Day 83
Sand was in everything. The cars, her shoes, the creases on the cuffs of her jeans. Every time she wiggled her toes, she felt gritty. Beth felt like the sand somehow even managed to find its way into everything she ate. She also had an angry red sunburn on all the parts of her body that had not seen the light of day for a while. The worst was her thighs and hips. Along the lines where her bathing suit met her legs, her skin was raw and she could tell it was going to peel. Her jeans were so rough against her skin she had finally taken them off and put on some silly dress that one of the girls had found in the same seaside shop where they found the bikinis. Crystal had been the only one brave enough to go skinny dipping with so many men around.
"What the hell you got on?," Daryl asked her, poking his head inside the van now that they had stopped for a break.
"A dress," Beth informed him, "you know girls wear them sometimes." He raised his eyebrow at her. So she lifted the dress up, giving him a good look at her sunburn and the skimpy white panties she had on. "My jeans were rubbing me raw," she admitted. Without a word, he disappeared from view, returning a few minutes later with a mug full of something that he was mixing with a popsicle stick. Pointing at her, he gestured for her to lift up her dress again. Beth shrugged and pulled it up. She was past the point of caring who saw her in her underpants. Plus the little bit of breeze that was blowing in throught the open door of the van felt good against her scorching skin anyway.
"What is that?," Beth asked. Her tone implied that she didn't much care what it was. She would let someone slather dog shit on her if she thought it might help relieve the constant stinging pain.
"Cornstarch and water." She shrugged and gave a little hmph noise, letting him know she was only mildly impressed.
He knelt down, trying to use the popsicle stick so he wouldn't actually have to put his hands on her skin. But the stick wasn't scooping the thick liquid up, it was just dribbling back off into the cup. Daryl knelt down closer, trying to look at the burn and not at her crotch or the very small pair of panties she had on. Or the lace trim around the edges of them. He held the cup close and scooped out some of the mixture with two of his fingers, wiping it onto the tops of her thighs and carefully coating the areas where her skin was the reddest. He nudged her to roll on her side and then he rubbed it across the curve on the bottom of her backside. She let out a little moan and he felt his dick move inside his pants. He only wanted to help with her sunburn, he reminded himself.
"That feels so much better," she said. She was more than eager to roll over so he could get the other side. Then she sat up and took the cup, spreading a little around on the red area between her breasts. She gave him a big smile, her even white teeth biting down just a tiny bit on her lower lip.
"Let that dry," Daryl told her, suddenly feeling stiff and awkward. Beth nodded and handed the cup back to him. Crystal had been watching the scene wiht a sarcastic little smile on her face. She crawled over from her regular napping area.
"I got a burn too," she told Daryl. Then she pulled her tube top down to reveal her bare breasts, which were looking a little sunburnt, especially on the sides. "Want to lube me up?" Daryl scrunched up his face. He shoved the mug at her.
"I think you can reach those yourself," he informed her before scrambling out of the van. Her laughter was ringing after him.
"He acts like he's never seen a pair of tits before," Crystal announced.
"He would be the only man alive that ain't seen yours yet," Lauren told her. Beth and the other girls laughed. Crystal rolled her eyes at them. But the comment did seem to shut Crystal up. At least for now. She smeared some of the thin white paste on her breasts and then laid down to take another nap.
Daryl walked back to his bike and lit a smoke, trying to get the image of Beth lying spread eagle on the mattress in front of him out of his head. Since Neegan had been sleeping in the girl's van, Beth had started sleeping in one of the other vans with him, Mike and Tara. She had never mentioned anything about trying to kiss him that night on the porch, and he was afraid to bring it up. He didn't want her to stop speaking to him again.
Daryl finished his smoke and pitched the butt with a flick of his fingers. He looked up, shading his eyes. Neegan was on top of the semi cab with a pair of binoculars. He was slowly turning around in a circle. Looking for the same thing he always looked for now. People. Sometimes it was people to recruit, but most of the time he was looking for people to rob. It wasn't the most honorable way to survive, but it was keeping them alive and fed.
Daryl's brother taught him at a young age that it was better to steal than it was to starve. And Daryl still remembered the first thing he ever stole. His dad had spent whatever grocery money they had on booze and who knows what else. Maybe whores. And Daryl was hungry. Merle had taken him out fishing, but that had been a bust. On the way back, they cut through the neighbor's backyards. And that's when he had seen it. A lady had a whole pie cooling on her kitchen window sill. Daryl could still remember the smell of it. And how it had made his mouth immediately start watering.
They could hear the woman who must have made the pie in the kitchen, washing up her dishes. Merle walked around the front of the house and did what he called nigger knocking. This meant he pounded hard on the door and then ran away before anyone opened it. As soon as the woman left the kitchen and started walkind towards the front door, Daryl leaped up on the overturned garbage can and grabbed the pie. It was hot, and he almost dropped it. Merle pulled his shirt off and used it like a potholder to carry the steaming pastry. Then they ran home with it. Waiting for it to cool down was the hardest part. Once it wasn't mouth burning anymore, they leaned over the counter and ate the whole thing right out of the dish. All except one piece that Merle took into the bedroom and made their mother eat. Daryl couldn't remember if she had been in bed because his father beat her again, or because she was just that drunk. Maybe a little bit of both.
Stealing from these other camps was no different than taking that pie. They did what they had to do to survive. And Daryl would rather rob a hundred camps than have to watch Beth go to bed hungry. Neegan motioned for Daryl to climb up onto the cab of the truck with him. He handed Daryl the binoculars. But Daryl didn't need them. He could already see the small wisps of smoke rising into the morning air. They were white, which meant the fire was still burning.
