Daryl

When the first screams came from inside the room, Daryl's first thought was that the beer bellied skunk that they had dragged in, had somehow gotten lose and was letting rip on one of the girls. It only took him a split second to register that the screaming was coming from a man, and that his voice was the only one he could hear. He put an arm out to restrain Dale, who had placed his hand on the door handle in alarm.

"What're you doing? Can't you hear that...?" Daryl didn't respond. He had an idea of what was happening in the room, and he wasn't about to stop it. Whatever the girls were doing, it probably wasn't painful enough in his opinion. He placed his ear to the door and tried to make out what was being said, but it was almost impossible to hear the words, only the shrieks and screams. Dale went for the door handle again.

"This is insane, Daryl. They're torturing him, they're taking it too far!" Daryl looked at the old man in disbelief.

"If ya got any better ideas on how ta find out where they've taken T-Dog an Rick, let's hear em old man." Dale didn't say anything. Daryl scowled and went back to listening at the door. He didn't care about what was right or wrong at this point. He didn't care if the old man thought that what Georgie and Adele were doing was cruel or whatever bull he came up with. As long as they found out where T-Dog was, they could cut the bastards balls off with a pair of pliers as far as he was concerned.

Daryl hadn't counted on making friends with anyone in the camp when he had first arrived with Merle, however long ago it had been. As soon as he had seen T-Dog, Andrea, Amy, Morales and his family, he knew he couldn't afford to make friends if he wanted to keep Merle under control. Just keeping his comments about using dark meat for bait, and steering him away from harassing the women took up half Daryl's time. But of course, Merles attitude was soon picked up by the rest of the camp and Daryl was tainted by association. The Dixon brothers were left mainly to themselves, tolerated because Daryl could hunt and bring in food for the camp. But socialising was off the cards. Once, Morales had struck up a conversation with Daryl about where he'd learnt to shoot. Daryl wasn't much of a conversationalist, but Morales was easy to talk to. That was, until he'd spotted Merle watching them, a face like thunder. Daryl had abruptly ended the conversation, leaving Morales in no doubt that he wasn't interested in speaking to him anymore. That hadn't stopped Merle trying to land a few flying punches to his face later that evening.

When Merle had been left on the roof in Atlanta, Daryl had been angry, but also on some level, relieved that he wasn't going to have to babysit his brother anymore. Then, he'd felt guilty for feeling that way, and that had added into his anger, making him hate everyone even more. But, that feeling had quickly passed, and he had gotten use to just how easy life was without Merle. Well, as easy as life got with the dead walking around. But he was still alone.

When Georgie and T-Dog had come back for him at the complex, when they had told him they did it because they were family, Daryl had at first felt a sense of obligation, that he had to look out for them both because they had saved him. The more time he had spent with the pair of them however, the more he'd actually liked and respected them. And now T-Dog was in danger, and Daryl was determined to go after him. Not because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to. And if Georgie needed to cross a few lines to enable him to do so, he would step back and let her do it.

Suddenly, the room went silent. Daryl heard two sets of footsteps coming towards the door. They were heavy, slow, almost weary. He stepped back from the door, and felt, rather than saw, Dale and Andrea do the same. The door opened, and Adele and then Georgie came into the hallway. Andrea took a sharp intake of breath. Both girls were carrying knives, caked in blood. Daryl didn't have to think hard to guess whose. Blood was splattered over their clothes, some on Georgie's face. She saw Daryl looking and almost self consciously used the sleeve of her shirt to attempt to wipe her face.

"Did you learn anything?" Dale's voice dripped with disapproval. Daryl bristled with annoyance. Did the old man think that being nice would work on the nut job that was tied up in the room? Adele nodded.

"He gave us a location, and directions on how to get there." Dale didn't look convinced.

"And you believe him? People will say anything to stop people hurting them." Daryl glared at Dale. Before he could give him a piece of his mind, Georgie spoke. Her voice was quieter than usual, but her tone was firm.

"We told him if it wasn't the right place, we'd come back and spend another ten minutes with him. It's the right place Dale."

"So he's still alive?" Dale went to open the door, but Adele blocked it from him.

"Don't go in there. No-one is to go in there until we get back." Dale looked furious.

"That is a human life in there. No matter what he's done, you can't stoop to his level, you can't..." he motioned at the knives in the girls hands. " You can't torture and mutilate. He could need medical attention, he could bleed to death..."

"Trust me," Adele interrupted the old man. "He won't." She lowered her voice, glancing over Dale's shoulder, where Carl and Glenn were watching them anxiously. "Tell you what Dale, whilst you agonise over our moral conduct, think about Rick and T-Dog being hacked apart bit by bit and eaten whilst they're still alive. Because that's how they prevent being infected by the disease. He told us." She leaned back and motioned to Georgie as they moved down the stairs. Daryl paused just long enough get satisfaction from the look of shock on Dales face and then followed them down.

"Daryl!" Daryl gave a inwards groan as he heard the Chinaman call his name. He stopped halfway down the stairs and turned to see Glenn half jog towards him.

"You're not going with them?" Daryl snorted

"Hell I'm not. T-Dog's out there. He'd come for me, I'm goin' fur him." Glenn looked horrified.

"But, your shoulder...you can't"

"Ta hell with my shoulder." Daryl moved down the stairs, where Georgie and Adele were cleaning off their knives with pieces of table cloth from the restaurant.

"Daryl." Glenn ran down the stairs and grabbed Daryl's good shoulder. "You're better with this then I am." He handed over the shotgun and ammunition he had been using. "It might be better on your shoulder too." Daryl looked down at the gun and then back at Glenn.

"Thanks Chinaman."

"Still Korean."

As Daryl entered the reception area with the shot gun slung over his good shoulder, both girls looked up at him.

"There is no way..." Adele started, but Georgie put her hand up to quieten her.

"Don't waste your breath." She looked at Daryl. "He'll come whether we say he can or not. How's the shoulder?" Daryl grunted and shrugged it, making an effort to hide the burning pain in his shoulder. Georgie was right, he would be going. Whether he was with them, or following them at a distance. Adele sighed and stood up.

"That...man, said they were a little way into the forest, to the left. About fifteen minutes." Daryl grimaced. So close and none of them had noticed. "He said Rick and T-Dog would still be alive. But..." She trailed off, but her meaning was clear. What state the two would be in was debatable. He loaded the shot gun.

"Well. What the hell we waitin' for? Let's go."