Author's Note:
Hi, everyone. Let me start off by saying, I'M SORRY. I LIED. I'm a dirty, rotten, liar, liar face. I made an announcement last chapter that this one was going to be the chapter where they reach the CDC, and it was originally going to be, but it got away from me! I started writing and the whole 'going to the CDC' thing just didn't work out. Welp. I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure by the end of next chapter, they'll have at least reached the CDC. Next chapter, guys. I'm almost sure of it...
Anyways, lol. As always, thank you to all those reading this story. I hope you continue to enjoy my work. An extra special thank you to those who took the time to let me know what they think: sillygabby, Filiafamilias, DarkFireNyx, Mrs Sorbo, SenSen-Chan, gabby871(I've got an extra special surprise for you this chapter!), 'Guest', DevilsDelusionalMistress, 'Guest', masseffectrulz, 'H.', tie228, Mooka333, and Ain'tEasyBeingBreezy. You all are so wonderful. This story would not get written if not for your support and feedback. For reals.
Shout out to my lovely, anonymous reviewer 'H.' for calling out at the end of Chapter 8 EXACTLY what Glenn did, before Chapter 9 was even posted. You were totally on point in your prediction! (: You da real MVP.
I don't want to spoil too much in this top note, but keep an eye out at the bottom for an important author's note!
Without further ado...
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. I bow to the copyright of AMC and Robert Kirkman. The only thing I own are my OC characters and their likeness.
Special Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this work of fiction do not reflect those of the author. This story is rated M and is intended for mature audiences only.
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The silence that greeted my confession was all consuming. The look on the faces of the survivors was complete shock, staring at me like I had grown three heads. I didn't see malice in any of their expressions, but then again, they'd only just been told.
My heart was hammering in my chest, so loudly that I was sure everyone would be able to hear it over the silence. My hands were cold and clammy and I felt like the temperature had dropped a good fifteen degrees in about ten seconds. I shivered, moving closer to Merle's side in a subconscious attempt for warmth and security.
Finally, Rick broke the silence, but when he spoke, it wasn't directed towards me. He looked at Glenn, "Glenn, is this true?" he asked, his voice hoarse and faltering. His eyes scanned back to me for a moment before going back to Glenn.
"What do you mean, is it true?" Glenn asked, and I was surprised to hear that he sounded angry. "Dammit, she just told you!" he exclaimed. "Quit treating her like she's some criminal, dude! You're being a dumbass!" he demanded.
"It's fine, Glenn–" I started to say, only to be interrupted by Glenn.
"No, Avery, it's not fine," he snapped and I felt my eyebrows raise. He looked at me seriously before continuing, "You've done nothing wrong in this group and now that I found out your secret, I can see how crappy you've been treated. And it's anything but fine," he explained seriously.
I took his words at face value and felt some of my dislike for him fall away. A lot still remained though; after all, I'd told him not to say anything and not even four hours later he was putting me on the spot and forcing me to spew my guts out to the group. Still though, I suppose he wasn't the worst.
"I saw it. I saw it with my own two eyes," he exclaimed to the rest of the group. "Andrea asked me why I didn't help her? It was because I couldn't," he told them. "I couldn't help her because she pulled up in the middle of a group of Walkers and walked right through them. Right past them, like it was nothing," he explained, and I felt a hint of my annoyance towards him came back. "She told me they don't even acknowledge her. Said she could be in the middle of a feeding frenzy and–"
"That's enough, Glenn," I snapped furiously. He had made his point, he didn't need to spill out all of my trade secrets. And I could see it now. The more he talked the more the group's faces shifted from shock to something else. Something mean and signifying their feelings of injustice towards the situation. Jealousy. Why me when it should have been them? Why me when they would've killed to have my ability? For them or for their sons and daughters?
"Glenn's over exaggerating," I spoke, though it was a lie. He wasn't over exaggerating one bit. Still, the looks I was getting were enough for me to send me backpedaling and inching closer towards Merle's side. To my extreme surprise, I felt his strong arm wrap around my shoulders, giving me a little squeeze. "They notice me if I make too much noise, or if I'm in a big group of them," I said, mixing a little lie with the truth, "the trick is to be faster and smarter than the corpses. Which isn't that hard, as you can imagine."
"So all this time, this is what you've been hiding?" Rick asked me, stepping closer. "When you showed up here with Merle and those guns? Yesterday, with all those supplies?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "This is it," I told him.
"Why? Why didn't you tell us?" Rick asked me, his voice softer than I had ever heard when it was directed towards me. "Christ, Avery, you got no idea the type of things that were going through my head...I never would've acted half the asshole I was if I had just known–"
"Yeah, 'cause you all were just so welcoming," I snapped, interrupting me. "Just had me dying to spill my innermost secrets," I continued before sighing. Being snappy probably wasn't the best way to go about this. I pushed away from Merle, closing the distance between Rick and I until there was only about a foot between us. "Besides, you didn't need to know. I wasn't hurting anyone," I said quietly, trying to make it so that no one could hear me. "Just look at your people, staring at me like they can't wait to hang me up and drain my blood," I whispered, watching as his eyes traversed over the members of his group. I stepped back, crossing my arms across my chest. "You can't blame me," I told him. His eyes met mine once more and I could see the understanding in them.
"I wanna see it," I heard a voice speak. I looked over Rick's shoulder and saw that it was Shane that spoke. His eyes were on fire, looking at me like I was something out of a dream. It was frighteningly similar to the not-so-nice look that I'd come to associate with him, but also different. There was something there that hadn't been there in the past. Hope.
And fuck if that wasn't the scariest look I'd ever seen on his ugly face.
"I'm sure you'll get a chance to do just that, mouth-breather," I sneered, wrinkling my nose in disgust. "After all, we've all got ourselves a one-way ticket into hell."
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The group dispersed in a surprisingly quiet manner, though I felt all of their eyes on me as I made my way to the side of the RV. Andrea was still on the ground, her hand stroking Amy's cold cheek lovingly, staring into her dead eyes as if they were her last ties to the earth. I saw the bloody wound from Andrea's bullet, making her blonde hair look morbidly red.
I knelt down next to Andrea, reaching out for Amy's face and pulling her eyelids down with a brush of my hand. If it weren't for the green legions and gore all over her body, I might have been able to imagine she was sleeping. As it was, I knew she wasn't.
"Let's get her in the ground, Andrea," I suggested, though it was more of a command than anything. Andrea made no move or motion to respond and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I went inside the RV and stripped the bed of the fitted sheet before returning to Amy's side. I draped it over her body and began securing it to her frame when Andrea finally spoke.
"What are you doing?!" she snapped at me, trying to pull at the sheet to get it off Amy's body. "Leave her alone!"
"Do you think she'd want this, Andrea?!" I snapped, slapping her hands away forcefully. "Do you think she'd want to be laying here, for all the world to see?" I asked harshly. "It's disgraceful. She deserves better than this. Let's get her in the ground," I said, forcing the last three words out through my teeth.
Andrea looked at me for a moment and then back to her sister. Then she nodded, "You're right," she agreed.
After I kicked her into gear, we managed to get Amy in the ground pretty quickly. It turns out that while I had been in Atlanta getting supplies, Jim had been digging graves all day. I didn't get too much of the specifics but he had apparently had some type of dream that led him to do it. I remembered the dream I had had the night before finding Merle on the roof and shivered.
I was heading to my truck when I saw him. He was leaning against the side of it, his crossbow strung across his back and a cigarette in his hand. He was staring off into the distance when I saw him and I paused in my approach.
Daryl Dixon. I hadn't talked to him since the night when I had stormed out of his truck. Since then, it felt like he had been purposely avoiding me. I couldn't really blame him, as I had been avoiding him just as purposefully. But then last night, there had been that moment when I thought that the corpse was going to get him and it had devastated me. I'd gotten to that corpse in record time and the relief I felt when my knife had penetrated it's skull before it could get a chunk out of him could not be understated.
And then there had been that moment when he had turned around to face me. He had looked at that corpse at his feet and had known that I had saved him. When he had looked back to me, there had been an undercurrent of heat and fire that had ignored everything around us. The cries and screams of terror, the groaning and growls of corpses, the crying girl in his arms, everything. For that one, tiny sliver of a moment, nothing and no one else had existed. I'd almost thought he might try to kiss me, right there in the middle of the bloodbath.
But we weren't in the middle of a bloodbath anymore. Now the only thing that surrounded us was heavy silence and the smell of burning, rotting corpse flesh in the air. I felt a stirring of anxiety in my gut, but it was pretty minimal, to be honest. I'd been awake since dawn the previous day and between running around the city, the confrontation when I arrived back, Amy's death and the subsequent battle of corpses, I might as well have been dead on my feet. I walked right past him, lowering the hatch of my bed and hopping up. I needed clothes that weren't stained with the blood of the girl I thought would become my best friend.
"Avery," he called from his positioning on the ground.
I didn't look over my shoulder to look at him. Most of the boxes that had been in my truck the night before were still there and I was having a hard time finding my clothes. "Daryl," I replied, surprised at how lifeless my voice sounded. I shifted a box in my attempt to find my clothes, only to have another fall on top of my injured arm. "Ow! Fuck, god damnit!" I cursed, struggling to pull it off with my good arm.
"Let me help ya," I heard Daryl's voice, much closer now. I looked over my shoulder to see that he had hopped into the bed of my truck and was making his way towards me.
For some reason, anger filled me at his words. I gave the box my arm was trapped under a mighty shove, sending it crashing down onto the other boxes, it's contents of lotions and beauty products spilling out haphazardly. Once my arm was free, I stood to my full height.
"I didn't ask for your help, Daryl Dixon," I growled through my teeth. "Didn't ask for it and don't need it," I told him before turning around and continuing my search for clothes. I found some in a box and I pulled out a shirt. I stripped off my old one and quickly donned the fresh one. When I turned back around, Daryl was still standing there. "Enjoying the show?" I sneered. "What do you want?" I demanded.
He just stared at me for a moment, completely silent before he shook his head, "Nothin'," he said quietly, turning back around and maneuvering over the boxes. I watched him walk away until his feet hit the gravel and then I found myself following him.
"No, fuck that," I snapped, jumping down to the gravel as well. "Obviously it's something," I said to his back, as he hadn't stopped walking away from me. "You don't seem the type to talk just to hear your head rattle, so what is it?" I demanded. Anger filled me again as he continued on his way, as if he couldn't hear me. I ran to close the distance between us, grabbing his forearm and wrenching at it with all my might. He spun around at my contact, his face alight with rage. "What is it?!" I almost screamed at him.
"I'm sorry, alright?!" he yelled right back at my face. "I'm sorry for the shit I said about you and Merle," he said again, quieter now.
I felt my anger evaporate instantly, as if it had never been there in the first place. Daryl Dixon didn't seem the type that apologized very easily. In fact, it seemed like it was almost painful for him to say the words.
"It's okay, " I said weakly, my exhaustion returning in full force. I suddenly felt dizzy, and I swayed on my feet. "You didn't know..." I managed to get out. My voice sounded far away to my ears.
"You alright, girl?" I heard Daryl ask, his voice sounding like he was speaking from underwater.
I shook my head to try and clear it of whatever was obstructing my hearing. It only served to further pronounce the feeling of vertigo I was experiencing. "I don't feel–" I tried to finish speaking, tell him that I wasn't feeling the greatest, but I wasn't able to. Darkness invaded my vision and I knew no more.
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Daryl Dixon POV
"I say we put a pick axe in his head and be done with it," I spat. People were standing around in a group, talking about Jim like there was any other option than the obvious one. It was all pretty obvious to me. You get bit and you're pretty much dead already. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
"Is that what you would want?" Shane snapped at me, self righteous as ever. Even the sound of his voice pissed me off. "If it were you?" he asked.
"Hell yeah," I told him honestly, "and I'd thank you while you did it," you fucking prick, I finished the statement in my head.
"I hate to say it," the old man spoke up. My eyes flashed to him, "I never thought I would...but maybe Daryl's right," he sighed, looking defeated.
I fought the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Maybe I was right. Of course I was fucking right. What part of this situation did these people not understand? You get bit, you die. You die, you rise again. You rise again, you need to get put down. The way I saw it, we were saving him a couple extra steps.
Rick stared open-mouthed at Dale, "Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," he exclaimed, looking at the old man like he was a whole different person.
"I'm not suggesting–"
"He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?" Rick asked.
I rolled my eyes. Was this guy for real? "The line is pretty clear," I snapped, my temper holding on by a thin thread. I was fixing to grab the pick axe that was sitting on the ground and take care of the problem myself. "Zero tolerance for Walkers, or them to be."
Next they started up about going to the CDC or some shit and I stopped paying attention. I found my eyes traveling across the way to where Jim was sitting by himself. He was pale as a ghost and kept shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his head of some thought he didn't want. I felt a sliver of pity stirr for him. Most people didn't have to sit around and wait for the turn like he was having to. Most people were like Amy, who died from blood loss or some other type of trauma before they had a chance to turn. Jim was the first one I'd seen who looked completely fine other than the single bite mark on his chest.
I wonder what he must be feeling like.
"Avery, you've got to tell them," the sound of the new girl's name broke me from my revery and I forced my attention back to the group. It was Glenn that spoke, looking at the small blonde expectantly.
At the sound of her name, her eyes flashed to Glenn and her skin turned deathly white. Merle, who was standing next to me, made his way over to her in an instant and I felt annoyance pop up again. What was with them two? My brother never gave no shits about anyone other than himself until this girl showed up. Now he was going to her side all the time, acting like some protector. It made no sense. He ain't never done that shit for me.
"Tell us what?" Rick asked, his head whipping around to look at the girl, suspicion in his eyes.
"Nothing," she spoke. Too fast, too panicked. She was lying, and everyone knew it. "I don't know what he's talking about," she lied some more.
"Avery, c'mon," Glenn pleaded to the girl, approaching her. Merle, who was at her side now, started displaying all the signs that he was fixing to beat some ass. Grinding his teeth, puffing out his chest, stretching out his hands. Glenn was fixing to get his teeth knocked in if he didn't back up. "You've got to tell them! You could be Jim's only chance!" he continued.
"She said she don't know what yer talkin' 'bout, China Man," Merle growled, taking a meaty hand and pushing back on Glenn's chest. The smaller man stumbled back but seemingly didn't care. He was looking at Avery with fire in his eyes.
"You want him to die, Avery? Is that what you want?" Glenn almost yelled. Avery flinched, drawing closer to Merle's side. Her eyes were wide, like two giant pools of water sitting on her face. I'd never seen her look like that before. Angry, yes. Indignant, yes. But frightened, no.
"What's going on here?!" Rick shouted, finally losing his cool. He'd been holding on by threads since the end of the Walker attack but now he'd seemingly lost it. "What are you talking about, Glenn?"
"He ain't talkin' about nothing, ya pig, so why don't ya mind yer own–" Merle started, only to be interrupted by the girl. She pulled on his arm, stopping him from heading towards Rick like he was trying to do.
"Merle, stop," she said beseechingly, "Glenn's right," she finished, sounding tired and worn out. The look on her face was resigned.
"If ya say so, Birdie."
The girl stepped forward, raising her chin in a show of strength. She squared her shoulders and turned her head, sizing the group up. She was the image of strength, if not for the fear in her eyes and the tremors in her hands. "I'm invisible to the corpses," she pronounced. "I don't smell like food to them. Glenn thinks I might be key to the cure."
Silence. Absolute complete fucking silence. Shock wasn't even the word to describe it. It sounded completely insane and yet so many things suddenly made sense.
She'd shown up loaded with supplies, looking healthy as ever. Certainly hadn't been starving before she found us. The way she had been able to get those guns and Merle 'easy peasy', as she put it. And yesterday, going off by herself into Atlanta and coming back with all them supplies, more than a group of five men had been able to.
Girl was fucking invisible to the Walkers. Well, shit.
I looked to Merle and he met my gaze. An unspoken question passed between us and he gave me a subtle nod. It was the only confirmation I needed.
More conversation followed but I stopped paying attention. I felt like the biggest asshole on the face of the planet. I'd known she and Merle were hiding something, but I'd never even considered the possibility that it was something like this.
The group eventually dispersed and Merle made his way over to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, shaking me slightly. My eyes snapped to his face.
"Ya alright, lil' brother?" he asked.
"You knew? You knew about her, the whole damn time?" I demanded, anger filling me.
"A'course I did."
"And you didn't say nothin'?" I snapped, pushing his hand off of me. "You couldn't tell me?!" Merle and I were never one to have much as far as conversations go, but he was never one to lie to me, either. I'd asked him what had happened on that roof maybe a dozen times, and he'd always given me the same, bullshit story. I'd known it was bullshit. He'd known that I knew. He never changed his story though, not a once.
"She asked me not ta," he replied simply, as if that was a good enough explanation.
"So you just do whatever she tells you to?" I asked, disgusted. Saliva built up in my mouth and I spat angrily. "The fuck are you? Her pet dog? Merle Dixon, lapdog, is that it?"
"Ya watch yer mouth, lil' brother," Merle warned, anger leaking into his voice. "I ain't nobody's lapdog, ya hear me? Watch yerself."
"Then what is it, huh?" I asked, confused and angry. "What is it? Why'd you lie to me, Merle? You and her? You guys got a thing or somethin'?" I demanded, finally voicing the worry that had been festering in my head since the night he took off after her when she lost her shit on Shane.
"Lord, no. C'mon, man! I'm old enough to be lil' Birdie's father," Merle laughed, seemingly finding the situation funny or something. Made me wanna punch his face in.
"Ain't never stopped you before," I said, sizing him up. He continued to laugh as I spoke, only serving to piss me off more. I clenched my fist, getting ready to punch him in the face. Merle's eyes flashed to my side and he observed me tensing up. He put his hands up to placate me.
"Woah, now lil' brother," he said, through his laughter. "Calm yerself down, now, alright?" he told me, lowering his hands. He'd stopped laughing by this point, though he continued to smirk like some dumb bastard. "Avery and I ain't like that. She's just a girl I owe my life to. Not ta mention my right hand," he said, holding it up as proof. We'd managed to get the cuff off about a week ago, but the red lines from where he'd cut himself were still apparent. "C'mon now, man. I know you gotta tingle in yer pants for her. I wouldn't do that to ya."
"Man, shut the fuck up," I snapped, abruptly embarrassed rather than angry. I sighed, wiping my brow of the sweat that threatened to drip into my eyes. The Georgia heat was blaring harshly on us survivors, making the smell of rotten bodies even worse.
"Why, lil' brother? Ya say somethin' to her?" Merle asked. He still looked way too damn pleased with the situation.
"Mind your own business, dickhead," I snarled before walking away from him. I went to where the pick axe lay on the ground, picking it up. Might as well be useful.
I spent the next half hour bringing down the sharp head of the axe into the skulls of the disposed Walkers. It was dirty work, work that no one else particularly wanted to do. Seemed like the perfect job for me.
I looked down at the corpse I was about to put my axe through, pausing when I saw that it was the remains of that dickhead, Ed. He'd been chewed on and torn apart pretty thoroughly, with a large part of his chest and stomach missing. I couldn't help but be a little pleased that the douchebag had finally gotten what he deserved. I obviously had never said anything or done anything about it because it wasn't my place, but I'd seen how this sorry excuse of a man had treated his wife and daughter. Reminded me of my old man. Not to mention, this sorry fuck had been the one to punch Avery in the face. I was going to enjoy putting an axe through this sorry piece of shit's head.
"I'll do it," I heard a quiet voice from behind me. I turned to look and saw that it was Ed's wife, a little mouse of a thing. I couldn't quite remember her name-Karen? Carla?-but I remembered her face. "He was my husband," she explained, reaching for the axe. Well, damn. Who was I to say no?
I handed her the axe and stepped back to observe. She seemed to falter for a moment, shifting the tool in her hands to find her grip. I looked at her face and saw that her lip was trembling and tears were forming in her eyes. Then, almost out of nowhere, she lifted the axe above her shoulders before bringing it down on her husband's skull. His rotten flesh busted open around the sharp blade and made a wet, squelching noise. She pulled the blade free with slight effort before bringing it down again and again, growing more hysterical with each motion. I took a step back, suddenly feeling like I was imposing on a private scene that I shouldn't be seeing.
I walked away, going to grab my canteen for a much needed drink. As I brought it to my mouth, I looked around and my eyes eventually fell on the new girl, who was some distance away, helping the older blonde lady bury her little sister. Guilt settled in my gut. I remembered our last interaction and cringed.
I had been the one to seek her out, something I was never particularly comfortable doing when it came to women. I had obsessed and stressed about it until I was practically pulling my hair out like some stupid, little teenaged girl. Finally I had just said fuck it and walked over to her truck. She slept in the bed of her truck instead of the RV for some reason, something that I found endearing. I'd used a bird call to try and get her attention, something that wouldn't have woken her up if she was sleeping. To my surprise, her head had peaked over her paneling and I was greeted by her wide, blue eyes staring down at me. She'd flashed me a smile before crawling over the side of her truck to the ground, and I'd been greeted by the sight of her scantily clad body in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She'd walked in front of me and I wasn't ashamed to say that I had enjoyed the view immensely.
We'd gone into my truck and everything seemed fine, until she had mentioned my brother's name. The way her voice had sounded, halting and unsure, had set me off. I'd heard that voice before, countless times. Merle would pick a chick up, fool around for a minute, and leave them hanging. Inevitably, they'd come to me for answers. I wasn't a very approachable person but to a girl who hooked up with my brother, my walls weren't too much of a challenge.
So...uhh...is Merle okay? I mean, he seems fine, but I've been hearing around camp that he's been acting weird...
Well yeah he'd been acting weird, you stupid bitch, I'd thought. He's sitting in his tent, detoxing from the drugs he'd used on a daily basis before he met you. He's running off after you after you freak out and leave, like some pussywhipped bitch. He ain't never run off after anyone before. Not for some tail and certainly not for his own brother.
Needless to say, the interaction hadn't gone well. I hadn't actually said anything but I'd all but accused her of fucking him. I didn't know what bothered me more, the idea that she was fucking him or the idea that she wasn't and yet he still held her up on a fucking pedestal. Either way, she had caught my drift and proceeded to freak the fuck out. She'd gotten out of my truck faster than I had thought was possible and slammed my door so hard that I was surprised my window hadn't shattered.
Since then, I'd avoided her like the plague. Stayed in the forest all day and only came back when everyone's campfires were barely even embers. I'd seen her a handful of times, it was hard not to in such close quarters, but any time I did I promptly turned and walked away from the situation. I'd gotten caught up in some weird tangle of emotions because of her and I needed to get a fucking grip. This girl was fire and if I kept thinking about her, I was most definitely going to get burned. She'd managed to do something that no other girl before her had managed to; she'd gotten under my skin. Had me thinking about her day and night, like some prepubescent girl with a crush. I needed to distance myself. She was too young, too fiery, too much.
Until last night. The Walkers had taken us all by surprise. There had been blood and gunshots and screams that filled the air and everything had seemed to speed up. I had seen that little girl surrounded by three Walkers and instinct had taken over. I'd shot at two of them with my crossbow and put a knife in the other one's head without a thought. I'd be damned if I'd let a kid turn into one of those things. When the Walkers were dealt with, I had kneeled down and spoken to the girl. She was panicked and scared, and my normally distant demeanor probably hadn't done much as far as making her trust me. Eventually, using many more words than I wanted to, I had gotten her into my arms to try and find her mother.
When I had turned around, Avery had been standing there, eyes wide and chest heaving. At her feet lay a Walker with her blade sticking out of it's head. In that instant, I'd known that she had just saved my life as well as the little girl in my arms. I had simply stared at her for a brief second, blown away at how beautiful she looked. Covered in blood and wild-eyed, mouth set in a snarl, looking at me in a way I didn't even know how to describe. I'd wanted her, right then. Me, the most practical man in the fucking world, I had wanted to take her in my arms and claim her as mine. Walkers be damned. If it wasn't for her stepping back and snapping me back into motion, I might've done it, even despite all of my efforts to distance myself from her.
But now that I knew what she and my brother had been hiding, I felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. I felt guilty, which was a very rare emotion for me. I felt the need to mend the bridge that I had burned for some sick, masochistic reason.
It was this thought that had me leaning against her truck, waiting for her to come by. What would I even say to her? I didn't apologize to people. I rarely did anything that I felt called for one. The whole situation made me extremely uncomfortable and I debated on just walking away from it. Why did I need to apologize? So, I'd been a prick to her, so what? I didn't owe her anything, even if she had saved my life. She wasn't nothing to me.
My thoughts were interrupted by her approaching. I hadn't let myself pay too much attention before but now that I was, I noticed how small and tired she looked. Her blonde hair was matted with dried blood and guts, and her clothes were ruined. Her face, normally so lively and bright, was haggard and worn, with dark circles under her eyes. Her mouth was drawn in a thin, harsh line. Her blue eyes looked dead.
Avery met my gaze and I saw anger abruptly cross her features. Great, she was still pissed at me. She squared her shoulders and walked right past me, heading towards the back of her truck. She lowered the hatch at the end of her bed and hopped inside.
"Avery," I called out to her, walking towards the back of her truck. I hated how pleading my voice sounded.
"Daryl," she responded icily in greeting. She didn't even turn around to look at me, digging through some of the boxes that cluttered her bed in a search for something I didn't know what. I watched her for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. The sight of her had evaporated any misgivings I had about apologizing to her. I knew that she hadn't deserved my previous aggression towards her and I knew I wanted to make things right. I just didn't know how. Suddenly, a box that she had been holding as she digged through the box underneath it fell, landing on her injured hand. "Ow! Fuck, god damnit!" she cursed, howling in pain as she tried to push the box off of her injured hand with her good hand.
I was up onto the bed of her truck before I really knew what I was doing, hoping over the boxes. "Let me help ya," I said as I approached her.
Something in the tone of my voice must've set her off because while she had been struggling previously with getting the box off her hand, she suddenly shoved it off with surprising force, sending it's contents scattering to the floor. As soon as her arm was free, she stood, looking at me square in the eye.
"I didn't ask for your help, Daryl Dixon," she seethed, saying my name like she thought it was a bad word. "Didn't ask for it and don't need it," she continued. I was surprised by the venom in her voice and it took me off guard. I was frozen for a moment, unmoving as she turned around and continued digging through the boxes. She pulled out a fresh shirt, promptly pulling hers off before putting the new one on. For the brief moment that her skin was exposed, I observed her. Bruises covered her sides, presumably from lifting and maneuvering the heavy boxes yesterday. She'd probably compensated for her weak hand with her body, resulting in her bruising. There was also another, rather large bruise that spread from her front, over her right shoulder. Probably from the kick back from the rifle she had been using last night. I felt a stirring of pity for her. If her body was this battered and beaten from the events of the last two days, I'd hate to imagine what her mind felt like.
She turned around, looking surprised to see me still standing there. "Enjoying the show?" she snapped at me, snarling. "What do you want?" she demanded, angrily. I was abruptly embarrassed, feeling like some perv despite the fact that I hadn't looked at her in any type of sexual way when her shirt was removed.
"Nothin'," I mumbled, turning around and walking away. I made my way out of her truck, hopping down onto the gravel below. What had I even been thinking, coming over to talk to her like this? I'd been a fucking asshole to her, and now I expected her to listen to me? Why should she? She was a self-respecting, independent woman. Of course she wasn't gonna take any shit from me, some white trash, stupid hick. I was a fucking idiot and I was pissed that I even put myself in this situation. I shoulda just stayed away, like I'd told myself to.
I was walking away when I heard feet hit the gravel behind me, and steps approaching. "No, fuck that. Obviously it's something," I heard Avery speak from behind me. I didn't stop. She'd made it pretty clear that she didn't want to hear a word I said. I wasn't about to stick my neck out only to get slapped in the face. She was just some silly idea that I'd got in my head, and I needed to flush her out of my system. "You don't seem the type to talk just to hear your head rattle," the girl continued, "so what is it?" she demanded.
Just keep walking, Daryl, I thought to myself. Just keep walking.
Suddenly I felt a hand wrap around my arm, yanking harshly on it. The force of it had me spinning around, facing her. Her features, so lifeless only minutes before, were alight with rage, looking at me like she wanted to rip my head off. "What is it?!" she practically screamed at me.
"I'm sorry, alright?!" I almost yelled, my anger and embarrassment leaking through into my voice. Shock filtered over her features, taking place of the anger. "I'm sorry for the shit I said about you and Merle," I repeated, lowering my voice with little effort. It was hard to stay mad when she looked so bewildered and confused.
After a few moments, she finally spoke, "It's okay..." she said, and her voice had lost the fire that it had only moments prior. It sounded tired and fragile. I watched as she swayed on her feet, her face losing it's color. "You didn't know..." she continued.
I looked at her for a moment, watching as she shook her head slightly, her eyes closed. She swayed some more. "You okay, girl?" I asked, concerned. She opened her eyes to look at me.
"I don't feel–" she started. I watched as her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and she started to fall. Shocked, I quickly grabbed her and stopped her from hitting the ground. She was dead weight in my arms, and felt far too light. She'd probably had eaten less since she'd gotten to our camp than she had the whole time the apocalypse had been going on. I bent down, placing my arms behind her knees and lifting her in my arms. Her head sagged back, her body lifeless.
"Is she okay? What happened?" I heard a voice call. I looked over to see it was Rick, heading towards us. He sounded concerned.
"She's fine. She just fainted," I told him, adjusting her in my arms. "I'm gonna put her in the RV," I told him. His eyes flashed to the girl in my arms, taking in her condition before he looked back at me and nodded. I walked past him, heading to the RV.
"What happened to her?" I heard Dale ask, from his position on the roof. I looked up at him for a brief second, before returning my gaze forward. I didn't answer as I maneuvered the girl through the narrow opening of the door, making sure not to bump her head on anything as I brought her to the couch. I laid her down on it as gently as I could, observing her for a moment and taking in how peaceful her face looked when she was sleeping. Girl had been up for almost two days straight, she needed the rest she was getting now. I pulled away from her, exiting the RV and closing the door behind me.
"She alright?" I was asked almost as soon as my hand left the handle. I turned to look and saw it was that Shane fucker, looking between me and the door anxiously. I held back the urge to snarl.
"She's fine," I growled, shoving past him. "Just exhausted. She passed out," I said begrudgingly. "She needs rest. Leave her alone."
"Well how long does she need?" he asked, sounding impatient. "We don't have all the time in the world here. If she can do what she claims she can, we need to go on one more supply run before we all go on into the city. We need guns, ammo, all the shit that she didn't bring back for some reason. Bringing back lotion and hair products, such a fucking girl–"
"Why don't you go yourself then, asshole," I snapped, abruptly seeing red. "That girl in there? She's exhausted. She went into that city and brought the things she thought we needed. She already brought you and your pretty boy friend the guns he dropped, already gave you all of hers," I seethed, walking towards him angrily, "And you want more? Man, go fuck yourself," I snarled.
"Hey, hey!" I heard another voice call, and was greeted by Rick rapidly approaching me, giving me a slight shove away from his friend.
"Of course we need more, you white trash junkie," Shane spat back, anger crossing his features. "We always need more. Why would she tell us if she didn't want to help with that?" he demanded.
"Maybe 'cause the China Man forced her hand, ya fucking idiot," I snapped, wanting nothing more than to punch this fucker's teeth in. His nose was all messed up and crooked; doubtless that someone else had felt similar to me in the past and had actually followed through on it. "You think she'd have told us otherwise? Girl was scared shitless, for Christ's sake."
"How would you know? You two best friends now or somethin'?" he asked acidly, sizing me up. I looked at him hard in the eyes and felt an undercurrent of emotion there. Jealousy. Normally I'd just assume he was looking at me in anger, or maybe he just didn't like me. But I was familiar with this particular feeling, especially nowadays. I knew what it was.
"Or somethin'," I replied back, taking a step forward.
"Woah now, let's calm down here," Rick spoke, stepping between us. He looked to Shane pointedly before looking back to me. "Daryl, I know Avery's had a rough couple of days," he said looking at me, "but we need to make sure she's telling the truth. That's quite a big claim that she's boasting."
"Are you kidding me?!" I heard another voice call from beside us. I looked and saw it was Glenn, rapidly approaching us. "Rick, I told you," he said emphatically, "I saw it with my own eyes. I saw her do it. She's not lying. Why would she be?" he demanded.
I heard a door slam open and my eyes went to the RV. Avery stood there, looking at all of us with a blank expression. The discussion about her abruptly stopped, and we all looked at her, dumbstruck, like we'd been caught with our hands in the cookie jar.
"Oh, c'mon, Glenn," she finally spoke, stepping down from the RV. She swayed precariously for a moment before finding her footing and heading towards us. "It's something you've gotta see to believe," she stated, turning her gaze towards Rick and Shane. "Am I right?" she snarked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
"Look, Avery, I know–" Rick started, but she interrupted him.
"Yeah, whatever, Rick," she snapped. "I know how it is. You get a new animal at the zoo and everyone can't wait to crowd around and see it."
"That's not how it is, Avery. It's just–"
"I don't need your excuses, pig," she snarled, crossing her arms along her chest. "It won't work, anyway. If you want me to go into that city for more guns, I need to do it myself. You all can't be there," she told him.
"Why not?" he asked curiously, taking a step towards her.
"Yesterday, when Glenn snuck into my truck," she started, casting her eyes over to Glenn and sending a glare his way. He ducked his head in shame. "Corpses were all over my truck, all day. Clawing at the sides, trying to get up. They could smell him in there. I was killing 'em all day and couldn't figure out why," she told us, rolling her eyes. "Guess I'm more blonde than I thought. Anyway, in the city you need to be fast, sneaky. In, out, no attention drawn. Anyone else even being there is gonna draw attention."
"There's gotta be a way," Shane spoke up, and Avery's eyes flashed to him. "We need to know, need to see it with our own eyes," he told her.
"You listen here," she snarled, stepping towards him. "I don't know how many times I have to say this, cowboy. You don't talk to me. You don't look at me. Hell, I'd prefer if you didn't even breathe in my general direction, you got it?" she snapped, and I couldn't help the smirk that I felt form on my face. Her open dislike of Rick's right hand man gave me more pleasure than it probably should've. "Even if I agree to this, you're sure as hell not coming along. It'd be too tempting for me to throw you to the corpses."
"The fuck is your problem, Avery? I'm getting sick of your hostility, girl," Shane seethed, taking a step forward.
"Yeah? Well I'm getting sick of your ugly face," she shot right back, stepping forward and closing the distance between them. "Not to mention your voice, your breath, your fucking shadow–" I took a step forward, wanting to be close in case I needed to step in and intervene.
"Alright, that's enough, you two!" Rick almost shouted, interrupting and stepping between them. I figured he was getting sick and tired of playing mediator. "Shane, back off. Go somewhere," he demanded, shooting his best friend a look.
"Are you kidding me, man?" Shane demanded, looking offended that his best friend was trying to send him off.
"No, I'm not, Shane," he said, his voice firm. They locked gazes and I felt like there was an unspoken tension between them. "She doesn't want you here, brother. You need to go."
Everything went quiet for a minute as Rick and Shane stared each other down. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Shane turned and took off, kicking a bucket as he walked in frustration.
Once he was gone, Rick turned to look at Avery. "What do we have to do to make this happen?" he asked her.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "We don't have time for this," she finally said, sounding frustrated. "If we're gonna help Jim, we need to get to the CDC, like, yesterday."
"We have time for this," Rick argued. "What do we have to do to make it happen?"
She sighed again, kneeling down and eventually plopping on her ass. Her fire that she had directed towards Shane had apparently been put out, and the tired, exhausted look had returned to her face. "We'll take my truck to the highway," she finally spoke, rubbing her eyes. "Then we walk into the city. You really need more guns or do you just wanna see me with the corpses?" she asked blandly.
"I suppose we could use more guns, but it's not really a necessity," Rick admitted sheepishly.
"That's what I thought. If we don't have to go too far into the city, I'd rather not. You all will have to keep back a fair distance, and not downwind. You'll draw their attention and bring them coming your way. Then you'll be able to see them ignore me as they go in for your throats."
"Alright, then let's go. Who do you want?" he asked.
"You, Merle. And you, if you want," she said, looking to me. I nodded.
"How about T-Dog?" Rick suggested, looking at me nervously. Probably thinking me and my brother would jump him the first chance we got him alone. If Merle hadn't had some stupid epiphany, he'd probably be just in his worry. As it was, he had nothing to worry about.
"Fine then," Avery agreed, rolling her eyes. "Let's go. Time's a'ticking."
.
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Avery's POV
I hopped into my truck, slamming the door to the driver's side behind me. Rick hopped into the passenger's side, with Daryl, Merle and T-Dog getting in the back, which had been hastily cleared out. I jammed the key into the ignition, listening to the engine roar to life while fighting the urge to roll my eyes. From my peripheral vision, I saw motion from the ground beside me. I looked and saw it was Glenn, looking up at me from his position on the ground. I sneered, flipping him the bird. He saw the gesture and frowned, looking down to the ground.
I couldn't believe we were doing this. Wasting valuable daylight to go oogle at me like some exhibit at a freak show while a man lay dying. I seriously doubted that my condition was the key to anything, but the CDC sounded like a good deal. Maybe they'd have something they could give him, something to help. It was ridiculous that Rick insisted on spending our time like this.
I shifted gears, gunning the gas and speeding out of the quarry. I remembered that there were people in the back just in time, slowing down as I made my turns. Wouldn't want to pitch any of them into the ditch or off the side of a cliff.
"This is a waste of time," I said finally, glancing over at Rick.
"Maybe," he agreed, looking forward out of the windshield. He glanced down to where my hand was resting on the shifter. "You can drive stick?" he asked, sounding surprised.
I looked over to him, abruptly annoyed. "What is it with men being so surprised I know how to drive manually?" I asked, aspirated. "What? Just because I have a vagina I'm incapable of shifting gears? C'mon, dude," I snapped, casting a glance at him.
"Ain't nothing to do with you being a girl," he shot back, a startled laugh escaping him. "Sheesh. The mouth on you. Always catches me off guard. I'm just surprised, is all. I don't even know how to drive one of these things," he admitted.
Almost against my will, I felt a small smile reach my lips. I returned my eyes forward before speaking, "One of my mom's old boyfriends taught me, couple years back. Said automatics were for pussies," I told him, thinking back to Roy. For the first time since his death, I felt happy rather than depressed at his memory. "Guess he was right," I snarked.
Rick laughed lightly and silence eventually fell between us again. We reached the highway and as the first skyscrapers came into view, I hit the brake and shifted into park, cutting the engine. "We walk from here," I told him. He nodded, opening his door and stepping out. I followed suit.
"Now listen here, guys," I called, walking around to the back and addressing them as they each hopped down. "This is how it's going to go. All of you are going to stay behind me. Keep your fucking macho attitudes in check," I told them, looking at each of them seriously. "I know it's gonna be weird, what you're gonna see, but I'm gonna be fine. I won't need your help. Do you understand?" I asked.
"Ain't gotta tell me, Birdie, I know the drill," Merle quipped with a grin. I grinned at him, rolling my eyes.
"So you just gonna walk into a group of Walkers?" T-Dog asked, stepping forward, a look of panic and confusion on his face. "We just gonna let her do that? Man, y'all are crazy," he stated, looking between Rick and Merle.
"Ah, don't worry about it, Mr. Yo," Merle said, cuffing T-Dog lightly on the shoulder, "Birdie over here'll be just fine. Them Walkers won't harm a hair on her pretty, lil' blonde head, I'm telling ya."
"How can you be so sure?" he demanded, his body tensing. T-Dog and Merle had never hashed out their issues about what happened on the rooftop in Atlanta and no doubt it was making T-Dog be on edge.
"Cuz I seen it before."
"Yeah, he has," I agreed, taking a step towards T-Dog. I looked at him seriously until he met my gaze. "I appreciate your concern," I told him, "but it's unnecessary. I'm gonna be fine. And you'll be, too, as long as you listen to me. But you have to do as I say. You just have to, alright?" I asked. He looked conflicted but he eventually nodded, looking me straight in the eye. I let out a sigh of relief.
"Alright," I said, stepping back from him. I looked at the sky, observing the sun. It looked to be about 10 or so. I needed to make this quick, give us enough time to get back to camp and get Jim to the CDC. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" I asked. I turned, heading down the street towards the city.
I heard their footsteps following behind me, as I had instructed. I walked quickly, with purpose in my steps. It wasn't too long until I saw a small pack of corpses shuffling about, about four of them, heading down the highway. I was elated. We hadn't even gotten into the city yet. I looked over my shoulder at the men, "Don't do anything, you hear me?" I demanded. "Not a damn thing. I got this. Stay here, stay back."
I ran forward, stopping about thirty feet away from the survivors behind me and about twenty feet from the group corpses in front of me. I pulled the hatchet free of my belt, shifting it in my grasp and then I waited. It felt like hours for the corpses to reach me and I was instantly annoyed at their slow pace. They didn't seem to notice the four men behind me, as the breeze was coming from their direction. The smell of their rank, rotten flesh reached my nose once they were about ten feet away. I positioned myself right in front of their path, holding completely still as they passed me. One of them even bumped into my side as they walked and it growled slightly before it continued on it's way.
Once they were past me, I turned around to face the survivors behind me. All of them except Merle were standing stock still, looks of complete shock on their faces. The corpses were getting closer to them and I ran to catch up, swinging my hatchet viciously at their heads one by one until they were all littering the ground lifelessly. I knelt down, using what was left of one of their shirts to clean off my blade. After I was done, I stood and walked back towards the men.
"Alright, you guys ready to go?" I asked, purposely keeping my tone light. Rick, T-Dog and Daryl were speechless, looking at me with wide eyes and I decided not to stop. I walked right past them to my truck, opening the door and climbing up. I looked and saw that they were still there, looking at me. I sighed, "Are you guys coming or not?" I demanded.
Merle was the first one to move, heading to my truck with a bounce in his step. "Shotgun!" he called, sounding like an excited, little kid. I rolled my eyes at his antics, leaning inside and closing the door behind me as I waited.
Well, the cat was truly out of the bag now. No coming back from this.
.
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A/N: I can't help but worry that this chapter was sort of anticlimactic, in a way. I know you all were so excited to see the survivor's reactions and I'm sure you all were expecting some sort of blowout or something, but I had never intended for that to be the case, at least not right away. The survivor's reaction to Avery's ability is going to be a reoccurring conflict in this story. Seriously, people are never going to get over it. So if you didn't get the reaction you wanted in this chapter, I'm sure you'll get it, sooner or later. Right now, the survivor's are in the 'shock and disbelief' stage.
I was seriously stressing over Daryl's POV in this chapter. Like, chewing all my nails off and spending hours writing the same damn paragraph over and over again type stressing. But then one of my lovely reviewers, sillygabby, gave me a bit of her wisdom. She told me that she supposed Daryl could be read as OOC if we're following cannon guidelines, but my story isn't cannon. I'm not Robert Kirkman, and Daryl is not my original character. That's the joy of fanfiction; you get to take other people's toys and play with them, make them do what you want them to do. Obviously I'm going to keep him as in character as I can but I'm not going to stress until I give myself ulcers about if he seems 'too OOC' anymore. I hope that you enjoy my interpretation of him and if not, I'm sorry. Nothing I can do about it.
As always, thank you for reading. I would love to hear your feedback!
I'll see all of you next week~~!