Daryl's fingers drummed a stilted rhythm on the steering wheel, pausing and picking up again, hitching and then speeding up. His leg jiggled to nearly the same rhythm as he drove the pickup truck down the highway, occasionally slowing to steer around a car or a walker when one came into his path. He had that feeling. That itchy feeling, the one that made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck even though he couldn't pinpoint why.
He hated that feeling when it came out of nowhere, when there was nothing around he could figure was triggering it. A sigh fell from his lips and he ran his hand roughly over the back of his neck, before settling it on the steering wheel to drum out a new rhythm.
"What's wrong, Daryl?" Beth's soft, concerned voice broke the silence, almost surprising him. It wasn't that he'd forgotten she was there, it was just that there was this ever present ease between the two of them now, where her being there was so natural that at times, he didn't even think about it. When he glanced over at her now he could see a hint of worry in her eyes, darkening the cornflower blue a bit as she studied his face.
If it had been anyone else he would have just grunted, but since it was Beth, he found himself asking, "How d'you know somethin' is wrong?"
A faint little smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and then Beth replied, "I can just tell. When you're embarrassed, you rub your hand over your hair. When you're thinking sometimes, you scratch your beard. When you're worried about something, though, you kinda drum your fingers or jiggle your leg, and sometimes you rub the back of your neck. You've been doing it all morning."
Something about the way she remembered things like that made Daryl smile inwardly. It wasn't just that she was observant about everything in general, though she was. (It was part of what made her so good at picking up on tracking and hunting.) It was that she noticed those things abouthim. Used to be he hated people staring at him, trying to pick him apart. Still did. But with Beth, it was never like that. She studied him on her own, quietly and without pressure, and she understood, and then she remembered. Whatever she learned observing him seemed to influence how she interacted with him later; she always knew when to be quiet or when to push, and he genuinely appreciated that, after a lifetime of people never seeming to know how to react around him.
"You ever just get this feelin', like… somethin' ain't right? Like you're on edge or waitin' for somethin', but you don't know what it is?" He asked the words all roughly, like he wasn't sure how to express it, cause he wasn't really. At least he felt a hell of a lot less awkward talking to Beth than anyone else.
He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, considering what he was asking and perhaps examining her own memories to decide if she understood. "I think so. Like that sort of niggling feeling you get, right?" He glanced over at her and nodded. "I get it more with people, I think. Like sometimes I just look at people and I get that niggling feeling like something isn't right about them."
Daryl 'hmm-ed' and turned back to look at the road. "Used to get it sometimes, when one of Merle's sales was gonna go bad. Or when a situation was about to go wrong in general, like at a bar or somethin' when Merle got his hands on the wrong girl." He snorted. "Come to think of it, usually involved Merle somehow. He was always gettin' in trouble." His fingers drummed away. "Got stronger, after things changed. Sometimes, things just don't feel right, y'know?" Sometimes it was smaller, like certain buildings on runs or towns they passed by. Other times it was bigger, like with Woodbury, and the Governor.
Beside him, Beth drew in a slow breath and fixed her gaze on him as she asked softly, "You getting it now, Daryl?"
He hesitated and his fingers drummed out that same unsure rhythm on the steering wheel (somethin' ain't right, somethin' ain't right, somethin' ain't right), and then he nodded. "Yeah. Just don't know why. Ain't warning bells or nothing, just like… dunno. Too quiet. Keep feelin' like somethin' should happen, and then it doesn't."
After a moment, Beth scooted closer to him on the seat, until she was gently resting against his side, like she couldn't help with the feeling he was having, but she still wanting to reassure him, too. For a few minutes they just drove quiet, but from the corner of his eye he could see her studying everything around him. "Haven't been a lot of cars in a while," she said musingly, "Usually we always see 'em, on the side of the road."
"Mmm." Her words had him examining the sides of the highway more clearly. "But some places, looks like there were cars. See there, the skid tracks and the mark on the tree where a car hit?"
"Maybe people just… found the car was working, and took it, like we do sometimes?" Beth sounded both hopeful and unsure, but Daryl just frowned, as the niggling little warning sensations inside of him got a tiny bit louder. Even Beth's hand resting just above his knee couldn't help much, though in a way he did feel better having her beside him.
He sat up straighter in his seat as he drove, keeping an eye on the cars in front of them. Rick was driving the car at the front today, with Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, and Tara inside. Behind them, Carol was driving the van, with Tyreese in the passenger seat. Carl, Judith, Sasha, Hank, Father Gabriel, and Eugene filled out the back seats. They'd gotten tired of all being crammed together so they'd picked up another car that followed behind the van, even if it meant they had to look for even more gas. Abraham was driving that car, with Rosita beside him, and Noah in the back seat with Ivy. Daryl and Beth brought up the rear again, even though Daryl had volunteered to take the lead this morning.
"City coming up," Beth said randomly, nodding at a highway sign for 'Cornelia, GA'. The group had originally planned on following 85 up through Braselton and past Commerce, but just through Suwanee, they'd found the highway blockaded by several downed tractor trailers. They'd had to take the split up 985 instead, and the plan had been to stick with it as it turned to Route 23, before following it to Route 123 and into South Carolina where they could eventually get back to Highway 85. Risking an argument this morning, Daryl had mentioned that their route took them nice and close to Chattahoochee National Forest, where it would be easy to head up into the Great Smoky Mountains, but the plan had been dismissed, yet again.
Maybe that was why he had been so tense all day, cause he hadn't gotten his way. (Not that it was about 'getting his way' in the petulant sense of the word. For Daryl it wasn't about whose plan it was, but that he felt it was the safer plan, the right plan.) Or maybe it was because they were just about to go over into South Carolina, probably before nightfall. It was the first time he'd be leaving Georgia, ever, and he couldn't help wondering if he'd ever return to the state, again. It felt… weird. That was the only way he'd been able to describe it, at least, until he'd spoke to Beth about it this morning and as always, she'd found the right words.
(He'd woken up with her tucked against him, her face in the crook of his neck and her little hands curled against his chest. His arm had been around her, his hand splaying against her back to hold her close, and she just looked so peaceful right there in his arms with a soft smile on her lips as her eyes fluttered open. Beth had fallen asleep with him while he'd been on watch last night, until Carol took over with a little smile, and for once he'd let himself actually rest. It had been surprisingly easy with her in his arms, and the fact that she had still been there had made waking up almost perfect. With the others asleep, they took those few moments for themselves, just laying together half-asleep in the stillness of the morning. Daryl had mentioned how close they were getting to leaving the state, and how he didn't know how it made him feel. Beth had just closed her eyes for a moment and nuzzled against him before she'd somehow found the perfect words. 'Exciting, because we've never left the state before… but also sad. Sad, and a little scary, because we don't know what'll happen or if we'll ever make it back here.' It amazed him, how she always knew the right things to say.)
Excited and sad didn't explain the tension within him, though. It coiled tighter as they drove on, more and more as he kept noticing little spots where cars seemed to have been moved from the road. "Look." He pointed ahead with a frown, to where an exit ramp off the highway was blocked off by what looked like two crashed cars. He glanced quickly, and realized the same was true on the entrance ramp on the other side of the highway, and that was not good.
"Weird place to crash…" Beth trailed off with a frown, and he felt her fingers curling tighter over his knee.
"Don't like it," he drawled, feeling tension in every line of his body. When he looked over at her, she was sitting up straight and he could see her shoulder muscles go all tight before she released in a little shiver.
"Me either. I think… I think my little warning radar is going off, too, Daryl." The worry in her voice only made him feel worse. He just wanted her to be safe, wanted all of them to be safe. Something about this situation was hitting him all wrong, and he knew deep down inside that his radar was going off for a reason. The warning bells were ringing away in his head as they rounded a curve in the highway right towards the small city.
Daryl pressed down on the gas, intent on flooring it if he had to in order to catch up with Rick and get him to stop. This was wrong, wrong, wrong…
But it was too late. Up ahead under a bridge he could see cars blocking the road, almost like the stalled traffic they usually saw, only just slightlyoff. It took him a moment to realize just what was wrong, and then he saw it; there was an opening right in the center of all the vehicles, just enough space for cars to get through. He might have guessed that someone had moved the cars to the side, to get their own ride through at some point in the past, but one more look at the cars in the distance and it clicked why that couldn't be true. None of the cars looked moved. They looked like they'd been positioned that way, to blockade the road and allow only a thin path through.
"Shit. Shit!" Daryl pressed down hard on the gas, just enough to shoot up next to the car above them. Rosita looked over from the passenger seat in complete confusion that quickly narrowed into wariness as Daryl shouted through the glass. "Stop! Pull over, stop!"
He saw Beth looking ahead, leaning forward to brace her hands on the dashboard of the truck. "Daryl, look!"
Shit. He was too late. Rick had already begun driving through the gap, and before he could catch up, the van was pulling through right behind him. Daryl slammed on his brakes just a few lengths ahead of Abraham and Rosita's car, and let it coast off to the side. His whole body was tense and on edge as he pulled to a stop on the side of the road. He was waiting, but he didn't know what he was waiting for…
And then the crack of a shot echoed through the air, and in the distance they heard a faint scream.
...
"Beth." Daryl's voice was low and urgent. "Grab your weapons, open your door slowly, and crouch to the ground as soon as you get out, okay? Then I want you to move around to the back of the truck with me." He looked ahead at the blockade of cars, but couldn't see anything. "I think the trouble is past those cars, but we gotta be safe."
He only allowed himself a moment of pride for the way she just nodded and began to smoothly move. As soon as her door opened, Daryl gently and slowly opened his own. Grabbing his bow, he slung it over his back and then carefully slid out of his seat to drop to a crouch. His knives were all in place, but he reached to slide his rifle out from under his seat and then slung it over his shoulder as well. After a second of hesitation, he reached out and took the keys from the ignition; a part of him wanted to keep it running and give them a quick escape, but there was a chance whoever those people were had scouts in the woods that might come around and steal their cars.
Easing the door shut, Daryl slung his crossbow back into his arms and then moved at a crouch along the side of the truck until he could duck around the back. He felt a faint hint of relief seeing Beth there waiting for him, her own crossbow in her lap as she crouched low. She didn't say anything, just gave him a nod, but he could read her just like she could him; she would take his lead right now, trust him to figure out what to do.
Daryl glanced behind them to where Abraham had pulled the other car off the road. Abraham, Rosita, Ivy, and Noah had gotten out of the car at a crouch as well, and were hovering behind the car, peering around to decide if it they could risk crossing the road. Daryl turned, leaning around the edge of the truck and peering up the road. He heard the distant sound of shouts but saw nothing that looked dangerous, so he waved quickly back to the group to signal them to cross as quickly and carefully as they could.
He watched Beth turn instinctively with her bow in her hands, keeping an eye on both the woods to their left and the road behind them to cover their approaching people. At the same time, Daryl kept his eyes ahead of them, watching to make sure no one came to try and pick them off. Times like this, he was even more grateful for the way they functioned as a team, often without even needing to speak.
Soon he heard panting and the scuffling of feet, and the foursome from the car joined them at the back of the truck. Abraham was carrying a shot-gun, Rosita a rifle; Noah had a pistol and Ivy was weaponless, as far as he could tell.
"What the hell happened?" Abraham growled low as he crouched on his haunches and peered quickly around the truck.
"Funnel," Daryl said lowly, nodding up the road. "Someone's got that city claimed, set the highway up as a trap."
He glanced at Beth and saw the moment when it clicked into place in her eyes. "They block everything off, so you only have one way to go, and then what… they trap you?" Her gaze darted nervously up ahead to the blockade of cars and the echoes of distant shouts. "Are they gonna hurt them, Daryl?"
"Dunno." He shifted in place. "Depends on what kind of people they are." Their gazes held at that, full of meaning and understanding. They'd met good people and bad in the last couple years, and there was never any way of telling what it'd be this time around. Daryl knew Beth was optimistic but him, he liked to plan for the worst. Least then sometimes you were pleasantly surprised.
"How'd you even know to stop?" Daryl turned to look at Abraham, and saw a hint of admiration in the man's eyes.
"Dunno." He shrugged, uncomfortable with anything like praise. "Just felt wrong."
"He's been feeling it since we had to switch routes back by Suwanee," Beth spoke up for him, and the admiration in her eyes only made him feel warm and appreciated. "Then today he started noticing things, like how there were no cars on the road but signs they'd been moved. He really knew something was wrong when we saw those exits blocked just back there."
"Smart," Rosita remarked, checking her gun and then settling it across her bare knees.
It was Noah who added lowly, "Guess maybe you were right, about it being a bad idea to go through the cities."
"Don't matter now," Daryl replied gruffly. "Right or wrong, ain't important. What matters is gettin' our people away from there."
"So what do we do?" Abraham was the military man of the group, the one who frequently tended to try and take more of a leadership role, at least when Rick wasn't around. It appeared he'd decided to yield control to Daryl for the moment, and though Daryl was never really the type to jump into a leadership role, he wouldn't draw back when it was set on him. At least, not in a situation like this.
Daryl leaned around the edge of the truck once more, scanning the area. His sharp eyes spotted the bridge that crossed over the highway, noticeably empty of any people from what he could tell. Stupid, in his mind, if whoever it was had cornered their group like he thought they had. His gaze moved from the bridge down below it to the funneled space, the cars on either side, a tractor trailer off to the right, just the back end of it under the bridge, and then he nodded.
"Alright. Here's the plan…"
...
Daryl moved around the left side of the road, crouched down low and holding his crossbow in his hands as he moved slowly but surely through the abandoned cars. He had gone around the left side of the blockade, weaving through the cars and shifting off the road towards the woods briefly, just enough to get a look up ahead. Not only had the cars been used to block the road and funnel cars through, but thit seemed they extended up the road ahead, parked on either side. Smart. It would stop anyone who came through from driving off the road when they were confronted to try and get away. They were forced to stay on the road this way, forced to meet up with whatever people had decided they owned this area.
Whoever they were they were smart, but they weren't geniuses. They'd left the bridge open for starters, and they hadn't thought to send scouts or guards into the trees past the bridge. Judging by the signs they'd still been able to see of the moved cars further back on the highway, this hadn't been here for too long. They were lucky in that regard; it was possible that whoever had set this trap, they hadn't had the time to fine-tune it yet.
Hopefully, that would be something they could use to their advantage.
Daryl veered back into the rows of cars, crouching down low and picking his way carefully through them. The closer Daryl got down the line of cars, the more he could hear. At first it was just voices; Rick's, low and firm, and then the voice of an unfamiliar woman, louder and a little more angry sounding. Of course, he knew Rick well enough to tell the man was angry, too, but when Rick was angry his voice got lower, tenser. Like it was right now.
(Daryl pushed aside the thought that Rick only had himself to blame for this. Blaming wasn't gonna help no one, even if a part of Daryl was furious at the risk that his family had been put to, all because Rick was consumed with some drive to get them, especially his son and daughter, somewhere safe.)
Crouched down low, he rounded the front of a green car and came up behind a beat-up red SUV. To his right, he could just see the back of the van that Carol had been driving. The back door was open, and he could just see Carol and Tyreese standing on either side of the van with their arms up by their heads. He leaned out a little bit more, carefully, trying to get a bead on the situation. Far as he could tell, everyone else was still in the back of the van; their heads dimly visible through the windows.
"Now we don't want no trouble. We just want all ya'll to get out of your cars nice and slow, drop your weapons, and get on back where you came from. Leave your stuff with us." At the sound of the woman's voice, clear enough to hear words now, Daryl pulled back slowly. He began to creep along the side of the SUV, keeping it between him and the van as he moved steadily forward, so no one could spot him. As he moved, he heard Rick reply, "Now ma'am, we don't want any trouble either. My name is Rick. Rick Grimes. I used to be a sheriff, back before all this. Me and my people here, we don't wanna fight you. All we want is to get through, and get out of Georgia, okay?"
There was a snort from the woman, and then he heard, "Yeah, and me and my people just wanna survive. To survive we need supplies, and you got 'em."
Daryl paused near the front of the SUV, still at the side. "Please, ma'am. We got kids."
"You think we don't? You think we won't do whatever it takes to keep them alive?"
He heard the creak of a car door, and the sudden quick cocking of a gun. "Don't move," came the woman's voice. "You just drop that pistol to the ground, Sheriff, and your friend with the sword better stay where she is. You hear me?"
Cursing to himself (mostly at Rick and his stupid stubborn plan) as he slid silently around the side of the SUV, slipping between the front of it and the back of a white station wagon. He was almost level with the back of the van now, but not close enough for Carol to see him. Keeping low to the ground, he peered around the back of the wagon, and finally got his first good, full look at the situation.
Rick was standing in front of his car about fifteen feet away, hands above his head and his gun on the ground in front of him. Michonne stood next to him, her hands up as well, her machete still strapped to her back. A quick glance around, and he spotted Maggie, Glenn, and Tara still be in the backseat, but with both of the back doors to the car pulled open. He nearly flinched when he spotted the two unfamiliar women right there on either side of the car, but instinct stopped him from making a sudden movement that might give him away. Instead, he took a moment to inspect them, his hunter's eyes instantly noting, cataloging, filing away. The one on the right side of the car was tall with short brown hair. She was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and there was a rifle in her hand that she currently had pointed at the three in sitting in the car's back seat. His gaze flitted to the left hand side, where a shorter black woman stood almost facing him. She had short, dark curly hair, and a slightly thinner figure that was clad in jean shorts and a brown tank-top. The gun looked big in her arms but she held it easier, aiming it back at Carol and Tyreese where they stood next to the van.
"Now just slide your foot out and kick that gun to me, Mr… Grimes, was it?" It was the voice of the woman again, the words audible now. She spoke in a tone he was familiar with, that rasp of a smoker, almost like his Ma had once sounded, only younger and harder. Taking a brief risk, Daryl leaned out a little further, and got the look at her that he'd wanted. She was a tall thin woman with bronzed skin and long black hair pulled into a braid. Her eyes were dark brown and currently narrowed at Rick as she pointed her pistol at him without the slightest tremble in her hand. Ranging out behind her were two more woman, both holdings guns as well. One looked close to Carol's age with a stocky frame and white hair, and she held her old pistol comfortably, looking like she'd used it plenty times before. The other was young, maybe only a year or two older than Beth, and something about her bronze skin and dark hair and the set of her face, made him think she was related to the woman who was in charge. Sisters? Maybe even mother and daughter.
That was worrisome. Ain't much more dangerous than a woman protecting her kin. (He remembered Rick, tearing the throat out of that man, he remembered himself raising that gun to shoot that cop woman in the head when he'd thought she'd killed Beth, and amended that statement: ain't much more dangerous than anyone protecting their kin.)
In the distance he could see at least two more people keeping guard farther back, which was what he would've expected. They'd have been stupid to have their whole force out here, and while they were dumb enough to not put people back behind or on the bridge, they were obviously smarter in some ways. Had to be smart to think about this situation in the first place.
The interesting thing of it was, judging by the set of their stances back there, he had a feeling they were women, too. Far as he could tell, the entire group was made up of women. He didn't know why that surprised him. It weren't like he didn't know women could handle themselves. His family included Carol, and Michonne, and Maggie, and Rosita, after all. And then there was Beth, of course. But it was still surprising, somehow, seeing them. Maybe because usually it was the guys who did asshole things like this, cornered people like rabbits to steal from them and shoot them dead.
Whoever these women were, so far they didn't seem intent on killing them. Or at least, they hadn't made a move to, yet. There was no way of knowing whether or not they still intended to, and Daryl just couldn't take that risk.
He crouched down low on the balls of his feet, resting the bow in his lap, already loaded. Waiting for just the right moment.
Rick kicked the gun across the ground, and the woman with the braid eyed him for just a second, before she bent down to pick it up. Stupid move. But that stupid move was the opening he needed. Daryl cupped his hands around his mouth and made a bird call, the sort that would blend in completely with the woods surrounding them. Just a normal forest bird, nothing to be startled by.
The crossbow bolt that flew past the woman, close enough to nick her shirt, now that was something to get startled by. As was the shot that rang out from up by the bridge, cracking into the ground right in front of the brown-haired woman who had been guarding Maggie, Glenn, and Tara, making her spin around with her gun raised. That was Daryl's cue, and Abraham's too. From either side of the road they both took their shots. Daryl's bolt flew right past the leg of the black woman, nicking the side of her thigh. Abraham's shot from across the street whizzed into the center of the two women in the back, making them jump and whirl around.
(Pick your shots, he'd told them carefully, back at the truck. Aim to startle, aim to make'em panic. We ain't tryin' to kill 'em, unless they try'n kill our folk. That ain't who we are. We go in hard an' fast, this whole thing ain't gonna last more'n two minutes, if we do it right. Keep movin', keep pickin' shots, keep'em on our toes until we can get our folks out of those cars an' back here, quick as possible.)
Another crossbow bolt came from up high, grazing the arm of the same woman Daryl had shot at seconds ago, courtesy of Beth, who was currently sprawled out on top of the tractor trailer acting as one of their snipers. It wasn't what he'd have chosen for her first time with her new bow, but she was doing what she needed, and doing it well, and he'd have been proud, if he had the time for pride right now.
The second sharp shot above came from Rosita up on the bridge, using her rifle like a sniper to hit around them, scare them into jumping back and whirling around to look for whoever was shotting at them. They didn't give them time to pin-down where the shooters were. He and Abraham shot from the sides, just long enough to make them think they had a large group of people backing them up before they rushed into the fray.
His crossbow slid over his back in one smooth motion and his pistol was in his hand. He came out from behind the wagon, shooting into the ground right near the younger girl, knowing she'd jump, knowing the older woman would jump to protect her. "Rick!" He shouted as he and Abraham (the assault team, he'd called them when he laid out the plan), closed in on the cars. "Let's go, now, move!" The others in the car didn't hesitate, once they heard Daryl's voice. Maggie surprised him by coming out of the back of the car feet-first, kicking out and sending the black woman down to her knees. As soon as she was down, he saw Carol and Tyreese jumping into action behind them pulling their guns. "Don't!" Daryl shouted. This wasn't meant to be a gun fight. He just wanted his people safe, and out of there. "Get everyone out of the van, now. Get them back through the barricade, Noah and Ivy are waitin' with the other cars. We'll cover you. Go!"
On the other of the front car, Tara climbed out only to come face-to-face with the tall woman who had been guarding them. She'd been startled by the shot from Rosita, but whirled around with her gun in hand, ready to take Tara out. Just in time, Abraham came up behind her with a roar, grabbing the weapon out of her hands and flinging it aside before he shoved her out of the way. "Tara! Run!" That was Glenn coming out behind her, grabbing her as he climbed to his feet and shoving her back towards the van.
Rick was still there, up by the front of his car. As he moved towards him, Daryl felt aware of everything happening all at the same time, all in the same moment. The sound of the van doors opening behind him, gasps and shouts as people climbed free, Carol's voice shouting 'go, go!', Carl crying out 'Dad! Dad!', the whiz of another bolt from Beth, almost hitting the older woman with the pistol as she stepped closer to the young girl, and behind them the two woman down the street were running forward guns raised.
"Rick!" Time slowed to a crawl, and he saw Michonne drawing her sword in one smooth motion, turning to run back to the others; saw Rick turning slowly, too slowly, calling out to Carl as he did; saw the woman in charge regaining control, gun raising, finger on the pistol, ready to shoot. He reached out and grabbed Rick hard by the arm, pushing him out of the way and slamming him against the car just as the shot went off.
There was a white-hot flash of pain across his arm, and his "shit" was exhaled into the air at the same time as someone cried out from behind and above him, "DARYL!" No time to stop, no time to look. The woman still had her gun, she was aiming it right at him and then suddenly she was flying back, a bolt lodged in her shoulder.
Beth.
Her name lit up everything inside of him, filling him with a fire that burned away the slow crawl of time. With a sharp breath he shoved off Rick where he'd pinned the man to the car and grabbed him until Rick's feet caught up. Then they were running, feet pounding on the ground as they hurried past the van. Shots rang out all around them, from above them on the bridge and from the top of the truck where Beth seemed to have switched to her handgun. From behind them, too, shots hitting the ground with sharp cracks, barely missing them until, lord, he heard a scream from up ahead and looked up to the sight of someone falling.
"Sasha!" He heard Tyresse call out for his sister, saw the big bear of a man bend down mid-run and scoop her up into his arms in one smooth motion before darting between the gap in the blockade of cars. Daryl stopped, gasping, desperate to make sure everyone had time to get through okay. He stood there a few feet from the gap, gun pointed at the women, firing steadily and trying his damnedest to keep them back. Another shot went right by his face with a hiss, and even as he ducked he heard a cry from behind him. Daryl turned sharply, just in time to see Father Gabriel fall to the ground, clutching his knee. "Shit!" Carol cursed as she slowed down, bent over, and lifted the man up with a grunt. In one rough movement she was slinging his arm over her shoulder and dragging him with her as she shouted back over her shoulder, "We gotta go, Daryl, we gotta go!"
But he heard a shot close behind him, too close, and turned to see the lead woman coming down the street, gun raised, shooting up at the tractor trailer. He didn't think she could reach her like that but he still called out frantically, "Beth! Beth!"
In a heartbeat he was at the back of the truck, but there was only one moment of panicked desperation (don't be hit, god, not Beth) before her face appeared over the edge. Her eyes were wide and bright with adrenaline, her cheeks flushed as she exclaimed, "Daryl!"
Relief flooded his system but he had to push it aside for now to growl up at her. "C'mon, girl. Gonna have to jump for it, and then we're gonna have t' run, y'hear me?"
Hearing footsteps getting too close, he leaned around the edge of the back of the truck and took aim. The way the woman had been firing straight at Beth, it was almost enough to make him want to actually hit her, but at the last moment he adjusted his aim and fired right at her feet, making her jump back and stumble.
It was just the time he needed to reach up, arms outstretched. "Jump, Greene! I've got ya. Jump!"
With complete trust in her eyes, Beth leaped off the truck and right into his arms, hitting him with an 'ooph' that made him stumble back before he caught himself and got her feet on the ground. Daryl was running on adrenaline and instinct, had been since the sound of that first shot. So it was 100% instinctive when he turned, grabbed her hand, and just ran with her, back through that opening in the cars. They ran full out, feet slapping on the pavement, not daring to look back even though shots rang out around them.
Up ahead the cars were running, and their people were piling into them as quick as they could. He didn't know how they were all gonna fit in two cars, but they had to. They had no other choice.
He could see Ivy shifting over to let Abraham take the wheel of the car again as Rick slid into the back, clutching Judith close in his arms and bringing Carl with him. Michonne followed behind, sliding in tight beside them. Ahead of Daryl, Carol dragged Father Gabriel to the back of the truck and lifted him up with the help of Maggie, Glenn and Tara, who were already inside. Thank god for the fucking truck. It wouldn't be comfortable, but he knew you could fit a lot of people sitting back there, even if it were tight. With Carol's help, Hank got inside too, and pulled her up after him before they both turned to help Tyreese up with Sasha, who he was carrying limp in his arms. Noah, who he'd left with Ivy to guard the cars, was in the cab of the truck, and he slid over the moment Daryl and Beth came running up to the open doors.
Beth turned to him and shouted, "Rosita?" But the woman flew out of the woods just a second later, long tanned legs a blue as she raced to Abraham's car and climbed into the front with Ivy, shouting out the window, "Go!" That was all the incentive they needed. Daryl pushed Beth up into the truck with his hands on her ass, and slid in right after her, slamming the door shut. The moment he was in, his foot was on the gas, flooring it. Screw seatbelts. He'd rather just not get shot. The tires squealed as he spun the truck around in the other direction, hearing gunshots ringing out behind them to crack into the pavement.
He didn't stop, didn't hesitate once. As soon as he was sure Abraham was right behind him, they were out of there. They hauled ass, flying down the road, intent on getting as far away from that trap as they possibly could.
...
Daryl would have kept driving for hours, if Beth hadn't stopped him. In the end it was only about twenty minutes before she reached out to clutch his right arm and pull his focus to her. "Daryl, it's okay. We got away, we made it. We need to stop now, okay? Father Gabriel and Sasha, they're both hurt, they can't take the back of that truck much longer. We need to stop, we need to help them."
(Neither of them dared mention that most of their medical supplies had been in the van they'd been forced to leave behind.)
He just nodded, and refocused, and aimed for the next turn-off he found. A few minutes later they were coasting to a stop at an abandoned house right off Cornelia Hwy. He wasn't sure he wanted to be so close to a road that had the same name as that fucking trap-town, but right now, he didn't have much of a choice.
Doing his best to slow as they drove up the bumpy road for the sake of the people in the back, Daryl coasted to a stop and put the truck in park. As soon as he stopped, both Noah and Beth were climbing out their side and hurrying quickly around to the people at the back.
Beth's anxiety around people seemed to be shoved back right now, when she was more concerned about their family being hurt. He glanced through the window and saw her back there, urging people to get out of the way, to let her get a look at their injured members, and he remembered that she'd helped her Daddy out back at the farm, that she'd helped the people at the hospital, too, even though they'd kept her captive there. At least something good at come from that horrible place.
"Tyreese, get Sasha's shirt out of the way, and then I want you to keep pressure on that wound, okay? It looks like it went clean through her shoulder, but we gotta make sure. Maggie, will you help him?"
Daryl pushed the truck door open. "Lay Father Gabriel out, okay? Looks like he got shot in his leg. We need to keep it raised, and get his leg free of those pants so we can see if it went through. Noah, take my knife and cut his pants off from the knee..."
He smiled at the sound of his voice. That was his girl, in control, helping the people she loved. Daryl pushed open the door wider and slid out, but when he rose to his feet he felt a rush right to his head and swayed, before falling back slightly against the car. "Daryl!" He heard Beth's concerned voice from the back of the truck, but Carol got to him first, her hands instantly tugging at his arm and finding where the bullet had grazed him.
The adrenaline was leaving his body and shit that hurt.
"He's been shot!" Carol cried back to Beth, even as Daryl waved a hand at her to push her away.
"M'fine." He was. He'd gotten worse than that, plenty of times before. Daryl even opened his mouth to say it, but then he looked down and saw the blood dripping from his arm to the ground, and maybe he'd been bleeding more than he realized because suddenly he was surprisingly lightheaded.
"I'm... I'm fine... Just gonna..." He started to slump against the truck, sinking down to the ground. "Just gonna sit, just need t'... Sit."
Everything started to go hazy for just a moment, and then suddenly Beth's face was right in front of him. She was crouching down in front of him, her blue eyes full of worry but somehow also uplifting at the same time. "I've got you," she murmured, catching him under his arms and lowering him to the ground before kneeling between his legs. "You just stay right here with me, Daryl. I'll take care of you."
"Yeah," he breathed out, dazed but with his eyes on her, seeing sunshine and blue eyes and don't you think that's beautiful and god, yes, he did. "I know. Cause you're my girl, right?"
Beth looked up from where she was wetting a cloth with some water, and her eyes were wide with surprise for just one moment before a smile curved up her lips and she exhaled, "That's right." She pressed the wet cloth to his wound, ignoring his hiss of pain as she started to clean it with gentle dabbing touches. Of course, the pain was nothing compared to the look in her eyes as she murmured back, "I'm your girl, Daryl. Now you just focus, and stay with me. I've got you."
***A/N: Dun dun dunnn! I hope you liked this chapter, it was a different pace for the story a bit, and I worked really hard to get it good. (There was a LOT of research involved!) All the places mentioned in the story are real, including the city where the trap is.
I hope you guys liked the big action scene. IT'S ALL RICK'S FAULT, GOSH. . I had a lot of fun writing it, even if it was nervewracking. Having it be a group of women was important to me, there's not enough women on The Walking Dead. (We don't get to see it play out, but I have headcanon about these women, how they've all been treated like shit and maybe harassed and attacked by men, so they make their own safe place, and do whatever they have to do to survive.) Oh and yes, the "funnel" idea was inspired by The Last Of Us, if anyone caught that.
(I bet I know what your favorite part was, though, all of you! It was the end, wasn't it? HM? Comment and let me know!)