Beth figured that the natural defense mechanisms that made him such an effective killer would probably kick into overdrive to suppress such a moment. She pulled a deep breath and resigned herself to the fact that the man would probably prefer take one of his own bolts to the chest than to ever discuss it.
''Hey, where's that can of soup ya said you found?'' Daryl asked around the cigarette now hanging from his lips.
Unknowingly caught in a trance induced by the flickering candles nearby, Beth dragged her gaze up. ''Oh, it's on the kitchen counter. I didn't see a can opener in there though... or spoons for that matter.''
Daryl took the flashlight into the kitchen to retrieve the can. When he came back, he was digging in his pockets for the set of keys he had shoved there.
''S'all good, got an ol' fashion can opener right here.'' He said, holding the entire ring up by the piece in question.
''That's great...'' Beth said with a smirk, ''You got a couple of spoons on that thing as well? How about an electric blanket and two tickets to paradise?''
Daryl sniffed back the semblance of a chuckle. ''Smartass.''
He finished his smoke in the time it took for him to work the can opener around the rim of the lid. Since they had no spoons, he poured the cold soup into two empty mason jars sitting nearby. Daryl dropped his cashed cigarette butt into the discarded empty can before carrying the jars over to where she was sitting.
He handed her one before slumping down in the chair with his own. ''Probably best if ya drink it fast.''
''Uh uh,'' She said with a grimace. ''I've had my fill of drinking stuff fast from mason jars for today thanks very much.''
Daryl lifted his soup and uttered ''Heard that'' before choking down the lumpy mixture in one fell swoop.
Beth finished her own by swallowing as much as she could manage in as few mouthfuls as possible. Not another word was spoken as they both sat there wearily - Daryl slumped in the chair and her on the floor with her back against his armrest. She put her empty jar down next to her and rubbed her hands over her arms. The cold soup had only made her colder, quite the opposite of what soup was intended to do.
''Ya cold?'' Daryl asked from behind her.
''Yeah…'' She yawned. ''but… I'm too tired to go find some blankets.''
''I'll go,'' He pushed himself out of the chair with a groan. ''Figured it best if we crash out here anyways. Windows are mostly boarded up plus that back door is close in case we need ta get out quick. Here, you move that coffee table ta make some space an' I'll see what I can find back there.''
Beth struggled to do as he asked as he rummaged in the back bedrooms with the flashlight. She had been trying to fight off how emotionally and physically exhausted she was but now it was starting to catch up to her, completely wiping her out. She shoved the coffee table over as far as she could but found it still only provided a limited amount of room for the two of them. Who were these people to possess every piece of junk under the sun but to not own a couch?
Daryl came back in carrying an armful of blankets and an old sleeping bag and picked up on the limited space situation right away. Beth shrugged indicating that it was beyond her control and waited for suggestions.
''Yeah, well… that ain't gonna work.'' He muttered, dropping the covers down next to where she was kneeling on the floor.
''What about the bedrooms?'' She asked, already knowing his answer before he gave it but still wanting to feel like she was contributing something to resolving the problem.
A look of disgust flickered across Daryl's face. ''Fuck that. I'd rather sleep outside.''
It was true. She had gone in the bedrooms once while looking for the key and it was saying something that they were truly the worst aspect of the house.
''Here,'' He indicated to the bedding on the floor indifferently, ''jus' make ya self a bed an' I'll crash in tha chair with whatever ya don't use.''
''What?'' Beth said, assessing the space one more time. ''No, it'll be fine. There's room enough for the both of us. It'll be tight but it's better than where we've slept the last three nights…''
''Nah, s'all good.'' Daryl insisted almost too quickly. ''Chairs fine an' I was almost asleep before I jus' got up anyways.''
Beth was too tired to argue so she picked out the warmest of the blankets while leaving him more than enough to use for himself plus the sleeping bag. Daryl settled himself back in the chair and indicated that he only needed one, so she piled the rest of the covers on top of herself and used the sleeping bag as a pillow.
She curled up in a ball at his feet and was lulled yet again into the comfortable ambiance produced by the candles. The blankets smelled like mothballs but it was the warmest she had felt all night. All that being said, Beth was confused as to why she wasn't fast asleep already, lord knows she was tired enough.
''Daryl?'' She whispered, not really expecting a response.
''Mmmm…''
''You awake?'' She kept her voice hushed, just in case he wasn't.
Beth heard him sigh from where he sat in the chair above her.
''Guessin' so.''
Rolling onto her back, she met his gaze. ''I was just wondering… what are we going to do from here?''
Daryl ran a tired hand through his hair and stared off into the far corner or the room. ''Gonna take a look at the bike in the morning an' hope that whatever's wrong with it is an easy fix… supposing that there is somethin' wrong with it, that is.''
''If there is, can you fix it?'' Beth asked, realizing that she actually didn't know if Daryl was mechanically inclined like that or not. She'd assumed so because he rode, but it had never been actually stated or proven that he knew how to actually work on them.
Daryl shrugged once from where he sat, ''Won't know 'til I look at it. Probably… if the shit I need to do so is in the garage with it, yeah… don't see why not.''
Relief flooded through Beth's depleted system. It wouldn't have done them much good to find the bike if they had no possible way to start it. Suddenly a new thought dawned on her and she pushed herself up onto her elbows to say with a smile, ''So you were a motorcycle mechanic then… before all this.''
Daryl shook his head with a sniff of denial. ''Nah… me n' Merle both had bikes for as long as I can remember. Couldn't afford to have someone fix 'em when we broke 'em or wrecked 'em so we jus' figured out how ta do it ourselves.''
Beth slumped back down on the sleeping bag, feeling vaguely disappointed with his answer. She supposed it didn't much matter in the end. As long as he could fix the motorcycle now, who cares what he had done before. Inquiring minds just wanted to know.
Speaking of which…''When was the last time you saw your brother? ''
Daryl threaded his fingers behind his head and tilted his chin back as he searched his memory. ''Guessin' it was back at the campground jus' outside Atlanta, a while before I met you an' yours. That's where I first met Rick. I attempted ta stomp his ass into tha ground for leavin' my brother handcuffed to a roof. ''
''You, Rick and Glenn went back for him though, right?'' Beth asked. She was genuinely interested and wasn't tired enough to not take advantage of the fact that Daryl seemed to be in a rare talkative mood. ''I mean… that's what I heard…''
''Yeah, but he was long gone by the time we got there. Weren't like he was jus' gonna sit around an' wait. He cut off his hand and high tailed it tha hell out of there an' I …well, I ain't seen him since.''
Beth searched his face from where she lay.
''Do you think he's dead?'' She asked up to him quietly.
Daryl snorted and any poignant sentiments he might have been briefly afflicted with vanished. ''Nah… not my brother. He always used ta say ain't nothin' that can kill ol' Merle but Merle. He's one tough son of a bitch… he's probably out there somewhere making someone else's life a livin' hell.''
Worrying at her lower lip, Beth hesitated before asking, ''Do… you think everyone else is dead?''
He pulled deep breath and took a moment to answer. ''Can't say. Jus' know I ain't seen no tracks, not around these parts anyways.''
Pulling the blanket up to her chin, Beth pondered on his response. Well, at least he hadn't said yes so maybe he was coming around. Her eyes began drooping with fatigue and she fought to stay awake as she studied him in the candlelight. This was the most they had ever talked and if anything, it only made him that much more interesting to her. Daryl had his head propped up on his knuckles as he stared tiredly back at her. After the tumultuous day they'd had, Beth could only hope that tonight marked the turning point in their relationship that they so desperately needed.
''Daryl…?'' She whispered, unable to fight the weight of her drowsiness any longer.
''Hmm.''
''Once you get the bike running… then what?''
''Don't know,'' He confided quietly, ''guess we'll jus' have'ta figure it out.''
He leaned over and blew out the candles that flickered nearby. ''Question time's over. Get some sleep.''
…...
Beth fell asleep almost immediately, leaving Daryl sitting in the dark as he contemplated their conversation. The longer he thought about it, the more he knew one thing that was for damn sure - no matter how shit went down with the bike, the two of them were leaving. He had already wasted enough time lingering in his fucked up state of mind, time that would have been better spent garnering supplies and preparing for the long haul. There was no way in hell he was going to start doing that here. As far as Daryl was concerned, the motorcycle outside was the only thing that made coming to this place even remotely worth the effort.
The moonlight streaming through the only uncovered window in the room was all Daryl needed to see the girl sleeping on the floor. He had no idea how it happened, but he had probably just told her more about himself than he had any other person except for maybe his brother. Christ, he must be more exhausted than he thought… or maybe just relieved that the day was over. Either way, he was just thankful that Beth hadn't felt the need to bring up what had happened earlier between them. His apprehension that she might had been unfounded, leading Daryl to believe that she was just as ready to move past the whole drunken situation as he knew he was.
Beth mumbled something in her sleep, drawing Daryl's attention back to where she was laying. The minimal light in the room cast shadows across her skin, accentuating the curve of her face. She had her hands balled up under her chin and Daryl found himself yet again wondering at her age. Somehow the two of them had managed to co-exist in the prison for months without ever having a single conversation about it, or anything in general for that matter.
It hadn't been hard to do, they each had assumed different roles under Rick's leadership so their paths had seldom crossed. Of course Daryl's own anti-social tendencies had ensured that it stayed that way. If he had been dismissive of her it was only because it had been so easily done. In a group full of strong women, he had long considered her the weakest link and had gone out of his way to make damn well sure she knew it when they had fought earlier.
He sniffed regretfully into the cool night air. It wasn't like he hadn't known that his natural inclination to be an asshole always seemed to kick into overdrive when alcohol was involved. Him and Merle had gotten into more drunken brawls than he cared to remember because of it.
When fatigue finally did lull Daryl to sleep, he was haunted by the nightmares that had become a consistent for him since leaving the Greene family farm. Blood soaked hordes of walkers closing in around him until he suffocated under their weight. The only difference was now Beth was inexplicably there in the chaos with him and even in the middle of things, he was struck by how unusual that was. She was saying something and he found himself straining to hear it. Suddenly the vision of her disappeared, leaving the walkers to descend down upon him and plunge him into the void of darkness.
Daryl jerked awake, covered in a sheen of sweat with his heart thudding painfully in his chest. Seeing that Beth was still asleep, he slumped back in the chair and pressed his damp palms to his eyes. The endless nightmares were shitty enough as it was without having yet another person he knew making regular appearances in them. Daryl couldn't say how many times he'd had to watch his brother cut off his hand. Night after night in gory detail, all while being blamed for leaving him to rot on that Atlanta rooftop.
The sun was starting to rise, and with no chance of falling back asleep, Daryl decided he might as well get up and take a look at the bike. The sooner he got to it, the faster they'd be out of this dump. Stepping carefully over the girl, he picked up the Horton and made his way outside. As soon as he got there, he lit up a much needed cigarette. The early morning air was cool on his skin and the sky was awash in the deep orange and reds that marked the onset of a clear day.
He got to work the moment he reached the garage, lowering the Triumph down on its jacks so he could get a better look at it. It was in fairly good shape... better than he expected... but it was still in need of some serious work. Whoever had tried to get it running before had been more of a tinkerer than a skilled mechanic, and had left some of the hardest things to fix until last. As previously surmised, the key for the motorcycle was with the rest on the ring in his possession but of course, the engine refused to turn over when he tried it. He should've known it wasn't going to be that goddamn easy.
Several hours later, Beth emerged from the back of the house. She squinted in the glare of the sunlight before heading over to where he was working inside the garage. Daryl was struggling to loosen the engine's fly wheel bolt and glanced up at her through his hair as she entered.
''How's it going?'' She asked with a sleepy yawn.
The bolt finally gave and Daryl expelled the breath he'd been holding as he had strained against the stubborn thing. ''It's goin' ''
Beth leaned against the work counter, ''We forgot to burn the body last night.''
''Yeah... well, it ain't going nowhere,'' He said, flexing his stiff fingers around the rusty tool in his hand, ''I'll do it tonight if we're still here.''
Beth immediately perked up. ''If? You mean you can get it running today?''
Pulling himself to his feet, Daryl grabbed the towel he was using to clean up with from the nearby toolbox. He really hoped so but the thing was a fucking mess. They were lucky the guy who owned it had the forethought to have all the parts he needed nearby, or they'd be in a much bigger world of hurt. The longer Daryl worked on it, the more he came to the realization that the bike had been more of a restoration project rather than an actual necessity.
''I don't know… gonna try.'' He indicated at the multiple parts he had spread out on the floor. ''Fuckin' crankshaft needs ta be replaced, so do the valve intakes… spark plugs are shot ta shit. I can do it with what's here, it's jus' gonna take time.''
Beth stared down at the items he was pointing at and tried to look like she had the faintest clue as to what he was talking about. Giving up, she asked a question that would have an answer she could understand. ''How about gas?''
Daryl shrugged. ''Got plenty,'' He tilted his chin to the drums placed against the wall. ''Looked like he was hording it along with tha rest of tha shit layin' 'round this place.''
Relieved to hear it, Beth smirked. ''Maybe he was preparing for the zombie apocalypse.''
''Pfft, ain't no wonder he died here then,'' Daryl remarked as he squatted back down next to the engine again, ''Stupid bastard didn't even have a working vehicle ta put it in.''
Ignoring his gruff response, Beth pushed herself away from the counter. ''Well, I don't want to get in the way so… I'll leave you to it. ''
Daryl was in the process of torqueing the caps from the crank shaft cover when he happened to look over to see the girl hovering in the doorway. His brows drew in confusion. Christ, now what?
She twisted her fingers together and turned to meet his gaze. ''I just wanted to say… that I'm glad it's you that I'm out here with.''
Blindsided, Daryl could only stare at her.
''I know that you'd probably prefer if I were Carol or Michonne, but I wanted you to know that I appreciate what you're doing here.''
As soon as she was done, she released a deep breath and looked so relieved to have gotten out the point she was trying to make that Daryl felt like a dick for making his feelings so obvious.
He dropped his eyes to the engine in front of him. With nothing better to say he just muttered uncomfortably, ''Yeah… well… ain't done nothin' yet.''
Thankfully leaving it at that, Beth left him to his own devices to go back to the house. Daryl watched her go through the open doorway of the garage, completely confounded by her gratitude. How she could possibly be glad to be stuck out here with the likes of him was beyond comprehension. As far as he could tell, there wasn't a day that had gone by that he hadn't managed to make her feel like shit in one way or another. It wasn't his intention... it was just in his nature and wasn't something that could be helped. And here she was being all appreciative of it like he was doing her some kind of favor...
He didn't get it... or her for that matter. He mentally shook his head at the brief interaction and got back to work.
…...
Daryl labored on bike well into the evening, only stopping to smoke his last cigarette when his frustration with the endeavor got the better of him. The sun was setting and the shadows it left behind were making it hard to see what his fingers were doing. Wiping a tired, dirty hand down his pant leg, he held the clutch down and turned the key for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. This time however, the engine flared to life... puttering slowly at first but gaining traction as he gave it some gas. Daryl was in the process of making some minor tweaks to the throttle when Beth came running full speed through the doorway with an incredulous look on her face.
''I heard it from the house!'' She managed to gasp out as she panted for breath. ''Holy crap, you did it!''
Not wanting the roar of the engine to attract unwanted attention, Daryl cut it off and kicked the bike off of the jacks that held it stationary.
''Jesus, don't sound so surprised.'' He grumbled.
Not put off by his dour attitude, she said with a smile, ''I'm not surprised, I'm just really happy.''
Daryl looked over to see that she wasn't lying, she looked happier than he could recall seeing her... which was a time long before the death of her father. It brightened her whole appearance, enhancing her features and making her blue eyes even bluer if that was at all possible. The vibrant color stood out in stark contrast to the paleness of her skin and the effect had him staring at her stupidly.
He snapped himself out of it and pulled the keys from the bikes ignition.
''Yeah, well... anyways... still have a few things I gotta do. Break pads need changin', that's gonna take some time… carburetor's still glitchy as hell...'' Indicating over to the adjacent wall with his chin, Daryl continued disgruntledly, ''Gotta shit ton of gas but no fuckin' oil. Engines got some in it but it's old an' not enough to get us as far away from here as I wanna be.''
Beth followed his line of sight before asking, ''Are we leaving tonight to go get some?''
''Nah, it's too late plus tha headlight ain't workin'...'' Daryl mentally added it to the list of all the other damn things that he still needed to fix. ''Gonna knock out what I can in tha morning an' then we're gone. We'll jus' get some on tha way.''
Nodding, Beth rubbed her cold hands together to generate some heat between them before saying, ''It's not a moment too soon, we're down to a pack of stale crackers and a can of expired green beans.''
She made the meal sound as awful as it was probably going to taste but Daryl honestly didn't care. Against all odds the bike was running and once they were on the road, he knew he'd be able to hunt again and get them some meat. They were going to need it if this weather continued like it was. They were going to be in for one hell of a winter if the last couple of nights were indicative of what was coming their way.
He held the ring of keys out to her. ''Here… take these an' go inside before ya catch cold. Can openers right there on 'em.''
''What are you going to do?'' She asked, trying not to let her teeth chatter together.
''Gonna finish up in here while I can still see somewhat an' then take care of that body.'' He nodded towards the door, ''Go on. Be in as soon as I'm done.''
Beth was shivering enough to take him up on his offer, leaving him alone to do as he said. Taking advantage of a second wind, Daryl was able to fix the headlight and adjust the timing on the carburetor before the onset of night brought any further progress to a halt. With the break pads being all that was left to replace, he finally felt comfortable enough that they could ride the damn thing without fear that it would break down on them at the most inopportune moment. As long as the first stop was for oil, there was no reason the Triumph wouldn't serve their needs, at least until they found something better.
Having a working mode of transportation wasn't the only thing that had made all the time and effort he had put into the bike worthwhile. The sound of its engine sputtering to life had him feeling better than he had for a long time now. The Governors attack on the prison and Hershel's death had undeniably set him on the cusp of giving up and the guilty depression of it had almost crippled him. It made it easy to forget how far he had come under Rick's leadership. Through no fault of his own, he had watched himself steadily slide back into being the asshole he had been before, all while being unable to do jack shit about it.
Getting the motorcycle up and running had somehow managed to remind him of his purpose, effectively pulling him back from the edge.
Well... that and Beth.
Daryl threaded the padlock through the chain on the garage doors and snapped it shut. The chances of anyone finding it were slim but he wasn't taking any chances. The drums of gasoline alone were worth their weight in gold and as recourses dwindled, they would become an even more valuable commodity, one that people would kill for. When it got to that point, he planned on always remembering that they were there.
Using the moonlight as a guide, Daryl traced his way back to the shed that housed the still and the leftover moonshine. Grabbing two mason jars full of the stuff, he headed to where the tarp covered corpse lay on the ground and doused it with the alcohol. Lighting the end of a stick on fire, he threw it on top of the body and stepped back as it was immediately engulfed in flames. Staring at the fire as it weaved around itself, his fingers tightened around the crossbow strap at his chest. He spared one last look at the dead walker before uttering "Thanks man" into the night air, meaning it sincerely.
As he walked away from the overwhelming heat generated by the flames, Daryl was relieved to be feeling more like himself. By this time tomorrow they'd be long gone from here, and he found he could barely wait to get going. To have the open road under his tires once more was going to be a godsend, clearing his head of the prison massacre and providing a fresh start. For him and for Beth.
For the first time that he could recall, Daryl acknowledged to himself that the girl was as much a part of this situation as he was. If they were going to survive… well, they were just going to have to do so together. Yeah, he could easily do it on his own but the events of the last 24 hours had made him realize that he didn't really want to. Beth could be a pain in his ass, but she had stepped up when he hadn't even realized needed someone to do so. It had earned her a place as far as he was concerned.
As Daryl approached the house, he shook his head unbelievably at the notion. He just hoped that the two of them didn't end up killing each other and sparing the walkers the hassle.
…..
Thank you for taking the time to read "What Still Lies Ahead" to this point! As you can see, I have decided to leave Merle's fate unknown. I love that character and even if he chooses to not play a part in this story, I still would like to think he'd be out there somewhere raisin' some hell.
No TWD copyright infringement intended. Please feel free to drop me a review or comment - they make my day (and fuel my writing fire!)
Bethyl forever.