A/N:Well, here we are! Another Sunday night with no Walking Dead to watch *frown*. Hopefully this will fill a tiny bit of the void we are all feeling. I'm sorry this took so long, but hopefully it was worth the wait! To my faithful readers and reviewers … thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. You are the reason I continue with this newly formed obsession we call FANFIC.
ENJOY!
I was born of the womb of a poisonous man,
Beaten and broken and chased from the land.
But I rise up above it, high up above it and see
I was hung from a tree made of tongues of the weak,
The branches, the bones of the liars and thieves.
Rise up above it, high up above it and see
Pray to your God, open your heart,
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark.
Cover your eyes, the devil inside.
One night of the hunter,
One day I will get revenge,
One night to remember,
One day, it'll all just end*
Daryl's foot tapped impatiently on the dusty floor of the kitchen. He sat ... waiting ... for what exactly, he wasn't sure. Shane sat on the couch clutching his shotgun; his head leaned all the way back, allowing the steady rhythm of his breathing to whisper eerie echoes throughout the room. Daryl's brain was in overdrive; thinking, planning, praying.
The two had spent the better part of an hour checking all of the windows and door locks, the basement, and even the tiny fenced in backyard. As peculiar as it was, Daryl was relieved that the place seemed to be devoid of anything ... dead or undead.
His thought process was pretty simple ... get in, find Sara and the baby, and get the fuck out. Something told Daryl that it wouldn't be that easy, but that was his plan. Either way, he wanted to make sure the house was secure so they had a place to hide, lest they be chased by anything upon their departure from the military base. With any luck, they wouldn't even need to come back here, but Daryl knew damn well that luckhadn't exactly been on his side lately.
With Shane resting and the house locked up tight, there was only one thing left for Daryl to do. He gave a heavy sigh, reached for the small candle that was burning on the table, and headed to the bedroom down the hall. He shut the door behind him and looked around. The bed was positioned at the back wall underneath the small window, and a low dresser adorned the wall opposite the door. There were several boxes on the floor of the open closet. Daryl sat down on the bed, taking in the familiar scent of Sara's hair that lingered on the pillow. He took a long, slow breath, remembering the delicate features of her face, the warmth from the small of her back, and the way she slept with her hands curled under her chin. He realized, perhaps for the first time, that he actually loved her. He'd never said it to her, or anyone else for that matter, but sitting here in her room, it became absurdly clear to him.
His eyes shifted slightly to the boxes on the floor and he felt his heart sinking like the icy Titanic. They all contained baby things; blankets, diapers, bottles, some toys, and a crib that, judging from the shape of the box, still needed to be assembled.
He suddenly felt himself admiring how brave Sara really was. He knew her mother was just as horrible as his own and he couldn't imagine how scared she probably was, having no experience, and no one to give her any direction of sorts. From the looks of the house, the couple that lived here didn't have any children either. There were no toys laying around, no photos on the walls, and no playpens or high chairs anywhere. Daryl silently cursed himself for not responding to her letter sooner.
He pulled out a suitcase from under the bed and began packing it methodically. He grabbed as many baby clothes as he could, and folded them with a delicacy that he never knew he possessed. He just couldn't bring himself to throw everything into the bag, feeling that would be nothing short of disrespectful. Instead, he treated every item like it was breakable glass, carefully lining the suitcase and neatly packing them on top of one another. As he finished with the baby clothes, he began folding Sara's clothes. He filled one suitcase and found a large duffle bag, loading that up as well. Daryl sat back down on the bed, looking at the bags and boxes in front of him. The crib box had a picture of a young couple standing next to the edge of the crib, reaching down to snuggle their smiling baby boy. It occurred to Daryl that he never knew anyone who was truly that happy. Merle certainly never had a real relationship ... just floozies he brought home from the bar, or met at some party. Although his mother and Beau were exactly alike, they never showed any signs of being happy with one another. Hell, Rick and Lori were about the only thing close to real happiness he had ever seen. Daryl wondered whether or not he could bring true happiness to anyone's life.
With a heavy heart, he got up and walked over to the small dresser, looking over the few knick knacks Sara had placed on the top. There was a small wooden box with a broken clasp which made the lid sit ever-so crooked on top. Daryl carefully opened it up ... the black and white image inside twisting his heart in a million different directions. He leaned in closer to better inspect the ultrasound picture ... when he noticed the small writing in the bottom corner.
Baby Dixon
He was just staring at the picture when it started. Daryl felt the warm trickle of a tear falling down his cheek ... one by one ... until the flood gates had been opened and he wept silently to himself. At that point, he wasn't quite sure whether they were tears of joy, or tears of sadness ... all he knew was that he needed to cry. He needed to get rid of all the emotions that he had locked up tight for so long.
God, it felt good.
His head began to clear, like clouds parting in the summer sky. He more he cried, the easier it was for him to let go of everything. It was as if all the rotten memories from his past just dissolved into thin air, and nothing mattered anymore. He knew his purpose in life and he knew everything would be ok.
The hushed crackle of the candle flame slowly lulled Daryl back into reality. He carefully folded the picture in half, and tucked it into his pocket. With the back of his hand, he wiped the tears from his face, and began hauling the suitcases and boxes to the front door. He woke Shane by giving his foot a soft kick, and motioned for him to help with the luggage. Shane consented silently with a small nod of his head. The Suburban was packed and ready to go, so Daryl closed the front door of the house, leaving it unlocked. He took a deep breath, loaded his crossbow, and headed towards the base.
They trudged along the dark, secluded streets of Fort Benning, prepared to duck behind a bush or a parked car if anyone ... or anything came their way; Daryl in the lead, and Shane trailing close behind. The glow of the spotlights at the base reminded Daryl of Friday night football games at the local high school. The whole town usually attended, although Daryl and Merle were rarely allowed to go. But the bright lights of the stadium lit up the entire sky and could be seen on a clear night from just about anywhere in town. Funny ... Daryl never thought he would long to be headed to a football game.
Daryl managed to lead Shane around a few buildings and into a nearby wooded area, where he hoped to get a better view of the base and see exactly what kind of security they were running. He climbed up a short hill and took cover behind a small row of bushes. Shane pulled out the binoculars and handed them to Daryl.
Daryl surveyed the scene in front of him. The base was actually smaller than he anticipated, and the bright lights that enveloped the base also shot intense beams out into the darkness of the surrounding fields and wooded areas. There were two large buildings in the center, flanked on the right by six or seven smaller one-story buildings. Towards the back of the base, Daryl could see two more buildings, one in each corner, with a large paved area in between. Judging from the gas pumps, Daryl assumed those were garages for vehicle and/or equipment storage. A small helicopter was positioned near the wall closest to Daryl, but it looked like it had seen better days; an obvious splay of bullet-holes adorning the side panel.
The main entrance had a double gate made of simple chain-link with barbed wire curling over the top. A tall lookout building sat on the left side of the gate. Daryl counted six men at the entrance; four on the ground by the gate, and two more at the top of the tower. All of them were heavily armed.
The rest of the base was surrounded by a high brick wall, where another half-a-dozen men were patrolling atop the catwalk. Daryl could barely make out a small door, or some kind of opening in the wall, near the back corner ... but he was too far away to say for sure what it was. For now, it seemed the only place in or out, was the main entrance.
On one hand, Daryl was grateful since it seemed safeguarded from the dangers of the outside world. If Sara and the baby were in there, they were well-protected. On the other hand, it also meant whatever was inside only had one way of getting out ... and frankly, that frightened him.
Shane nudged him on the arm, "Let me take a look". Daryl handed over the binoculars and waited patiently while Shane scanned the base.
"Only one way in or out ... far as I can see" Shane whispered.
Daryl nodded his head "I wanna git a better look at the back wall ... there may be a way in, but I can't tell from here ... need ta git closer"
Shane peered thru the binoculars once more, "It's bright as hell out there ... I'm bettin' they got motion sensors all around too." He pondered for a brief moment. "If we go around the long way, thru those side streets over there, take a position on one of those rooftops … we might be able to se without getting noticed."
Without moving his eyes off the base, Daryl answered "Well then ... that's tha way we go"
And with that, Daryl headed out into the night. They quietly maneuvered between buildings and parks, keeping to the shadows like some kind of evil demons. Shane ran ahead slightly as he spotted a fire escape of an apartment building. They climbed up three levels and made their way to the corner of the rooftop, when Daryl suddenly heard a noise. He grabbed Shane and pulled him down to crouch behind the brick wall that circled the roof.
They sat in silence; Shane's questioning look boring into the side of Daryl's head as he strained to hear the muffled voices of soldiers.
The racket came from the distance, but slowly grew closer and closer. Daryl barely made out the whispers of the men over the steady clomping of their footsteps on the concrete.
Shane pointed to the street below, and the two of them peered over the edge.
Four soldiers in fatigues were walking briskly towards a military truck that was parked across the street of the apartment building. Daryl closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate on their hushed conversation.
"Staff Sergeant, Why in the hell are we doing' this anyway? That Doctor lost her mind a long time ago … if you ask me. We ain't seen any progress from her damn experiments and frankly, I don't think we ever will."
"Private Miller, might I remind you that we are under direct orders from Sergeant Major Thomas. I don't really give a rat's ass what you think about the Doctor's state of mind. We are still members in the United States Army, God damnit, and you will follow orders!"
The Staff Sergeant stopped walking long enough to turn around and place his nose directly into the younger man's face.
"Do I make myself clear … Private?"
There was a long pause, "Yes sir Staff Sergeant"
"Good. Now … get the catchpole out of the truck so we can apprehend the target and get back to the base. Donahue, Stevens … you go around the north side of that alleyway and run interference. We'll follow the target and catch him from behind, where he can't see us. Let's get our game faces on gentlemen."
"Yes Sir" the others answered, and quickly ran to their posts.
Shane quietly sat back down behind the wall, "What the hell do you suppose that was all about?"
Daryl just shrugged. "Don't know … but I'd like ta find out who this target is. C'mon, follow me"
Daryl led Shane across the rooftop to the opposite side of the building. They set up between the wall and a giant metal air duct that housed a fan that obviously stopped running a long time ago. They sat and waited until the two men came into view on the far end of the alley. A few minutes passed by when Daryl heard a low growling noise echoing off the building walls … it sounded all too familiar, as Daryl cursed under his breath.
" It's a fuckin' walker" Daryl hissed.
"What? Where?" Shane squinted his eyes to see into the darkness.
At the far end of the alley, the two recruits called quietly to the approaching hazard, in an attempt to draw it closer. Daryl couldn't see, but it looked like a man, wearing a white lab coat. One of his arms dangled at his side, and half of his face seemed to be … missing. He wobbled steadily toward the two men as the Staff Sergeant and Miller crept up behind him. In the blink of an eye, Miller had the catchpole around the 'docs' neck, yanking hard enough to knock him on the ground. The other two men quickly placed a potato sack over his head, and bound his hands and feet together. The walker continued to squirm and moan under the weight of the Staff Sergeant's foot, until he pulled out some kind of dart gun, and shot it straight into the side of the 'target'. His movements ceased and the men stepped back to catch their breath.
"Nice work gentlemen. Miller, go grab the truck. Donahue, radio the base that we'll be returning shortly with the cargo."
Daryl and Shane ducked back into the shadows of the rooftop, starring at each other in astonishment. Neither of them said a word, but they were both thinking the same thing. Obviously they captured the walker so the "Doctor" could do some kind of experiment on it. But what the hell were they trying to accomplish? Was that why the whole town was eerily peaceful? Had they taken everyone and made them pawns in some sort of sadistic attempt to cure the disease, or whatever was causing the dead to return to life?
Now, more than ever, Daryl needed to get inside of that base. So help him, if anyone had used his child …
No, He refused to even think it to himself. He took one last look over the wall, watching the men load their prize into the back of the truck. As it sped off, Daryl turned to Shane to say something … when the butt of a gun was smashed against his head … and then everything went black.
*LYRICS to "Night of the Hunter" by 30 Seconds to Mars