"Merle?" I blurt out. Everyone else is casting weary gazes at each other. Glenn looks like he wants to snap a few necks, and Maggie is clenching the edge of the table, half angry half scared. But why am I the only one questioning this? They look uneasy, not surprised.
"But.. But Merle's dead!" Daryl shoots me a "be quiet" look, and I snap my mouth shut. I'm on the edge of my seat now, flickering my eyes back in forth, trying to take in everything at once.
"Daryl, the last time we saw Merle was when we broke him out of Woodbury. The governor must've never told him where we are, because we haven't seen him since that herd separated us."
"I know. That don't mean he's not still alive."
"You been tellin everyone he's dead and now you suddenly think he's alive?" Daryl grows more agitated.
"Rick, Andy saw him!"
"She saw a man with metal around his arm, and ya know what? He went the other way. Disappeared. You really wanna leave your group to go on a wild goose chase?"
"Pfft. This is Merle, Rick. I gotta go after him. Look at it however you want, I'm leavin today. I'll come back, I'm not abandonin y'all, but I gotta find Merle." Daryl exits the room in a rush, and we sit here, in shock. Well, I'm in shock at least. The others start talking about ways to convince him to stay, to rethink things through logically, but it won't do any good.
"You can't stop him," I find myself saying. Every voice stops and their eyes turn to me. "You guys should know that by now. I've known him, what, three months? It's Merle. And besides, with his mind set on going as it was now, he won't back down."
"What should we do?" Glenn questions. I shrug, surprised he's turning to me for answer, and think for a moment.
"Look, his mind is made up. The only thing we can do - the only thing we should do - is help him. He's one of our own, looking for his brother. We owe him that much."
"How?" I turn to Rick as I answer, my eyes and voice firm.
"I'm going with him."
{o0o}
I'm in my cell, packing my bags. Michonne heard the news - she has a way of finding things out - and she came to see me off. She's quiet, though, absorbed in her thoughts. So, seizing the opportunity, I do the same.
It was quiet after I announced my plans. Carol looked angry - like she couldn't stomach the idea of the two of us out there, alone. Rick looked like he was going to have a seizure.
"I can't send my two run leaders out on mission impossible!"
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, "but it's not up to you. Last I checked, this wasn't a prison camp. Well, you know what I mean. I can leave if I want to."
"So you're just gonna run off when we need you?" He said accusingly. I narrowed my eyes at that.
"It's not like that and you know it. You can get by without me. Michonne is more than capable. So's Glenn. Think about it like an extended mission. We'll be gone a few days, maybe a week or two, find Merle, and I'll make sure we get back safely."
"Andy," Rick said as if in pain.
"I'm not doing this to spite you. It's necessary. D'you really want Daryl out there - alone?"
"I think she should go," Sasha cut in. I like her - she's very objective and realistic. "She's great with weapons and survival stuff. And she's probably the only one Daryl would be willing to put up with."
"I could go," Carol scoffed. I barely concealed my sudden amusement.
"No offense, but I think I'd be of better help," I said plainly, a subtle malice under the carefully constructed, fake kindness. My lips twitched slightly when I saw she had picked up on it - and that she was the only one.
"Andy should go," Sasha pressed on. Tyreese agreed, and soon Glenn and Hershel were nodding, too.
"Then it's decided," I announced, standing. Rick looked like he was about to protest.
"No it's n-"
"Majority," I reminded him with more sass than necessary. I told myself I'd apologize later. He snapped his mouth shut and looked frustrated. Michonne told me he was the leader before, demanding total control, and having less say in decisions was sometimes frustrating for him. But he liked the less responsibility enough to compensate.
"I'll pack the supplies I came here with, some food and water, and the two of us can head out tonight."
"You aren't heading out tonight," Rick said firmly. "Have one last night sleeping safely, at least. You guys can head out tomorrow. You'll have a full day to look before it gets dark." I smiled; it was nice to have someone care for me so much.
"I'll go pack." The others nodded, and I left the room.
"Done," I say, ending the silence that has settled over my cell. My backpack is packed with my water purifier, basic first aid, gloves, matches, wire, two sets of clothes, and a few other survival tools. My throwing knife is on my side table, waiting to be held in my hunting jacket pocket once I'm dressed. My pistol will be kept in its leg holster, my knife attached to my belt, and my quiver and rifle over my shoulder like always.
"Let's get dinner," Michonne mutters, leaving me following her to the courtyard in silence. I know her well enough to know she's upset. And it's not too hard to understand it's because I'm leaving. There's nothing else going on here right now. The rest of the prison doesn't know about the trip yet - Daryl doesn't even know I'm going with him yet. He was convinced to wait for tomorrow, though, and I figure I can just tell him tonight.
Dinner passes quickly. It's quiet for the most part. Daryl and I leaving is on everyone's minds. Daryl and I are nonchalant about the trip tomorrow, granted he doesn't know about my involvement yet, but he never talks much, and I'm not in the mood. Everyone else's mood has an effect on me.
That night I don't hesitate before getting ready for bed and heading straight to Daryl's room. After a night with no nightmares - the first since the incident - how could I even consider giving that up? I'm wearing my t shirt and jeans, carrying my bra and shoes.
Daryl's light is off this time. It takes me a moment to navigate across the room to his bed, where he's already lying down. I strip my jeans and peer over him.
"Daryl?" I whisper.
"M'awake." He scoots over to the edge of the bed and throws back to covers, giving me room to climb in. Settled down, with his arm around my waist, I give a little sigh of contentment. My eyelids flutter shut when I remember what I was supposed to tell him.
"Daryl?"
"Mmm."
"I'm coming with you tomorrow." He tenses.
"No."
"Yes. It's already decided."
"It's too dangerous," he growls.
"Oh come on. I can handle myself perfectly fine and you know it. You're the one who needs help - d'you really think I'd let you go alone?"
"I can handle myself," he grumbles petulantly. I smirk briefly, then let out a huge yawn.
"Look, I'm tired. You're not talking me out of it, so there." I grab his hand from where it's resting on my abdomen and pull it up, hugging it to myself. This brings me closer to Daryl. Warm and secure, I fall asleep within seconds.
{o0o}
I'm sitting in the courtyard, eating a substantial breakfast of eggs, sausage, and potatoes. Carol, who cooked today, saw fit to send Daryl and me off with lasting strength. Well, she wanted to send Daryl off that way, but she couldn't serve him and not me. I swallow my last bite of potato with satisfaction before whisking away to the bathroom. I leave my bag at the table. I'm already dressed and decked out with my weapons, save my rifle which I'll put on later. In the bathroom, I use these last few moments to wash my face with the cool, refreshing water, and brush my teeth until they're minty and crisp. My hair is its usual billowing self, so I secure it in a ponytail, where it'll be out of my way. I'm wearing my jacket, boots, cargo pants, and a tight gray t shirt - time to go do battle. Well, more like search for a missing person. Same difference.
Back at the courtyard I hoist my backpack over my back and connect the strap around my waist. After much consideration, Daryl and I decided to go without a car. We obviously can't take one in the woods, which is where most of our searching will take place. To make up for it, my old backpack was replaced with a hiker pack. This one has a bed roll attached to the top and plenty of space for clothing, supplies, and some food and water. This means I have to have my rifle in a hip holster. Now, my pistol is on my left hip, my rifle on my right, my knife on my leg, my throwing knife in my pocket, my bow in hand, and my quiver, in a stroke of Daryl's genius, is connected to my bag so it rests on my right shoulder like usual. My guns are fully loaded, and I have plenty of ammo in my bag. Daryl is similarly outfitted. We need weapons for a trip like that we're embarking on.
A large group comes to see us off as the sky fills with bright mid morning light. I hug Ariana tightly, and each of her friends as well. We may not be the best of friends, but at this point, what's the difference?
When I get to Michonne, we exchange a significant look before embracing briefly. We said our goodbyes already. Nothing too serious, though, because I'm coming back, after all. I hug the Council members as well, especially Rick. He's like a father figure to me, now, and I get the feeling I'm like an adult daughter of his. His jaw is clenched unhappily, even as Daryl and I finish our goodbyes and meet up at the back gates. Glenn and some others start beating poles and planks on the fences fifty yards away, drawing all the walkers in the vicinity towards them. Before we miss our chance, Daryl and I slip out of the gates and make a straight beeline for the forest, leaving the prison behind.
{o0o}
"This is where we fought," I say an hour later at the clearing. We've been walking at a fairly quick pace, managing to save our energy and not push ourselves too hard in the hot summer heat. Daryl and I kneel down to study the ground and its various markings. It's hard to see much of anything due to how dry it's been lately. The ground was dry when I first fought here, leaving much to be desired in the way of tracks. At least it hasn't rained since.
"Nothing," I say, standing up and spinning in a slow 360. No walkers.
"Wait. Gimme a second... Here we are." Daryl stands and starts walking northwest. I remember this is the direction Merle headed, and I study the ground intensely for signs of his passage. If I look really hard, I can see faint hints of a heel print here or an indentation there, but it's virtually undetectable.
"Impressive."
"Huh? What's that?" Daryl says distractedly, taking his attention of off the ground for a split second.
"Your tracking. I wouldn't've found this trail." Daryl shrugs.
"I been doin it longer. You're, what, twenty?" I roll my eyes.
"Twenty five. You'd know that-" Crack. A twig snaps off to the left. We simultaneously hear the growls of several walkers, and, as if we agreed to beforehand, we both dart into a copse of trees, hiding ourselves. I peer through the tightly packed branches of an evergreen and see six of the things stumble by twenty yards away. My hand is gripping Daryl's forearm anxiously as we wait with bated breath. The last one passes. When they're fifty yards away, we slowly back out of the trees, eyes darting in all directions.
"I gotta find the trail again," Daryl whispers in my ear, his breath tickling the skin. I nod and decide to nock an arrow as a precaution. After a minute of tense searching, Daryl finally sighs in relief, picking up on it once again.
{o0o}
Most of the day passes slowly and without incident. Daryl shoots a squirrel around noon which we stop to cook. We eat that throughout the day, adding a rabbit I snag later on. We have to dodge a few more walker packs, and often have to take out a few loners, but we stay safe. A few times we run into dead walkers and black goo on nearby trees and rocks, painting a vivid picture of Merle's antics.
"He doesn't give up, that's for sure," Daryl remarks. I try to make small talk as we go. It doesn't work well, but it's not a total fail. We're comfortable in silence, just as we're comfortable having conversations. We've argued often, lately, but it hasn't happened on this trip, yet.
Dusk starts to set in and there's still no sign that Merle is close to us. By now the trail has curled strictly West. Daryl decides to stop and mark the trail with some sticks and rocks so we won't lose it. He wants to set up camp right here, but I study the map a little more closely and see we're right next to a tiny town. A five minute walk North and we suddenly break free from the trees and into an old, run down town.
There's one main street branching off into a side street, lined by window shops. Jewelry, antiques, coffee, and a butcher are all found, their paint chipped signs and stained window glass adding to the run down feel. The town itself is fairly empty of walkers. I can see ten or so on this side street itself, but they pose no real threat shambling around like they are. I look to the back of a convenience store and notice a shiny yellow ladder.
"Hey." I nudge Daryl and point at it. It's an access ladder to the store's roof.
"We get there and we can sleep on the roof - geeks can't climb ladders." Daryl agrees and we rush over to the ladder, bent over in half crouches. Our gear rattles noisily, but the geeks don't notice. We make it to the ladder easily, and I start climbing feverishly, not wanting to be exposed any longer than necessary. It's a long climb to the roof, but eventually I make it.
At the top I peer over the edge anxiously, but find the roof happily empty. This old building doesn't have stairs and a door from the inside - the only way onto the roof is from the yellow ladder. I heave myself up over the ledge and drop onto dry gravel, my shoes crunching on the sand colored stones. The sun is bright up here, where nothing cuts off its light or offers shade. No matter, it'll be down soon.
Once Daryl has joined me, I detach my bedroll and roll it out. My bag rests on the ground next to it. There's not much for me to do. I eat the rest of my squirrel. Sip some water. Take off my boots and jacket. I notice Daryl hasn't relaxed.
"You can take your boots off - we're safe up here." He raises his eyes but seems to relax his rigid shoulders slightly.
"You want my clothes off?" He asks so deadpan I'd almost think he were serious. I grin and crawl over to him - three yards away - to start untying his boots. He doesn't resist, only eyes me humorously. I toss his boots back near mine recklessly.
"Hey! Be careful with those!" He protests. I laugh and shake my head.
"Nope," I tease popping my lips on the "p". Then I lean towards him, lower my face, and tilt my eyes up through my lashes daringly. "Is there a problem with that?" Daryl smirks and suddenly shoots out, pushing me back and grabbing my wrists in one motion.
"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise, before a hand clamps over my mouth. It leaves instantly, and Daryl presses his index finger to his mouth, smirking mischievously. My back is lying on the ground, my knees are bent up, and Daryl is leaning over me from the side, pinning me down. He's so playful right now, so different from how uncomfortable and awkward he usually is with me. And this is so different from when Merle pinned me down.
The thought brings me up short. Merle is Daryl's brother. But they're so different. Complete opposites. Merle's a prick, very forward, and threatening. Daryl is rough at first, but really caring, a lot quieter, and only intimidating when he needs to be. Well, I don't find him intimidating at least. Others do - I know from the way people behave around him. His thick muscles, taciturn nature, and the way he walks around radiating assurance could be scary, I suppose. Maybe they're more alike than I originally thought.
"Whatcha thinkin?" Daryl rasps, calling me back to present. I guess my face fell when I zoned out, because he looks concerned.
"Just how different you and Merle are. And how similar."
"Oh." It's quiet and I realize I've killed the mood. In an effort to lighten the sudden tension, I say,
"So you're not gonna 'beat the shit outta him' as you phrased it?" It doesn't work, and he searches my face with his eyes, before resting them on my lips.
"I should. He never shoulda done that to ya. You don't deserve it."
"I deserve a lot of things Daryl," I whisper. "I've killed people, stolen their things. Stolen things from people who've never even met me. I tell myself they didn't need them but that doesn't change the fact that they're stolen. I'm not good." He pulls me up into a sitting position, releases my wrists, and moves his hands to either side of my face, staring deeply into my eyes. I'm frozen; lost in his gaze.
"You've survived. That's all. You're still a good person." I close my eyes and shake my head forcibly.
"No. I'm not. I deserve everything that's happened to me." I keep my eyes shut. It's easier to talk to him this way than when his mesmerizing, pecular blue eyes are dazzling me.
"Stop that. I don't know what happened between you and Dean, but you can tell me. You should tell me. It's no good keepin that all locked up." So he knows there's something about Dean. Makes sense. I mean, I did tell him that we never got along. It's not hard to realize something happened; there was no other reason for me to leave my warehouse.
"I'm sorry, but for me, it is."
"It's tearing you up. You been having nightmares every night since you got here."
"Daryl," I plead, wrenching my eyes open. "We -we should go to sleep. It's dark." The sun set while we were talking. I stand, letting his hands fall to his sides, and move to the edge of the building, where I crouch and peer over the sides. I see dark forms moving around on the street level. I stare at them blankly until I hear the crunch of Daryl's feet moving across to the sleeping bags. He settles himself with a sigh, and I take a deep breath, holding it for half a minute before I let it go with a rush.
I turn and move back to our sleeping bags. We unzipped them earlier so that we could lay on top of mine and have his over us both. He's lying on his side, away from me, and I take that as a rejection. He doesn't want my company.
I lay down on my back and gaze into the sky. There are stars everywhere. Iridescent, beautiful stars. Pure energy, untainted by the hell that now walks on earth.
I could die tomorrow. I could be surrounded by biters and eaten alive. Why care about petty arguments anymore? I don't want to spend the night alone. I don't want to spend any night alone. I scoot over to Daryl and roll so I'm wrapped around him. I feel him flinch, and he moves to face me, breaking my hold.
"Turn," he whispers. I comply. He offers me his hand, and I hug it to my chest, snuggling into him. I shut out the muffled moans and scuffling of the walkers below. Eventually, I fall asleep.
{o0o}
"Andy," Daryl's voice calls, breaking through my sleep and reaching my ears. My eyelids squint open, the harsh sun beating down on my face. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, and a dark, amorphous shape blocks the sun.
"Wake up," he says. But he doesn't sound like his usual self - his voice is muffled, like we're underwater. He comes into focus.
Staggering, blinding fear shoots through me, and I scream.
"Daryl?!" I shout, trying to crawl backwards on my hands and knees.
"What's wrong?" he says. I start sweating, panting, going crazy.
"You're... You're a walker!" He frowns like I'm crazy. But I'm not. His face is torn, gray, decaying flesh, his hair is matted with crusted mud and blood. His gorgeous eyes are now silver irises over a yellow background, and a chunk of flesh is missing from his cheek, leaving a gaping hole that black blood is dripping out of. And his lips... His beautiful lips are torn off, revealing stained and missing teeth, covered in blood and skin tissue. His hands are bloody messes.
"Andy, it's okay," he croons menacingly, rising and stumbling towards me. His ankle is snapped.
"No! No, get away! Get away!"
"Andy," I hear. I shut my eyes and turn away. But this is Daryl's voice. The real Daryl.
"Andy!" Daryl whispers frantically. He's gripping my wrists and holding them tight to my chest, pinning my hips down with one of his heavy legs. My eyes open with a jolt. I'm burning, sweating, and my heart is pumping at a million miles per hour.
"Daryl," I choke. "What happened?"
"You were dreaming. Starting thrashing around. Woke me up and scared me shitless. Thought you mighta been havin a seizure or somethin." I breathe out in relief. I notice it's still dark out.
"Daryl," I say breathlessly. I move my wrists up and hook them around his neck, bringing him down and tucking my chin on his shoulder. I crush him to my body in a death grip, soaking in his warmth. I shiver.
I don't want to lose him. Ever.
"Promise me you won't leave me? Promise me you'll survive?" I ask desperately.
"I won't leave you, baby girl. We're gonna survive together." I smile, and release him. He looks down at me for a fraction of a second, taking in my puffy lips, tear stained cheeks, and flushed complexion. He bites his lip before lowering his face to mine, infinitely slowly, testing me. I don't pull back, only gaze at him with big, doe eyes, questioning his actions. I feel the whisper of a kiss against my sensitized lips. I don't want it to end. But then it's gone, and his weight leaves my body. He regains his usual position, and sleep finds me once more.
{o0o}
"Shit! Goddamnit, Merle!" Daryl growls. I motion for him to quiet down. We're back in the woods, having left our rooftop and returned to tracked Merle. We've been following the trail for at least three hours now, and we've come across a river. We crossed to the other side, but Merle's trail has disappeared.
"Daryl, we don't want to be heard," I call softly. He grinds his teeth and slightly bares them at me like an angry beast. I get where he's coming from. Hours of tracking and we lose Merle in a river?
"What do we do?" He challenges, exasperated.
"Let's think this through. He's been traveling West this whole time." I rifle through my backpack until I come across my map, pulling it out and smoothing it down onto the dirt ledge over the river. I pin the corners down with rocks and point to three purple circles.
"These are all settlements around here. This one's North, this one's Northwest, and this one's South. This river curves North through here before it turns East. If I had to bet, I'd say Merle followed the river North. Probably walked in the bank and the water washed away his prints."
"You saying he's in a settlement?" I nod.
"Yeah. He looked roughed up, but I get the impression he always does. 'Sides, you said he's ex-army, and he was second in command at Woodbury. Sounds like any settlement would take him in, kiss his ass, and promote him right up to the top." Daryl snorts.
"They'd kiss his ass alright. And he'd totally abuse that shit. And he may be stubborn as all hell, but he's smart enough to know joinin a settlement is the safest bet." He thinks for a moment, rubbing his stubble. "Let's try North."
We set off, electing to walk the upper ground over the soft, wet dirt on the bank. We're constantly on alert, alternating between who watches behind us and who leads. I have an arrow nocked at all times, and Daryl has a bolt docked. We get to the section where the river curves, and we cross through the shin deep water. It's cold, but it feels good on my hot skin. As we walk, I think about this morning.
Daryl didn't mention the kiss. Not even the night before - what with Dean and my dream and his promise to me. We just woke up, stretched, packed up, and left. Slipped right out of town before the biters knew we were there or knew we had left. The first words he spoke to me were about shooting some breakfast. I solved that problem when I shot a squirrel. We cooked it and had a bit of a scuffle when a few biters smelled the fire. They came shambling up to our cooking pit but we saw and heard them with plenty of time. We picked them off with ease. But our breakfast burned.
The whole time I was waiting for Daryl to bring up the night before. I mean, ignoring it is worse than if he just said it was a mistake and he wouldn't do it again. Guys are so frustrating. Why would he think I wouldn't want to address it at all? Clearly he thought I didn't like it or else he would've followed up with something this morning. A compliment, a phrase, another kiss, hell, I don't know. All this unnecessary worrying now just because he's pretending nothing happened. And now I can't bring it up because I don't know what he'll say. Instead, I come up with a lighter topic as we approach the point where we have to branch off for one settlement or the other.
"Worst thing about the apocalypse is the lack of freedom. We're stuck at the prison with people we may not even like, can't even visit other friends a few miles over, anymore. No trips across seas, no train rides to other states, nothing," I complain lightly.
"Nah, it's the constant noise. Can't even go for a walk in the woods or in the prison yard without hearing that moaning. Never ending. 24/7. It's maddening. Used to love the woods. Could go huntin for days straight, never see or talk to another soul. So peaceful."
"I hear ya on that one. What I wouldn't give for just one day of my normal routine. I used to get so sick of it - same thing every day. Get up at six, shower, teach a class at the gym. Work out for an hour or two, eat lunch. Then I'd go for a walk through White River State Park. The same route everyday. I'd put in my earbuds and tune everyone else out. Complete cathartic exercise. Back at the studio I'd teach some more classes, head home, eat or go out with my friends, and go to sleep. Always the same. And yet now I miss it so much." It's quiet for a moment.
"Okay, best part of the apocalypse?" A small smile plays across my lips.
"No more technology." Daryl looks at me incredulously. "Okay, yeah, a real shower or a working blender or some light bulbs would be nice, but not being connected to social media or other people all the time? Trust me, I don't miss that annoying ding every time I got a message or someone tweeted something."
"Guess that makes sense." We reach the "fork" in the road and halt. We both lean down and study the ground thoroughly.
"I think I have something here," I say uncertainly. It looks like the faint markings of a few boot prints leading towards the northwest settlement. Daryl looks over and nods his head.
"Gotta be him. Let's go."
{o0o}
"We should camp soon. We won't make this settlement by dark, but there's a little town about a half hour further along this path. We could try the roof thing again."
"If we travel through the night we could have Merle back by tomorrow night!" He persists.
"You're right, we could. We would also be falling down tired and of no use. What if Merle isn't there? What is the settlement is hostile? What if we run into a huge herd at 2am when we can't see shit and we're exhausted? What if-"
"You've made your point," he growls. I acquiesce.
"You know what I mean." He sighs.
"Fine," he relents begrudgingly.
{o0o}
The town is slightly bigger than the last one, but I see another roof access ladder on an old, brick pharmacy. It's old enough for the ladder to be its only way to the roof, but that's not the real problem. This town has at least twenty biters roaming the streets, and we have to cross one to reach the alley the ladder is in.
"Should we find somewhere else?"
"No, let's just run for it," Daryl whispers back. My eyes are wide with anxiety, but I nod.
"Just follow me." Daryl sets off at a run.
I bound up from my kneeling position and flail after him, my huge backpack making my movements awkward. I hear loud growling surface around me, as every walker in the street turns at the sight of movement. They're stumbling after us now, the ones who can still keep a slow run pace ahead of the pack. Daryl reaches the alley just as more walkers pour into it from the other end. They stumble over each other, their hunger driving them blind. Some fall and get trampled, but they keep coming anyways. They have us trapped in the alley. Daryl grabs the ladder and starts climbing rapidly, slipping once on the metal rungs.
"C'mon, Andy!" He calls out. I reach for the bottom rung just as two hands clamp down on my shoulders from the end we came from. I jerk my elbow back where it connects painfully with something hard. The hands leave my shoulders and I spin, fists raised, to see a biter hunched over. I swing my boot up and straight into its chin, causing it to fly backwards into the wall on the opposite side. It was five yards ahead of the others, and I grasp the bottom rung in a panic. A hand grazes my back and I hear the thrum of a crossbow. I turn in time to see the one holding me go limp, a bolt protruding from its gray forehead. I propel myself up the ladder. The crossbow sings three more times, driving the ones around me back, until I'm finally out of their reach. I don't look down as I climb to the top, my sweaty hands dangerously close to slipping. I finally hoist myself over the ledge and land on a gray rooftop. I double over, gasping, hands braced on my knees.
I feel Daryl's hands wrap around my arms, and he lifts me up into an embrace. I hang there limply like a rag doll, letting him hold me up.
"We're good," he says in my ear. I nod and pull away to peer back over the ledge. I see about thirty of them at the base of the ladder, their arms outstretched towards the skies and their ravenous growling echoing off of the brick alley walls. Disgusting animals. All of them. What was once human is completely gone - I can't feel sympathy for the sinister shells left behind.
"Got any flamethrowers?" I mutter. I hear Daryl start laughing and I join in. Soon I'm doubled over and breathless once again, hysterical, relieved laughter wracking through me. I look up and see Daryl chuckling softy and shaking his head, eyeing me dubiously.
I must really be going crazy.
{o0o}
Neither of us get much sleep that night, even wrapped in each other's arms like we are. The walkers just won't let up. They keep growling and going crazy. I would think they would become a background noise but whenever I'm close to drifting, a new, louder moan will ring out and jolt me awake. Finally, sometime in the morning, I fall into a fitful sleep.
Daryl wakes me sometime after the sunrise. There's a shean of sweat on my forehead but it's not from nightmares - I didn't have any. It's blazing up here in the constant stream of light, and the walkers instantly cut through to my senses. We pack up dully, both of us tired but unwilling to stay up here. We don't want to waste time sleeping all day and it's too hot here anyways. Packed up, weapons ready, we cautiously peer over the side of the roof.
They're all still there - not a single thing to distract them during the night.
"How the hell are we getting out of here?" Daryl just shakes his head, scowling.
"Okay, let's look around."
I leave the ledge and slowly start moving clockwise around the edge of the roof. Daryl goes the opposite direction.
I study the ground around the building and realize all of the biters are at the ladder; the other three sides are free. If we could just get down one of these three sides...
The building is on a side street. Directly behind it is a parking lot and then the woods. It's the opposite direction we came from, but if we broke into the trees we could navigate back around to the other side.
The side across from the first alley drops into another alley. It's empty, too, but restricting. If we drop down there then there's no other ladder back to this roof. There is one to the next roof over, though... We could drop there and climb the next roof. If we building hop over we would put distance between us and this alley encase any of the walkers see us.
The last side is the storefront. It faces where we came from, giving the shortest path back to our destination. If we drop there we could dart across the street into the woods. But then we'd be exposed and the walkers from the alley would probably see us. Thirty walkers on our trail is not a pleasant thought.
I regroup with Daryl and tell him what I found.
"There was an open dumpster we could drop into in the other alley. Trash bags would break the fall," he says. We peer over the side and study it.
"There could be anything in those black bags," I say finally.
"I know," Daryl says, frustrated. "But the alley's empty. It's our best shot." I nod. It's true. But still... We'd be leaping into who knows what. Shards of glass that would pierce our skin. Scraps of paper that would hardly break our fall... It's risky.
"We have to do it," I state. Daryl studies my eyes grimly.
"We could try shooting all the walkers down."
"No. We would draw more in if we used bullets, and we could run out of arrows before we even hit three fourths of them."
"We're good shots," he persists.
"Fourty-eight arrows and over thirty of them? And every shot has to be a head shot? It's not worth it. If we don't hit every one we'll have lost the ones we used. And if we resort to guns we'll draw more in." He sets his jaw, debating. Finally, he nods.
"Okay. Let's do it. I'm going first."
Thanks to everyone who's read so far! We broke 5,000 views! That's so crazy to me because the other fandom I write is so small that I only have a fraction for that story.
Anyways, please consider leaving a review! A lot of effort went into this chapter but it only takes a few seconds for you to leave an odd comment, which would really boost my desire to keep the story going. I'm not even sure if anyone likes it, really. Ya'll should know how much reviews mean to the author.
Ps, I was thinking of changing the title. But I'm not sure what I want to change it to. We'll see I guess :)