Note: AMC writers, you are bastards, and stupid ones at that.
Killing Merle? Merle?! Seriously, I can't even… it didn't even make any sense, that's what annoys me! Why would they suddenly believe the Governor? Why do they all know Rick's going to do yet another half arsed job but not say "Rick, I call bullshit, I'm not even getting out of this chair, because you're just not going to go through with it"? And what the hell is Daryl tracking?! Rick knows they're meeting at the grain depot, Merle knows they're meeting at the grain depot (despite Rick not telling him), the Governor knows they're meeting at the grain depot, I bloody know they're meeting at the grain depot, but apparently Daryl needs to breakout the badass tracking skills whereof no man of woman born may match him. How many roads from a prison to a grain depot are there? Do the prison authorities need instant access to grain at wholesale prices in case a riot breaks out? Is the need so desperate they need back up routes? No. Of course not. That's fucking stupid. Like the last two episodes.
I hate you AMC writers. I hate that I care more about your work than you apparently do. You suck.
Chapter Fourteen
Ohmyfuckinggodohmyfuckinggod…
After the last few weeks, Kate thought she'd had enough opportunities to develop a good idea of what real fear felt like. There had been the airport, of course, or running across the rooftop towards a pack of zombies to help Merle; they'd offered pretty good occasions on which to reach the limits of terror. However, worse had been those truly dreadful moments in the dark where, on letting go of Merle's large, warm hand as she hit the floor, she had never felt more vulnerable and alone.
Even the voice of Shereen was silent, and that was never a good sign.
In nearly pitch black conditions, with her unprotected legs surrounded by a sea of what she really hoped were fully dead corpses, she had felt sick with fear as she tried to sneak up behind the small horde of scrabbling, snarling undead. Vaguely she could hear Merle's banging and occasional shouting above the din; she hoped it was enough. Kate paused in the room that led on to the one containing the hungry throng. She suspected, correctly as it turned out, that the door they had broken through while she and Merle escaped would be too damaged to hold them, and had planned to close the door of the room leading to that one. The door she was standing by, in fact.
Of course, this room would be the one to have three doors rather than two.
Fuck!
One was the door they had partly destroyed, and one was the door she stood at now; it was the most direct way back to the front of the store. The other, further entrance must lead through to the corridor, where without too much difficulty they could probably work their way back out the front again, or block their route if they needed to get back to the roof. She would have to close both, and that meant getting far too close to the crowd for her liking.
Fuck. Fuckkity fuck fuck! Okay, breathe... quietly! But just breathe…
As softly and as quickly as she could, she crept forward and reached for the open door's handle. To ensure she pulled it back carefully and silently, without knocking the doorframe, she had had to turn her back on the open doorway of zombies, something which stretched her already taut nerves to breaking point. Still, it had to be done… trembling, she reached out and tugged the door towards the frame, desperately resisting the urge to look over her shoulder.
When it was close enough to the door and the time had come to turn the handle, even Kate's nerves failed. She found she just couldn't not face the zombies; if the damn thing squeaked, she at least wanted to give herself some kind of head start. Placing her fingertips against the frame to cushion the door it as she pulled it to, she turned and watched them carefully as she slowly, oh so slowly, pushed down on the handle. It gave way beneath her hand without a sound, and with a palpable sense of relief she turned back and closed it as gently as she could.
Then, trying to keep one eye on the ragged mob that anxiously moaned and grasped for a safely out of reach Merle … the lucky bastard… she made her way back to the other door. She tried as best she could to check it before she went through, in case some straggler had come to join its brethren, but it was nearly impossible. Seeing nothing, she nipped through and turned to reach in for the door. Just as she grasped the handle, an emaciated frame on the edge of the excited pack drew her eye merely by the fact that, unlike the seething mass behind it, the thing had stopped reaching and was now standing still.
Perhaps it had heard something, or perhaps it had caught her scent… but for whatever reason its head started, ever so slowly, to turn…
Oh no… no no please…
As fast as she dared Kate whipped the door to within a fraction of being closed; she dared not risk the handle and the click of the door into the frame if this one had already sensed her. Holding her breath, she listened hard, her ear pressed against the cold surface of the door. Perhaps she was wrong? It was a thick fire door, and for a moment she felt hope as she heard nothing, but then to her horror she thought she could make out lumbering footsteps…
Fuck…
… only one set of footsteps though… perhaps…
Thinking quickly, she risked grabbing one of the nearby corpses and tipped it over quietly onto the floor in front of the door. Then she backed up and pulled out a knife. If Kate was incredibly lucky, its decayed flesh would mask the scent of her own and the creature wouldn't even try to get through the door. If she was unlucky he'd a least stumble over the body, buying her time to stab him in the head before the other zombie's noticed.
If she was very unlucky… well, it was best not to think about that.
She heard shuffling, and the rustling sound of fabric and desiccated flesh brushing the door. Her heart stopped when the zombie's own exploration knocked the door closed with a soft but decidedly audible click.
Oh shit…
Kate forced herself to stand her ground for a moment, though her nerves screamed at her to run.
Then she waited a bit longer.
After a minute, she finally mustered the courage to approach the door, and cautiously placed her ear against it. She could hear nothing but the yowling of the zombies and the muffled thump of Merle's boots. She gave it a little longer, before deciding she had just had a very narrow escape. She wasn't sure her nerves could take another one, and it was that thought which decided her.
…
Working her way around all the rooms as stealthily as she could, knife still held in her increasingly damp palm, she silently closed all the doors to the rooms and corridor except those that created a straight path back up to the roof; now if they needed it as a last resort, there was a clear, fairly straight run back. She knew she couldn't wander through the dark like this again, never knowing what was around the corner or where she was running to.
It only took a few minutes, but to her the whole thing felt like hours, and her muscles ached from tension. As she finally stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up into the patch of sunlight at the top and feeling the fresh breeze on her, she thought about walking away.
She could go. There was nothing stopping her.
A sprint up the stairs, another jump she now knew she could make, and she could hole up in a secure building until it was time to move on… it was tempting…
… and yet…
… it would mean abandoning Merle, and she wouldn't, couldn't do that. Yes, he was a bit of dick, with his sleazy comments and his fondling. But on the other hand, he had helped her, saved her. It wouldn't be right…
Oh my God, you're so full of shit.
Oh, now you turn up!
Yes, but only because I can't bear to hear such crap. You won't leave him because you like him, plain and simple. You even kissed him!
Okay, first of all, fuck off, he kissed me. Second of all, I already admitted I like him. Thirdly, people who abandon me in the dark have no right to comment on what I choose to do in it.
Ooh touchy…
Look, he's already saved my life twice. I've even saved his, which is… well, kind of incredible and awesome. We're better off together.
I didn't say you weren't but I keep telling you, this world is life or death now and your eyes need to be open. Don't convince yourself you're staying for survival if you're really just staying for him. If you start fooling yourself as to why you do or don't do things, then you'll only mess up your head and something will happen that will get us both killed.
Why can't it be both? And given I've apparently personified my super-ego as my recently deceased friend, I think my head is already pretty messed up at this point. Oh, and did I mention you're already dead?
Picky picky…
Shereen was right though. Although Kate definitely thought sticking together made better survival sense than being apart, like any typical 'bad boy' Merle definitely had considerable charm, and sadly she wasn't immune. Plus he was funny and smart and his muscular physicality was definitely appealing to her. However, she'd have to guard herself against him, since he was also selfish, hot tempered and sleazy, which was definitely not good…
Oh totally. When he attempted to 'pull' you along the vent using your arse, I so remember you complaining. Honestly, Andrea Dworkin would have been proud.
I still say it's possible he could genuinely have been…
Or when he kissed you…
Oh, the kiss…
Oh God, here she goes…
No but… you know, it was… good. Surprisingly good, really…
She remembered his warm body against hers, heavy and hard with muscle, while the rough scratch of his jaw had concealed soft lips and a liquid, teasing tongue.
… mmm, yeah… I mean, it wasn't very comfortable in that vent, and then Merle went and leaned on a tit which he'd already elbowed the life out of before I smashed it into a wall, but you know, that aside…
You're rambling. And yes… since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate…
Hmm? What the… good God! Are you quoting Princess Bride at me?!
Sorry, but I can only listen to so much schoolgirl mooning over a bloody kiss. Come back to me when you've got bent over a table and taken hard and fast…
Shereen!
… then I'll give you my opinion.
Oh my God…
Ooh… though for the record, providing it's safe I don't mind if you use him for sex. Just don't let him use you for sex.
What the… isn't that the same?
Oh dear, Kate, still so innocent…
Dammit Shereen… Kate sighed… I do miss you.
… Course you do. I was fucking awesome. By the way, there's a zombie behind you…
Kate turned instantly, knife at the ready… to find nothing.
… psych, said Shereen smugly.
Jesus wept, I take it all back.
Sorry, but you needed something to snap out of this and get back to loverboy, replied Shereen, drawing out the last word as a playground taunt.
Fine, Kate thought as she began to make her way back towards the storefront, but anyone less like a loverboy I cannot imagine…
…
Now, all that lonely time in the dark was nothing.
Ohmyfuckinggodohmyfuckinggod…
Kate was so surprised she had frozen more in shock than fear when the priest had pointed his gun at her, but when Merle abruptly knocked him flying over the counter to be shortly followed by a gunshot, Kate's brain switched to full on blind panic mode as she rushed round the end of the display. She'd no idea what she would find, but anything was preferable to the bleeding body of Merle.
Instead she'd seen Merle push himself unsteadily up off the very dead body of the priest, once again apparently unharmed but looking slightly stunned that he had narrowly escaped death for a second time that day.
Kate wasn't even sure what she was saying as she flung herself down to kneel on the chest of the sprawled corpse. The additional height meant that as she hugged him tightly Merle's head was rather awkwardly crushed into her chest, but she didn't care right now.
He's alive. Thank fuck, not dead, not dead…
Sooo… is it me, or did that situation deteriorate rather quickly…?
Hmm? Kate responded inside her head, drifting slightly on the downrush of adrenaline and the feel of warm, solid and most importantly living man in her arms…
Bloody hell, you're no good in a crisis! Stop smothering the poor sod and let him breathe, honestly!… and maybe actually check him for injuries…?
Thinking this was probably a good idea, particularly since he hadn't said anything, Kate pulled away and slipped her hands beneath the leather waistcoat, running them over his torso in a manner that might have looked more professional if she hadn't seemed to repeatedly return to his already checked and distractingly rock-hard chest. He still hadn't said anything though, which was worrying. Perhaps he'd been hit in the head?
She stroked his face, trying to get him to focus on her instead of apparently staring down at the priest. "Merle, please speak to me! Are you okay?!" On hearing her voice Merle seemed to come back to himself slightly, his gaze flickering a little before he wiped his nose and face on the back of his hand.
"Shit…," he said dismissively, looking down at the priest, "bet Jesus don't want me fer a sunbeam now…"
…
The relief when he apparently revealed himself to be okay was intense, and she couldn't stop herself hugging him again, even going so far as to plant a rather awkward and decidedly unsexy kiss right on his ear. Frankly, today was all getting to be a bit much…
Aww, diddums…
Shut up. I've had a hard day.
You don't know what a hard day is! Merle's had worse and he's sick and short-handed, if you'll forgive another pun…
Eventually Kate released Merle and was slightly concerned to find him still staring down, although a little more fixedly now. Worry began to turn to suspicion in her mind.
"Merle, are you actually in shock or are you just staring at my tits?"
"Why can't it be both?" asked a suddenly grinning Merle and a mocking Shereen in harmony.
Don't you dare start synching up with Merle, Shereen, I mean it…
Ha! I promise nothing.
Kate shook her head, and looked down at the body of the priest as she finally stood. He couldn't be more dead, and she fought the urge to throw up. The bullet had gone in through his lower jaw and up, taking off the top of his skull and sending pink wobbly mess all over the wall. It was disgusting, and she'd rather it hadn't happened, but... the guy was a prick.
"See, this is why I'm not religious. All these thousands of years of thought about why are we here, what does it mean, does right thought lead to right action, and ultimately it always comes down to killing each other over a bit of consensual buggery. Madness!"
Merle looked at her strangely as he stood up. "Ya ain't religious at all?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Atheist."
Merle nodded, then tried again. "But ya believe in heaven, right?" Kate had actually encountered this attitude before in a lot of places, so she was used to clarifying it.
"Sorry. No God, no Devil, no heaven and hell. Just here and now, and then you're dead and gone. Well… not so much lately, but you know what I mean…"
Merle was frowning, but he didn't seem inclined to say more, so Kate decided to try and assess the situation. Fortunately, either there were no zombies in the vicinity or being in the shop had muffled the shot, as there was nothing pounding on the shutters. However, they still needed to pick up the guns Merle wanted and get out, and he looked quite pale. Plus, there were a lot of guns…
Kate looked around her; she had never seen so many guns, it was like something out of a film. The walls were lined with racks of what she assumed were rifles of some description, while on the wall handguns were pinned up on display. The counter itself was full of boxes with suitably macho American symbols on… an aggressive looking eagle… a wolf… a cowboy… guessing that's ammunition?
She turned round had to grin at Merle, who looked like a kid in a candy store, his eyes lingering over a couple of… army guns? Sub machine guns? They didn't look like rifles, frankly to Kate they looked like something to be bought by men who were very insecure in themselves…
Bet Merle doesn't need to compensate for anything…
Deciding she would have to be her own better half on this occasion, she noted that in addition to looking increasingly pasty, Merle was trying to conceal that he was supporting himself with his hand on the counter. She knew if she asked him if he was alright, he'd either deny it or more likely react aggressively. Hmm, tactics, tactics…
"Okay Merle, I think you and me need to make a decision," she said authoritatively, and Merle eyes snapped to hers, already looking more alert.
"It seems to me that we have two priorities right now; finding a way back and taking these guns with us; do you agree?" Merle nodded slowly, and she couldn't help feeling that the little curl at the corner of his mouth meant he was humouring her, and he actually found her attempt to be commanding and decisive rather amusing. "Okay, cool."
Oh yes, say 'cool' to show how in charge you are. I bet Ulysses S. Grant always responded to battlefield dispatches with 'cool.' Or maybe 'groovy.'
Kate nobly ignored this taunt. "So, my thinking is that we first make sure of our exit and get the ladder back, then we sort out the guns. Ooh, I should also mention that in the event of disaster, I've shut all the doors in the shop we came through, except those that give us a straight run through to the roof." At that, Merle's curl became a definitely smile, and she would like to think there was a little glint of respect in his eyes now.
That thought was sadly short lived.
"Alrigh' darlin', here's wha' we're gonna do. Ya go sort out tha ladder, an' I'll sort out tha weaponry."
Oh no, macho alert.
"Are you absolutely sure, Merle? I mean, not to be a third wheel when you're clearly eager to be alone with the ones you love," she said, grinning at the array of guns behind him, "but given what happened last time we split up, and the potential need for us to get out of here fast…"
"Fine, fine, quit yer bitchin', woman," he said irritated, "I'll come wit' ya jus' ta check it out, then yer on ya own. Ya go look, check if ya can see anythin' through tha window, an' I'll follow in a sec wit' a gun, okay?"
Kate capitulated… nicely; she didn't want to argue with him when he looked so ill… well, ill for what she assumed Merle normally looked like. She suspected he didn't normally tolerate anything but rude good health. "Thanks Merle, I'd feel safer with you there." Merle looked at her like he was suspicious she was taking the piss, but she held his gaze until he shrugged it off.
"G'on then, don't be waitin' on me. Gotta pick myself out a sweet piece…"
Kate left him to drool over his guns and cracked the door a little to look outside. She could see nothing but, edging out, she was careful to leave the door slightly open. She considered herself a feminist, but sometimes it's nice to know that a heavily armed and extremely tough man will come running if you scream. She made her way carefully to the corner store, which she guessed was in about the right position to have the ladder leaning on one of its window ledges. She looked at the signage, and couldn't believe it.
Oh no, really, come on now…
Oh ho! Merle is going to eat you alive…
Well, he won't be the first man today to try.
Kate jogged over and peered in the window but could see nothing. She tapped on the glass, gently at first then harder. Nothing. She took out one of her knives and tried to jimmy the lock the way she'd seen Merle do, but there was clearly more knack to it than at first glance. Defeated by a door at last, Kate turned and made her quietly way back to the gun shop, still nervous of drawing attention.
Walking to the door, she was shocked to see Merle slumped on the floor, back propped against the counter, rubbing his hand tiredly over his face.
Conscious of an urge to help him, but also aware it wouldn't be appreciated in the slightest, Kate silently backed up before approaching the door again, this time scuffing her boots on the floor and giving a loud sniff. Now when she stood in the doorway, Merle was standing nonchalantly by the counter, feeling the weight of a handgun in his palm.
"Browning Hi-Power," he said shortly, "sturdy, reliable. Take it, I'll stick wit' tha Beretta." Kate took it cautiously.
"Thanks. Umm… which bit is the safety again?" Merle gave a deep sigh and showed her, and watched in disbelief as she stuck deep it in her jacket pocket.
"Damn woman, ya ain't gonna be able ta get ta it quickly in there!"
"Well, I can't stick it in my belt like you, can I?" gesturing towards her knickers, and regretting the gesture in the same instant as Merle ran greedy eyes over her. "Behave," she warned, repressing a smile.
Merle grunted, then went and searched behind the counter, returning after a while with a gun belt. "Here ya go," he said as he gave it to her, and watched with a critical eye as she put it on to her satisfaction. Unfortunately, her satisfaction was apparently not a consideration, as he then reached out an adjusted it so it sat slightly lower on her hip before nodding. "Le's go."
They marched outside, perhaps a little more confident in each others company. Kate kept an eye on him for fear his renewed strength was a front. Merle meanwhile had his eyes scoping the area for potential threats, which seemed sensible. When they arrived at the shop, Kate said awkwardly, "I'm afraid I don't have your way with a lock. I tried to jimmy it but…" She let the sentence trail away as Merle finally looked round and took in the shop for the first time. A large grin began to spread across his face, and he turned wicked eyes to her.
"This is tha place?" Kate nodded, trying not to give anything away, and Merle gave one of his low humming chuckles. Although he said nothing further, Kate felt he was saving it all for when they got inside.
Oh Victoria, she thought, why couldn't you keep your secrets to yourself?
…
It took Merle a grand total of ten seconds from entering the shop to picking out a particularly racy outfit he'd like to see her in. "Hey woman, how's 'bout this?"
Kate considered the red lace number, what little there was of it, then shook her head. "Hmm… not with your fair colouring. Try something blue, it'll bring out your eyes. I suggest periwinkle," and with that and his angry growl echoing in her ears, she was off into the storage rooms at the back.
Fortunately it was a small store, and aside from a small changing room there was only a stock cupboard and a staff room. The staff room was fairly bright and as she made it to the window, she sighed with relief to see the ladder perched on the windowsill. "Merle!" she called as loudly as she dared, "could you come and help me? I've got the ladder!"
Merle ambled through, and shot her a narrow look before approaching the window. He waited while Kate carefully released and lifted the sash, worried any movement could dislodge the ladder from the lip of the sill. Once the window was secured, they both reached out and tugged at the thing, trying not to let its weight crash down into the alley below. Eventually they managed to pull the whole frame inside, and with minimal noise. Merle ducked and looked out the window.
"Hmm… could put tha ladder 'cross here; window frame would prevent some movement as we went across. But it'd mean smashin' a window on tha other side."
"Well, aside from the noise, that's the floor that we sleep on. They'll be a big draft through a broken window."
"I's fuckin' summer, woman!"
"It's fucking summer now…" said Kate with a wry laugh.
"Huh. Well, can we get tha ladder through tha run ya made in tha other store?"
"We could, probably…," said Kate cautiously, "but we be going past that room full of zombies, and it's still dark in there. We'd have to be very careful where we step with all those corpses, and while carrying a heavy ladder."
"Best ta smash tha window an' get across here then. Got less far ta carry tha guns too."
Poor sod probably feels too sick to want to carry the guns further than he has to, Shereen pointed out, not that he's going to say that, of course.
"Alright then," agreed Kate, and they began to angle the ladder, though she gave him a playful nudge as she added, "although I can't help remembering that my bed is closest to the window, isn't it?"
"It is?" replied Merle, with an innocence that didn't suit him at all, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "well, guess if ya get cold an' lonesome yer gonna have ta come an' share my bed." Kate did her best not to shiver, and he pulled back and waggled his eyebrows suggestively before a look of annoyance crossed his face, "Aw shit…"
"What?"
"Forgot where I put that lil' red number."
"Little being the operative word; I don't think I'd wear that if I was cold enough to consider sleeping in your bed."
"Well, s'pose I wouldn't have ya wearin' it fer long, no."
"I meant I wouldn't be wearing it at all…"
"Even better!"
Kate bit her lip in an attempt no to laugh, but his smirk was too much. "Oh, just… nevermind!"
…
After that things went surprisingly well. The ladder went across easily, and they managed to pick a moment when there were only two zombies in the alley to smash the window. While Kate went back for the bags of food they had abandoned in the front of the store, Merle picked up enough guns to mount a small Central American revolution, as she jokingly pointed out to Merle.
Merle, eyes bright with fever and gun-lust, laughed with her. "This? This place ain't nothin'. It ain't no store, i's a fuckin' hobby!"
Kate went and picked up some of the last bags over by one of the doors at the rear of the shop. They were heavy duty metal security doors, and when attempts to find the keys had failed Merle had decided he wasn't going to risk breaking one of his knives to open it; they already had all the guns they needed, he said.
Kate bent down to pick up the bag, and it was in this vulnerable position that she heard a rasp of metal and a creak behind her. It was only the fact that Merle was already approaching with his gun drawn that stopped her from collapsing with nerves completely.
"Hi," said a hard southern voice, "I'm unarmed, an' I'm not bit."
…
A minute later Kate was standing next to Merle staring at the girl who had emerged from the stockroom. She was dressed in a denim shorts and a dirty long-sleeved t-shirt that said 'Welcome to Atlanta,' clutching a small rucksack, and Kate was ashamed to say she'd taken an almost instant dislike to her. It wasn't her clothes so much as her face, which made her feel just as bad. It was shifty, she thought, her flat brown eyes constantly moving, her skin pale and poor with acne and her frame rather emaciated.
Don't be so bloody middle class, chided Shereen.
Feeling guilty, Kate tried to be polite to her. "Hello, are you alright? Who are you, and why were you in the cupboard?"
The girl turned those flat brown eyes on her. "Father Ray said it was the end of the world. He was tryin' ta save me." Kate tried not to think about how Father Ray would not be saving anyone now, unless they needed to distract some zombies while making a getaway.
Ooh, save that idea, you made need it.
Jesus, you need help! Oh bloody hell, that means I need help…!
"Right… umm, I'm afraid Father Ray had a bit of an accident…"
"Yer shot him, I heard," she said dispassionately, "but I don't care much, I didn't wanna be saved like that." That sounded rather dubious; Kate tried not to think about what it might mean.
"Oh dear... well, we could try to help you if you like," she ventured, ignoring the holes Merle's eyes were suddenly were boring into her, but what did he expect when he left the whole burden of the conversation up to her?
"Help me?" the girl scoffed, encompassing them in a dismissive glance. "You ain't even got no pants! An' you ain't got no hand." Her eyes narrowed, "Hey! What's that on your stump? Them bandages look like…."
"Sorry, what was your name?" Kate immediately parried, but too late. She chanced a glance up at Merle's thunderous face, and knew she was in for retribution at some point.
"Shawnee."
Is that a real name?
I must assume so, since it's attached to a real person.
"That's nice, this is Merle…" Kate began, but Merle had apparently got tired of being a social butterfly, and interrupted.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, looking hard at Shawnee, "I'm Merle, she's too goddamn nice, an' you're fuckin' grateful. Le's get movin'."
"I promise you, Shawnee, Merle really does grow on you. He can be very charming when he wants." She didn't dare look up to see his reaction to that, but instead pressed against Merle's side a little, and gently slipped her hand around his stump as she said with emphasis, "My name is Kate."
She looked up just in time to see Merle glancing quickly down with an undecipherable look in his eye before he looked away again.
"Tha's right, Merle an' Katie, zombie fuckin' rescue service," he said, and Kate noticed he seemed to be suppressing an odd air of excitement, "now let's get tha fuck outta here!"
…
Apologies for the long delay, I've been swamped at work. I'm just off on a little holiday now so it would be lovely if I came back to some reviews. Again, thanks to everyone who has favourited, followed and reviewed.
Those of you who have been awaiting the next chapter of In His Own Image and an epilogue to Shame, you are in luck; next week I will update.