All That's Lost Is Found
I woke up before the sun was even shining through the guard tower windows and groaned, cursing my internal alarm. Stretching brought a lazy smile to my face, my body sore in the most wonderful ways. Daryl shifted behind me, mumbling incoherently as I sat up and looked around for my clothes. Clutching his worn vest that I used as makeshift blanket against my chest to ward off the chill I grimaced at the state of the guard tower. My pants were in one corner, my tank top in another, and my panties were hanging on the edge of the window. I had no idea where my bra was and so far I could only find one of my boots.
"It looks like a sex tornado ripped through here," I sighed, snatching up pieces of clothes, keeping my own while tossing his over my shoulder without a backwards glance. His pants slapped him in the face and I giggled when he sat up with a growl.
"Christ woman, watch it will ya!"
"Someone's grumpy in the morning," I sing-songed, snagging my underwear from the window. Lord help us if anyone noticed that. Talk about waving a red flag at a bull. There would be no living this one down. Quickly picking up my pants I shoved one leg through, hopping around as I tried to get the other leg in. "Do you see my other boot?"
He mumbled under his breath, pointing behind me and I saw the steel toed tip peeking out from underneath his discarded flannel shirt. I was worried for about a half-second things might be awkward after my impromptu confession last night, but everything so far seemed normal. I continued to throw his clothes at him and he continued to grumble and curse so, par for the course. Even him slinging my bra and tank top at my head didn't wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. Only Daryl could wake up pissy after last night. I, on the other hand, would be smiling like a dope and walking funny for the foreseeable future, but you know what they say, if you aren't walking funny the next morning someone wasn't doing their job. I winced as I bent forward to buckle my boots, ignoring the satisfied gleam in his eyes as he watched. The man had done his job and he knew it.
Leaving him to gloat and get dressed at a glacial pace I stepped outside. It was still early, quiet, and I took a calming breath as I surveyed the landscape. The pre-dawn hours had always unsettled me. Something about the twilight felt ominous and foreboding. Maybe it was because it was the optimal time for an attack, too early for the sleeping to be awake, too late for the night watch to be alert.
The wet air coated my arms and face already dampening my tank top. Today would be scorching, but what else was new. Closing my eyes I tried to prepare myself for what was sure to be a shit day. I heard Daryl step out behind me and glanced at him over my shoulder, smiling. He stood next to me, arms braced on the railing, crossbow slung on his back as he looked down at the yard. I followed his gaze with a dejected sigh. Just like that our timeout was over.
"Gonna grab something."
He didn't elaborate and I didn't question him as he walked towards the door leading to the stairs. He stopped so suddenly I almost plowed into him which, as it turned out, saved us both time, his arms snaking around my waist and pulling me flush against his rock hard body. He brushed his surprisingly soft lips against mine both of us sighing when we made contact. He leaned back, his lips twitching in amusement at my bemused state. Normally I would play it off, deny, deny, deny, but that was a fool's errand. I was so hot and bothered I barely resisted the urge to fan myself as he pivoted on his heel and walked away. Off to do whatever it was Daryl Dixon did when he wasn't kicking ass and taking names or making women's panties spontaneously catch fire.
Half an hour later I heard his footsteps approaching from behind. I would know his distinct swagger anywhere. I had long ago memorized the rhythmic steps, cataloguing it along with every other unique trait he possessed. I was on my knees in front of the graves, my eyes glued to the crudely made crosses with hastily scrawled names carved into the wood. I didn't look down at the fresh dirt atop each one. I didn't think my fragile psyche could handle it, but it didn't stop my mind from conjuring the image. There weren't even bodies in two of the graves and somehow that made it worse even though I wasn't sure why. Dead was dead. I'd buried more than my fair share of empty coffins over the years, but none carried the heartache these did.
Daryl didn't say anything as he walked forward, bending down and placing something on Carol's grave. It wasn't until he stepped back that I saw it was a Cherokee Rose. I sniffled, closing my eyes as I remembered a time not long ago when he'd given her one for her daughter. The daughter we were unable to save. Just like her mother. He took his time placing the delicate flower inside a ring of rocks he painstakingly laid down. I felt like I was intruding on something private, but he said nothing about my presence and I was powerless to move. She'd been a sister to me and a best friend to him. The two had formed the most unlikely of friendships, but that was what made it truly special. I didn't think either of us would ever get over her loss.
My eyes flicked to T's grave, the only one of the three with a body. If you could even call what was left of him a body. My lips trembled remembering the state they found him in. He deserved better than this, deserved better than a shallow grave in a prison yard, his body torn to shreds. It would have been me lying here dead if he'd let me go for the gate. It should be me. He was a good man with an endless heart and now he was gone. He was the best friend I didn't deserve. I missed him so much it felt like I might drown in my sorrow.
I had yet to look at Lori's empty grave. The images I had in my head of T's body were from Glenn's abbreviated description and Rick's stricken face. Lori was a different story entirely. I remembered with vivid clarity the blood pouring out of her body, her screams of pain as she died. She was another person in a long line that died because of something I'd done or rather failed to do. Again, the details didn't matter. Dead was dead.
Daryl put his hand on Carol's cross, pausing for a second to say his final, silent goodbye before looking down at me. "Ya comin' in?"
I swallowed hard, keeping my head down. "In a minute."
He squeezed my shoulder briefly, but didn't say anything, heading back for the prison. I knew I couldn't sit here forever. There were things that needed doing, not the least of which was taking care of our newest addition, but I needed time.
Just one minute with my friends.
With my family.
To grieve.
To say goodbye.
By the time I made it into the man cave everyone was halfway through breakfast. My steps faltered for a beat as my eyes drifted to Oscar. He was an outsider and that made me caution of him on principle, but after what he did yesterday he earned his place, for now. I'd be keeping an eye on him though. As if sensing my eyes on him he smiled at me as I made my way to where Daryl was sitting on the stairs, but when I scowled at him in return his eyes dropped to the floor. He may have earned his place, but we weren't going to exchange friendship bracelets just yet.
I sat down and Daryl handed me a bowl, leaning over to whisper in my ear. "Be nice." His eyes flicked to Oscar.
"Seriously?"
If the world hadn't stopped spinning before it sure had now. The poster child for anti-social behavior was telling me to be nice. I was officially living in some kind of Twilight Zone. What was next, Carol giving up porn? Glenn not shouting the hallelujah chorus at all hours of the night? I couldn't handle the hit to my equilibrium. It was too disorienting. I needed some kind of stability in a world gone mad. Carol with her nose shoved in porn, whatever the hell Maggie did that made Glenn scream "weeeee!", and last, but certainly not least, Daryl being an ass to everyone. Those things were my normal. They made sense. Me being nice to Oscar the Inmate did not.
I eyed my breakfast bowl with disinterest, pushing the contents around with a spoon as I surveyed the room. Nugget was sleeping soundly in Beth's arms as she rocked the child back-and-forth. It made me smile and that was the only thing. The moment my eyes shifted to Carl I frowned. He was sitting at the table, his food untouched, face pale, eyes vacant, body language screaming silently for help. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him, but this time there was nothing I could do. He didn't need me.
"Rick?" I whispered to Daryl who bit his thumbnail and shook his head no. I sighed, but the sound of a voice from outside the door startled me.
"Everybody OK?"
Rick slowly opened the door as Maggie answered, "Yeah, we are." Debatable.
He'd cleaned himself up since yesterday. The blood and grim was gone from his body and clothes, but there was no hiding the instability in his haunted eyes. He made his way to the table, Carl's eyes leaving his bowl for the first time as he looked at his dad expectantly. I silently prayed he wouldn't fuck this up. I understood he was hurting, but so was Carl. He may have lost his wife, but his son had not only lost his mother, he was the one to put her down.
"What about you?" Hershel asked, a knowing look in his eye.
"Cleared out the boiler block." I shook my head at the non-answer.
"How many were there?" Daryl questioned.
"I don't know. A dozen, two dozen." If he wasn't such a train wreck I'd call him out on his hypocrisy. Just yesterday he scolded me for taking on nine by myself and here he was storming the beaches of Normandy, alone. "I have to get back. I just wanted to check on Carl."
"Rick we can handle taking out the bodies," Glenn told him, standing up. "OK, you don't have to."
"No I do," he insisted. He made his way over to Daryl and I. "Everyone have a gun and a knife?"
Daryl looked at me before answering, "Yeah, we're running low on ammo though."
"Maggie, Alex and I were planning on making a run this afternoon." Daryl's eyes flicked to me, eyebrows raised in silent question and I suddenly found my bowl very, very interesting. Thanks for that Glenn. Totally buddy fucker that guy. "Found a phone book. Some places we can look for bullets and formula."
Bullets and formula. What a fucked up world we lived in.
"Cleared out the generator room," Daryl added. Suddenly I felt like a slacker. This must have happened while I was mourning at the graves. "Axel's there now tryin' to fix it just in case of emergency. We're gonna sweep the lower levels as well."
He sounded matter-of-fact, like they were clearing out the lower levels because it was something that had to be done which it did, but I knew better. He was hoping to find Carol, one way or another. The thought of her being dead was painfully enough. The thought of her walking around somewhere in the prison as one of those things made me want to vomit. We couldn't leave her like that. She deserved peace, but I couldn't work up the courage to go back down in The Tombs. It was part of the reason I volunteered for the run.
"Good, good," Rick told him, heading for the door.
"What about Nugget?" I asked, unable to keep my mouth shut or my voice civil.
His daughter was less than a foot away and he had yet to glance at her. Lori died so that little girl could live and if I had to handcuff him to the table until he acknowledged her so help me I would. He didn't stop at my question, and I stood up, ready to physical restrain him if needed, but Daryl's hand stopped me. His eyes held a note of sympathy, but the death grip on my arm was firm as he gave me a subtle shake of his head. Frustrated to no end I pulled my arm away, breathing hard as I paced the room. The sound of Rick's high heels against the concrete getting fainter and fainter as he ran away.
"He'll come around Alex," Hershel insisted.
"He's gonna come around now." I never wanted to set foot in that boiler room again, but this was ending, now.
Hershel took a calm breath, looking at me with understanding and patience that only served to infuriate me. "You can't force him."
"I can and I will," I promised, making my way to the door, but Nugget's cry stopped me, my shouting startling the sleeping baby. Beth rocked her, shushing her with quiet reassurance and the child settled almost immediately, but just like that the fight was sucked out of me, leaving me drained and more than a little hopeless.
"He doesn't blame you," the old man stated.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "It's not about that." But it was and everyone knew it. I needed to make this right.
"I'll go talk to him."
If anyone could reach Rick it was Hershel. If I went I would only make things worse and we would both end up bleeding. I was the last person he wanted to see right now other than Nugget. The reason he was a widower. I gave the old man an appreciative nod and made my way into the cellblock, my breakfast forgotten. Grabbing the railing I hopped up the stairs, skipping every other one on my way to the perch to grab a set of "clean" clothes and my pack before heading to the bathroom. The bucket of water next to the sink was cold but clean so I quickly stripped off all my clothes, taking a bird bath as quickly as I could. Folding up my soiled clothes I tossed them in the corner with the rest of the laundry pile before shrugging on the least disgusting pants and tank top at my disposal. When I looked at myself in the mirror I shuttered. So this was what busted looked like. Pulling my hair out of the pony tail I did my best to brush out the numerous knots and tangles with more than a few tears. Tossing the brush into my pack I dug out my last tube of toothpaste and my toothbrush. With my back against the sink, eyes glued to the floor, mind a million miles away I brushed my teeth with enough force to draw blood from my gums.
"Gonna tell me ya were goin' on a run?" I was so caught off guard I jumped a foot in the air, knocked all my toiletries off the sink and was halfway to throwing a knife at his head before I regained my senses.
"Jesus Christ Daryl!" I exclaimed, lowering the knife. "Sneaking up on people is gonna to get you killed one day." Like today.
"Made enough noise comin' down here to wake the dead."
I glared at him, "That's not funny."
He smirked, "Didn't answer my question."
"Yes mom, I was going to tell you." Lie. I was going to sneak off and deal with the fallout once I got back like the good, little avoider I was. He leaned against the door frame, looking way too hot for a man in desperate need of a shower. Why was it men got hotter when they were filthy? I saw what I looked like 20 minutes ago and that was not hot.
"I need some time away from here after..." I waved my arm around.
"I get it," he said, "Be careful." My eyes bulged at his nonchalance. This was some kind of trap.
"That's it?"
He uncrossed his arms looking at me funny. "The hell ya talkin' about?"
"You're not going to yell or scream or throw things?" When he just grinned at me it felt like the world was tilting on its axis. Was I dreaming? "You're not even going to threaten to shoot me with an arrow?"
"Bolt."
I groaned, "For the love of all things sacred." He actually laughed at that. "Why are you being weird?"
"Ain't bein' nothin'."
"OK first, that made no sense." I held up one finger to emphasize my point. "And two, this thing you got going on here." I pointed an accusing finger at him. "Isn't fooling me."
When he just stood there silently I started to get anxious. I gathered up all my toiletries, shoving them into my pack so I could get out of this fun house. The next thing out of his mouth was likely to be that the world had finally run out of ABCs and 123s, and I just couldn't handle anymore earth shattering revelations.
"You're freaking me out Legolas."
He grabbed my arm as I passed by, "Why?" He was laughing at me. That little redneck piece of shit was actually laughing at me.
"You don't get to be the sane one in this relationship buddy." I poked my finger into his chest and tried not to wince. Would it kill the guy to have a fat cell? "I'm the semi-rationale one. You're the...the...other one."
He did laugh this time, but only for a moment before he kissed me and I forgot what we were talking about. He backed us up against the wall and my pack slipped from my fingers as my arms went around his neck. He braced his arms on either side of my head, nipping and sucking to the point I lost consciousness. The kiss was over too soon, but then again any kiss that didn't end in the horizontal mambo was too soon in my book. He shot me a smug smirk as I blinked at him like a drunken owl before he turned on his heel, striding down the hallway.
"See ya again Red!" I tilted my head to side, licking my lips as I stared at his ass in a lust filled daze.
"This side or the other," I mumbled, my brain cells misfiring. I was a sucker for the way he moved. He was a drug I craved and that ass, damn, it was like nicotine, heroine and ecstasy all wrapped into one perfect denim package.
"Heard that!" he yelled from around the corner and I slapped a hand over my mouth. Ears like a fucking wolverine.
Half an hour later I sat in the back of the suburban absently staring out the window as Maggie and Glenn chatted quietly in the front seat. I couldn't get last night out of my head. I swore I could still feel Daryl's hands on my body, his lips as they traced every curve of my skin so excruciatingly slow it was equal parts torture and bliss. I could hear the way he breathed my name like a prayer as he moved above me. My mouth watered just thinking about it and I was sweating bullets which was not sexy. A supermodel couldn't pull of pit stains and I was no supermodel. I held my arms out at my side to help with ventilation. His sexiness was distracting as hell. I'd be lucky if I made it through the day without impaling myself with my own knife.
"Alright, what's up?" Glenn asked, eyeing me in the rear view mirror. "That's the tenth time you've moaned like that and why do you keep touching your lips? Are you sick?" Maggie snorted and I kicked the back of her seat. That really got her going as her boyfriend looked between us, clueless.
"She's not sick honey."
"Maggie," I warned.
She turned around in the seat, raising her eyebrows at me and I knew there was no hope. She probably even saw the panties on the window. I was screwed. That settled it. I was jumping out of the car. I reached for the door handle and heard the distinct click of the locks just as my hand touched the handle. I glared at Glenn, taking two fingers and slowly pointing them at my eyes then at him.
You.
Me.
Later.
"If you aren't sick why do you look so flushed?" This sent Maggie into another fit of giggles that made me want to strangle her with my pit stained tank top.
"Glenn, it's a good thing you're so freakin' adorable," I muttered, looking out the window with a huff. Clearly picking up on social cues was not his thing.
"Seriously, what am I missing?"
Maggie patted his shoulder, "Honey did you see Daryl or Alex in the cellblock last night?" I exhaled sharply, trying the door handle again. This looked like as good a place as any to die.
"No." He still didn't get it. This was painful. Like a root canal without the happy gas.
"Right," she confirmed waiting for it to click but when a full minute passed and he was still frowning even she sighed. "They were up in the guard tower."
I let my head fall back against the seat, covering my face with my hands. Was fuck off an emotion? Because right now, I felt it deep in my soul.
"Oh. Oh. Oh!" he exclaimed, finally, his voice rising in pitch every time he said it. The car swerved violently to the left and I was thrown across the seat into the door as Maggie yelped, holding onto the 'oh shit' bar above her seat. "Sorry."
"I'm walking home," I declared.
"Not so funny when you're on the receiving end, is it?" she gloated.
I sent a glare at the back of her head, "Being a dick won't make his any bigger."
"Hey!" Glenn shouted as Maggie turned around, reaching for me in the backseat looking a little too crazy for my taste. She swatted at me and I curled into a ball, moving towards the door to stay out of her reach. "Stop it you two!"
If she started hair pulling it was on. When she lunged at me with her velociraptor talons I put my hands up, screaming, "OK, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it. Please stop, I haven't had my tetanus shot this year!"
"Not helping Alex!" Glenn yelled over the mayhem, trying to restrain his girlfriend and drive neither of which he was doing well. When actual foam starting dripping from the corner of her mouth I started to fear for my life.
"I'm sorry!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and she stopped, watching me like the witch doctor she was. I stayed absolutely still. Afraid if I breathed wrong she'd bring the crazy again. When she nodded at me once, settling back into her seat I collapsed against mine. And people thought I was OOC.
Glenn pulled to a stop in the main drag of the small town we were scouting. The windows of all the stores were boarded up, graffiti spray painted on the concrete buildings and even a few cars. Nothing said classy like, 'The End is Near, Have Sex!'. Words to live by, truly. Climbing out of the suburban I pulled my weapon checking the immediate area for any danger. I didn't see anything, unless you considered copious amounts of trash and sketchy advice dangerous.
"Someone's a litterbug," I commented as the wind blew a piece of cardboard in front of me, "This place looks like my bedroom when I was in high school."
Maggie pulled her own weapon, looking around. "Your room was full of trash, men's clothing and shopping carts?"
I shrugged, "I know how to have a good time." Spring Break 2001 in da house!
She laughed, shaking her head at me as she circled the car heading for Glenn. "We're all clear outside."
"Alright, let's take a look." Glenn already had his backpack on and a pair of bolt cutters in his hand for the chains securing the doors.
"Keep an eye out for sunscreen." Both of them turned to me. "What? I have very sensitive alabaster skin."
"You are a little pale," Glenn commented.
"Pale? I'm not pale. I'm translucent." I blamed it on my Irish-American heritage. At this point my skin color being considered eggshell would be a step up. The summer months were always torture. While others basked in the sun's rays I hide in the shade. I didn't do tan. I did deathly pale or deathly burned. There was no middle ground. Even now I could feel the skin on my arms and neck sizzling like a burger on a flat top.
"You got it," Glenn promised as Maggie made her way to him.
"Hey," she whispered before leaning forward and pecking his lips. That was bad enough, but when he cupped her face in his hands and starting licking her I shut my eyes before I went blind.
"Please try to keep it PG." I turned around, squinting against the sun. I'd rather risk the sunburn to my corneas than watch them swap spit. Crossing the street I headed towards the stores lining the opposite side of the road.
"Stay close," Glenn yelled and I gave him a thumbs up without turning around. Some things just couldn't be unseen.
I picked the lock on the door to a sporting goods store, swinging it open carefully, scanning the interior. It smelled stale and dingy, but the putrid stench of the dead was absent. Either there weren't any walkers inside or they were very conscientious of their BO.
It only took me a few minutes to clear the small store. A quick scan of the shelves and cases by the cash register proved fruitless unless we planned on starting a dodge ball team. If so, we hit the motherload. Along with an assortment of athletic equipment the store sold guns and ammo but the ones in plain sight had long since been looted so I made my way to the manager's office, slowly walking around the tiny room. The desk drawers were wide open and empty save a few pens and paper. There was a lone bookshelf in the corner with books, discarded manuals, binders, and rows and rows of family photos.
Stopping in the center of the room I examined it with a critical eye. Almost all the abandoned cars in the street had gun racks in the back window or NRA stickers on the bumper. We were in the heart of the south where gun ownership was practically a birthright. The chances were good the manager of the store kept a personal stash in his office for safety. I just had to find it and hope someone else hadn't beaten me to the punch.
The obvious places had all been checked, but that was thing about hiding places, they were rarely in obvious places. Not the good ones anyway. A painting on the wall caught my eye. I cocked my head to the side as I studied the cheap knockoff of Vincent van Gogh's, The Starry Night. Walking over I stopped in front of it, eyebrows scrunched. This thing belonged here about as much as Anna Nicole Smith at a rehab meeting. Tapping the wall surrounding the frame I heard a distinct hollow sound and grinned. Grabbing the painting I lifted it off the wall uncovering a hidden combination wall safe.
Bingo.
Now I needed to crack it. With the right tools, enough time and some C4 just in case this would be a non-issue. Unfortunately I didn't have any of those things. Turning on my heel I made my way back to the desk, rummaging through the drawers and papers until I found an old weekly planner underneath a destroyed computer keyboard. Flipping through the pages it was obvious whoever ran this place was old school, opting for paper over computers programs and apps for scheduling, correspondence and invoicing.
A day in May caught my eye, the neat handwriting on the 16th a stark contrast to the hastily scribbled notes going every which way on all the other pages. In huge, bold, carefully written letters was a reminder that was circled a few dozen.
20 Year Anniversary. Don't forget to pick up gift for Linda! Dinner at 6 p.m.
My eyes flicked back to the bookcase. A framed picture of an older man with his arm around a much shorter woman with slightly graying hair in a french braid stared back at me. She was laughing when the picture was taken, her eyes locked on her husband, her head thrown back, hands grasping his shirt as he gazed down at her with loving eyes. They looked happy and they were probably dead.
Dragging my eyes away from the picture I flipped the calendar over, looking for the year. I quickly did the math in my head before returning to the safe and twisting the dial, entering the couples wedding date as the combination. When I entered the last number I heard a soft click and smiled, pulling down on the handle as the door to the safe swung open. There was mortgage paperwork, bonds, and investments. All useless in today's world. The two handguns and boxes of ammunition were a different story. Those would pay the bills for a few weeks. It certainly wouldn't cure our shortage, but there were at least a dozen 50-round boxes and something was a hell of a lot better than nothing. The two additional handguns were just icing on the cake.
I left the store, my pack heavy on my shoulders as stepped into the street, making my way back to the vehicle. I could see Maggie carrying a basket that I sincerely hoped was filled with formula and maybe a bottle of sunscreen, but before I made it halfway across the street a voice called out from behind them.
"And where is it y'all good people are callin' home?!" The man had a gun pointed at them and I froze, drawing my own as I aimed it at him. The cold steel of a muzzle being pushed against the side of my head stopped me before I could squeeze the trigger.
"Long time no see Red." I cursed my sloppy, distracted behavior. The fact someone like him was able to get the jump on me was unacceptable. I put my hands up in surrender, glancing over my shoulder as Luke leaned forward taking my PPQ.
"Hey Lucy, you're not dead after all. I was so worried," I lied, my voice dripping in sarcasm. "It's too bad about Danny and Matt." His smirk transformed into a scowl and I winked at him. Because I was irrevocably fucked up there was a very large part of me that was happy he was still breathing. Now I could kill him myself.
"Keep your hands where I can see them or so help me I'll splatter your brain all over this road," he threatened, pushing me forward.
Given my current situation I had no choice but to do as I was told. Glenn and Maggie had their weapons pointed at the stranger in front of them, and had yet to see me or Lucy. I could hear the two men exchanging words, but was too far away to hear. Luke walked us forward slowly, too scared to even let the muzzle of the weapon leave the side of my skull for a moment. He angled us closer to his companion and further away from my friends. We rounded a truck and the man standing across from Glenn and Maggie let loose a rumbling, belly aching laugh. My face scrunched up, the sound tickling something in the back of my mind, a memory just out of reach, but that didn't make sense. I had never laid eyes on this man, but I recognized his laugh and his accent. Why? It wasn't just the southern drawl. Almost everyone had one of those in these parts. It was his word choice, tone, even the way he drew out certain phrases that was eerily familiar. Luke shoved me forward one final time and we were out in the open. Glenn's eyes went wide and Maggie's mouth dropped open the moment they spotted us.
My sole focus was the newcomer and now that I had an unobstructed view of him I almost fainted from shock. His face was covered in blood from a broken nose, a week old beard covering his face, and his white hair was buzzed closed to his scalp, but none of that was what sucked the air out of my lungs making it difficult to breath. None of that meant anything. It was his eyes that held me transfixed. The deep, blue crystal eyes hauntingly familiar. Those I knew. My head swam with dizziness as the implications of who I was standing in front of set it. My gaze fell to his left hand or where his left hand should have been. Instead there was a crude contraption strapped on his stub with a knife tapped on the end. The minuscule shred of hope I harbored this was not who I thought it was evaporated instantly. There was no mistaking his identity.
Merle Dixon. Daryl's brother. That was, unless there was another unhinged, crude, redneck with only one arm running around Georgia. I wasn't holding my breath.
"And who's this firecracker?" he hollered, grinning at me as I stood there in stunned disbelief. What were the chances? I wasn't sure, but they were somewhere in the realm of astronomical. "Like what ya see honey?"
I blinked at him, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut momentarily before opening them again, hoping in vein to change what I was seeing. No luck. He was still there and still very much Daryl's brother. Well, this day was turning into a real clusterfuck.
"Get on your knees," Luke barked at me, his foot kicking me in my right leg as I stumbled forward.
I shot a glare over my shoulder, "You really want to do this again? Didn't work out so well for you last time."
Merle hooted with enjoyment. "Hot damn, this is her?! I thought yur pansy ass was full 'o shit when you came back hollerin' 'bout some red-headed ninja bitch."
While I took exception to the bitch part on principle I wasn't going to argue with the ninja. That was spot on.
"Alex," Glenn said and I looked to him, giving him a small shake of my head as I got on my knees. The last thing I needed was one of them trying to play hero and getting themselves killed. Luke roughly grabbed my wrists, pulling them behind my back and securing them with a zip tie.
"Someone's learning," I taunted and he pulled on the zip tie hard, the plastic binding cutting into my wrists as I hissed in pain. "Someone's also still on their period."
This sent Merle into another fit of laughter and I got the distinct impression there was little to nothing he didn't find funny. He lobbed insults at Lucy while keeping his gun aimed at Glenn and Maggie.
"Merle, you don't want to do this..."
"Glenn," I cut him off.
He pleaded with me and I narrowed my eyes in warning, hoping he understood the message to keep his mouth shut. Knowledge was power and we didn't need to arm our enemies with any more firepower. Obviously Merle knew I was with his brother's group by virtue of being found with them, but he didn't know what I was to his him. Volunteering that kind of information was handing them a loaded gun they could point directly at our heads, and I already had that covered. Merle shuffled closer to me as Luke reached down to my boots pulling out the knives I kept hidden there. Jeez, stab someone one time with a hidden blade and they never got over it. He walked around to face me, slowly unfastened the sheath at my waist containing the rest of my knives and pulling it off, sneaking a not so subtle at my cleavage and I rolled my eyes. Some things never change.
"How's your hand? You able to open your own ketchup bottles yet?" His face turned bright red as he reared back and punched me in the jaw with a right hook. My head snapped to side, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth. Turning my head back to him I opened and closed my jaw experimentally before gathering a mouthful of blood and spitting it on his boots. "Still hit like a bitch Lucy."
"Oh damn, I like this one," Merle smiled, his eyes crazed, but not by drugs. He wasn't high. He was just a lunatic. "If you make it outta this alive Firecracker you and I could have a real sweet time." I turned to him, my face filled with horror but not for the reasons he thought. "Oh, yeah, I bet ya like what ya see, huh?"
He waggled his eyebrows at me, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth like a snake and I frowned. Was he having some kind of seizure? Apparently the infamous Dixon sex appeal was doled out sparingly.
"If I had a dog that looked like you I'd make it walk backwards after I shaved it," I replied, chin held high.
Luke froze beside me. I heard Glenn mutter curse, taking a step forward as Maggie swallowed nervously. Everyone waited to see what Merle would do, but for a moment he didn't do anything. He just looked at me with a bewildered expression as I stared back, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. Slowly a smile started tugging at the corner of his lips before he tipped his head back, slapping Luke on the back so hard the man almost fell. Luke Cage my left tit.
"What the hell ya talkin' 'bout?" He was laughing like a maniac. All the stories I heard about the man didn't do him justice. I couldn't blame them. Describing this level of insanity was like trying to finger paint the Sistine Chapel, not happening.
"Did I get it right?" I asked, genuinely curious. It hadn't sounded right, but then again, redneck never sounded right to me.
"Hell no!" My shoulders sagged. Shit. I was on a roll lately. A roll being I got one right the other day. This was gonna kill my average. Merle pivoted on his heel, pointing his weapon at Glenn and Maggie, "We're all gonna load up in this here car and take a little ride."
Glenn's face hardened. "I already told you, we aren't taking you to him."
"No ya ain't. I'm takin' y'all." My stomach seized in fear. I did not like the sound of that one bit.
"Take me," I suggested, trying to fake disinterest, drawing Merle's attention back to me. "It's time I moved on anyway."
He eyed me for a beat before shaking his stubby arm at me, the knife strapped to the end bobbing like a finger that knew my secret. "And why would I do that Firecracker?"
"Why bother with three when all you need is one?" I kept a bored look on my face. "I owed them, but saving the love birds makes us square. I'll tell you what you want to know."
Lie.
I would tell him a whole bunch of shit, but never the truth. By the time I was done unloading false information and half-truths they'd be chasing their tales until the end of days. I was a master of deceit. A virtual savant at creating a web of lies that tied my victims in knots.
"Bullshit," Luke sneered. "You won't sell them out. You didn't do it at the warehouse and you won't do it now."
I looked at him with a sad shake of my head, "Oh Lucy, so simple minded. What makes you think this group is the same one that saved me from the warehouse?"
Merle's eyes shifted to Luke as he awaited the answer. An answer Luke couldn't give because he didn't know. He never saw my rescuers because he had tucked tail and ran to save his own skin.
He shifted his weight nervously. "Why would they go through the trouble of saving you just to leave you?"
"Loyalty only goes so far when a heard unexpectedly blows through your group. You did your job well enough. I couldn't keep up so I got left behind."
He looked unsure as his eyes bobbed between me and Merle. The one armed redneck was quiet for once as he considered me, eyes scrutinizing and far more aware than I would have liked. He was checking my story for holes.
"How long ya been with my brother's group?"
"Few weeks," I shrugged, "Helped me out of a tight spot and you know how Officer Grimes is, couldn't bear the thought of leaving a lone woman behind."
That was categorically untrue, at least now. A year ago that was exactly who the former cop was, but we buried that man back at the Greene farm along with Sophia and Dale. There was a coldness to him now, an emptiness, a harshness that made who he used to be a distant memory. The man who would have once risked his life for a stranger was now more likely to put a bullet in their brain before they could finish their hello, but Merle didn't know that.
"'Cept for when he's handcuffin' people and leavin' 'em for dead," he ground out.
"Well, there is that." I kept my voice light like the story held no weight, something I'd heard in passing, but cared little about. It wasn't hard to fake. I honestly didn't care. "I've heard the story. Guess it was a good thing he didn't find me on a roof."
Merle licked his lips and for a moment I thought I had him. Thought his need for vengeance against Rick would outweigh his desire to find his brother, but the moment his eyes flicked to Glenn I knew we were screwed.
"I got unfinished business with Officer Friendly, but seein' as how he ain't here the Chinaman's gonna have to do." He turned to the pair. "Now why dontcha put yur weapon's on the ground nice and easy."
The danger we were facing turned my blood to ice as I watched my friend's faces pale. Their hands were shaking as they held their weapons, unsure of what to do. They should leave, plain and simple. With me out of the fight it was two against two and Merle wanted to find his brother too bad to risk killing his only link to him. Glenn eye's drifted to me and I mouthed the word "Go". He frowned and I silently mouthed it again pointedly looking at Maggie. I could take care of myself, would be able to handle whatever came next, but the same couldn't be said for them.
Merle might not have the Dixon sexiness, but he certainly had the lack of patience. With a huff of frustration he whirled around, the sound of a gun firing a stark contrast to the silence that proceeded it. It took my brain a second to register what was happening as a bullet tore through my arm with such velocity it knocked me to the ground. I didn't feel the pain at first, too busy trying to process the fact Daryl's brother shot me. This was going to make family get-togethers awkward.
The searing pain of the flesh wound snapped the world back into focus so quickly it made my head spin. I was on my side, hot, sticky blood running down my arm and mixing with the dirt on the road. I took slow deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. It wasn't bad, hardly fatal, but it served its purpose. I heard Maggie and Glenn screaming as they surrendered their only advantage, their weapons, putting them on the ground.
"How's your arm?" Luke goaded, bending over and zip tying my feet as I clenched my lips together against the pain. I didn't bother with answering, my mind working overtime as I tried to figure out how to keep us all alive. I wasn't worried about myself. I'd been through a Governor inspired questions and answer session so I knew what to expect. Maggie and Glenn were hilariously unprepared for what was coming. Separately they might be able to hold out for a short period of time, but sooner or later everybody broke. Torture only had two roads, information or death. All it would take to break my two, sweet, disgustingly in love friends would be a threat against the other.
"Pick her up," Merle ordered.
I heard their boots on the road as they made their way to me. Maggie's was crying as the two of them slipped their hands under my arms, lifting me up. I groaned as the wound on my arm pulled and stretched painfully. Glenn stumbled over more apologies than I could count as they drug me to the vehicle, trying not to hurt me.
"Put her in the back." They sat me on the tailgate, Maggie helping me swing my legs up into the back. I shifted, scooting further back as Glenn watched me.
"Are you OK?" he whispered quickly. Luke and Merle were headed this way, guns aimed at their backs.
"Yeah."
"Alright Chinaman, yur with me in the front," Merle flicked his gun towards him with an expectant expression and he reluctantly moved away. "Dontcha worry, my friend here will take real good care of yur girlfriend."
Luke grinned at Maggie and I pulled against the zip ties in vain. I only succeeded in digging the restraints further into the already torn skin at my wrist, but the look on Luke's face made me frantic. He motioned for her to get in the car. She took one more look at me before disappearing.
"Lie down," he ordered, pointing the gun at my head.
When I obeyed without comment he grinned before slamming the door closed. I heard the engine start and felt the vibrations of the car as Glenn pulled away. The ride to their compound was made in silence, as I scrambled to find a way out of this. My arm throbbed with its own heartbeat. My wrist burning as blood trickled from various wounds. My body was jostled in the back as we drove and I was unable to brace myself due to my restraints, but I found comfort in the pain. It helped center me, kept me calm, alert. Pain was an old friend, and it was nothing if not reliable. Focusing on the pain was better than the focusing on the terror. Fear wouldn't get us out of this.
Most people feared pain, physical, emotional, mental, it didn't matter. We weren't built to withstand it, not for any amount of time. We were built to yield to it. I learned a long time ago to not only ignore it, but draw strength from it. I began my life in the shadows where pain blossomed. I taught myself how to thrive in it, to revel in its subtle complexity. It didn't stop the hurt, but the hurt was useful. It let you know you were still alive. My father taught me my first lesson in pain and it was simple.
It was better to feel pain than nothing at all.
He's baaack!
Gotta say, I love Merle's character. Michael Rooker is awesome in just about every role and this is no exception. I'm excited to write Merle and hope I do him justice. He's such a wildcard I feel like the possibilities with him are endless.
Are you guys excited about what's coming? I hope so. Lately it feels like this story maybe isn't doing as well (?). I've just noticed a big decline in readers, but I'm hoping it's just life getting in the way of the things we want to do...like read TWD fanfic all day. LOL
Thanks to everyone who is sticking with it. I have tons more and hope there is still interest.