The Beginning Of The End
Over a decade of following Merle aimlessly around from one shithole backwater hillbilly town to another and here he was, sitting in front of the junk tv he'd picked up at a pawn store for his grungy, on the wrong side of the tracks apartment he and Merle were staying in. He'd sat up most of the night, nervously checking his phone every so often. They'd been in this particular hellhole for four months and Daryl figured that by Merle's schedule the shit would hit the fan any day now and either they'd slip out in the middle of the night or he would get a call from the local jail where Merle would be locked up. He hadn't gotten any call, but his gut was clenching and he felt as if every nerve in his body was on high alert. He hadn't been able to sleep in a few days-less anyway than his normal five or six hours, and he'd felt skittish and on edge.
Now here he was, watching the tv with his mouth hanging open like a little kid. He had unconsciously gone through almost an entire pack of cigarettes in the time he'd been watching, lighting one right from another. The beer he'd pulled from the fridge had been forgotten as he sat on the edge of a chair he'd pulled almost on top of the tv.
The door opening made him jump, and he turned and half rose out of his seat as Merle came in -shockingly more sober than Daryl had seen him in a good long while. Merle nodded at the tv and gave a low whistle.
"Seen what's goin' on then, baby brother?" Merle said as he ambled over to stand beside Daryl and stare at the tv screen. Daryl nodded silently and sat back down on the edge of the chair. "Caught some of it at a bar. Everyone in there quit drinking or speaking. Dropped their pool cues and crowded round the bar to watch. Bartender turned the sound up and someone yanked the jukebox cord outta the wall." Merle sighed pensively and rubbed his hand over his face. "Shit's bad Daryl," and Daryl flinched at the sound of his name coming out of his brother's mouth. Merle only called him his name when the situation was dire. Daryl found himself looking up at Merle just as he had when he'd been so much younger.
"What do we do?" Daryl asked and Merle glanced sharply at Daryl's face and saw Daryl looking up at him with that look he'd had as a kid and their dad was on the warpath. It both irritated him and made him feel proud at the same time-Daryl was grown, he should figure this out with Merle instead of asking Merle what they should do. At the same time Merle was proud that as much of a fuck up as he'd been all these years, Daryl still looked to him for guidance.
Merle nodded at the tv. "We sit tight for a bit. Watch the news, see what more we can find out. But we also pack anything we may need-weapons, money, food, clothes. We'll pack the back of your truck and put a tarp over it and keep an eye on it so that if and when we gotta leave we just leave." Merle looked at Daryl and Daryl attempted to swallow in a suddenly dry throat and nodded back. Then Merle pulled up a chair beside Daryl and sat down and they turned to watch the news.
The next morning Merle slapped Daryl's shoulder and shouted for him to rise and shine. "Wake up baby brother, got me an idea while I watched that shitshow last night," Merle smirked. Daryl sat up uncertainly, rubbing his hands over his face and reaching for a cigarette.
"What's that?" Daryl mumbled as he lit the cigarette, drew in deeply and blew out a ring of smoke.
"Well, folks are packing up and leaving in a hurry." Daryl nodded in agreement. "Watched last night and seen all the abandoned houses, businesses…" Daryl squinted up at Merle, feeling sick to his stomach. He knew where this was going. "Banks, brother. Banks. Just sittin' there empty. We could swoop in and clean em out. No one to stop us." Merle's smirk turned to an outright grin, his eyes dancing happily.
Daryl sighed and shook his head. "Merle, things is bad enough. Don't need to rob no banks and get stuck in prison somewhere. Probly left to rot," Daryl blew out another ring of smoke and sighed wearily.
Merle's look turned quickly to a glare. "Bullshit. No one's watching them banks. Ain't no one to stop us. We can pick em clean. Then when the dust settles we'll be sittin' pretty. No more strugglin' or worries. We'll have us a big ol nest egg. Hell, we can probly take our pick of any big house and set up in it as well. We can do whatever we want now, no one to tell us otherwise," Merle growled, increasingly agitated at Daryl's lack of enthusiasm.
Daryl shook his head again. "Goddamit Merle, I ain't robbin' no damn banks," he rasped. "If shits as bad as they're saying on the tv, that money ain't gonna do us no good. And you don't know that no ones watching the banks…"
Before Daryl could finish, Merle had grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up to stand. Merle began shaking Daryl roughly and Daryl stumbled-shocked at the sudden violence in Merle. He'd learned to read Merle years ago, and could see when a temper tantrum was building up. He'd learned to avoid Merle if at all possible when he could sense the rage and frustration about to explode and if couldn't avoid Merle he'd learned to be silent and keep his head ducked down and his fists up to ward off the blows that always came. He'd learned Merle was no different than their father in that respect-when Will Dixon or Merle were angry at the world for stymying their plans they took their anger out on the first object that came to view-couch, door, wall or human. This though, this had come out of nowhere and Daryl had no idea what to say to get Merle settled back down.
Merle leaned in until he was nose to nose with Daryl. "Now you listen to me baby brother. I ain't riding the end of the world out the way I been since I can remember. I ain't goin' hungry, not livin' in a shithole, not driving a vehicle bout to fall apart. While everyone else is runnin' round like they heads been cut off, I aim to be smart about all this and set us up right. And you sure as hell are gonna do this with me. Do you understand me?" Merle gave one last rough shake and pushed Daryl so that his legs struck the couch and he sat down suddenly. "Do. You. Understand. Me." Merle whispered, and Daryl nodded wordlessly. He felt just like he had all those years his father had bullied and beat him-he had no choice but to agree to whatever Merle was suggesting because there would be no mercy shown him if he continued to argue against the idea. His stomach clenched and he felt a cold sweat start to trickle down his back.
Merle nodded and lit a cigarette and smiled-it was if there had been no argument. Merle had gotten what he wanted and he was happy and now everyone could breathe again and the world was right according to Merle. Just like his father. Daryl cursed himself inwardly yet again for having ever left that dump to follow Merle around the state of Georgia like some mindless animal. He leaned forward and clenched his fists and grit his teeth to keep from giving voice to his great unhappiness.
"Alright, so get up and get ready to go. I been scoutin' some places out. We can go see what we can find. And take whatever you want from here-we ain't comin' back to this shithole," and Merle dropped his cigarette on the filthy floor and ground it out. Daryl nodded and stood and strode to the bathroom to take a piss and gather whatever meager belongings he had left to pack.