A/N: I'm so sorry for being so late with this update. I had a lot of things come up in the last week, but I'm back now and hopefully regularly updating about every other day like before. Thank you all so much for your patience and support! :)


She shifted quietly, hugging one arm around the slender trunk of the pine she'd climbed. The sweet smelling sap stuck to her skin and clothing. The bark was rough under her palm, scratching at her skin. and leaving amber smears across her fingers. The sun was already starting to set, its glow turning the sky the color of orange sherbet as it set over the mountain behind them. Their trek over the peak had been slow, and hard. The terrain was rocky, pocked with holes and dips from the sandstone that'd been eroded loose, some of them dangerously camouflaged by thick clumps of underbrush. She'd have broken an ankle or worse if Daryl hadn't grabbed her by the arm and stopped her from walking headlong into one.

Beth shifted again, squinting as she strained to see beyond the treetops, down to the road she knew curved below them. Carefully, she leaned closer to the trunk, hoping that the thick needles would obscure any potential glare from the binoculars she lifted to her eyes. With the sun at her back, it was unlikely there'd be any reflection, but it was better to be safe. Her breath pushed past her parted lips harshly.

She could barely make out the thick canvas tops that covered the back of the trucks, but they were there. If she could have recalled the words, she'd have cursed. What was that one that Daryl said so much?

Fuck.

She repeated it out loud, low and sincere as she dropped the binoculars back to her chest and started to climb down. The bottom of her boots touched earth and she turned to see Aaron with his back set against the trunk beside her. Her eyes immediately searched for Daryl, finding him pacing back and forth in a deceptively lazy lope between two other trees across from them. His thumb nail was between his teeth and his crossbow was held tightly in the other hand, pointed down. Tension screamed from him, in the set of his shoulders and the whiteness of his knuckles around the stock of his weapon. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she stepped to him and he paused in his circuit, staring at her with a narrowed gaze.

"Trucks," she murmured, pointing down the mountain. "Several of 'em."

"Shit," Daryl swore, turning from her and starting to pace again.

Beth exchanged a look with Aaron. They were exhausted, all three of them. As slow as they'd been getting over the mountain, they still felt dogged. No overt signs of pursuit, no prickle at the back of her neck signalling that they were being watched, but there was an uncomfortable sensation between her shoulder blades, an instinctive certainty that appearances were just that, and that danger was lurking just beyond the reach of her physical senses. The urge to continually glance over her shoulder was nearly overwhelming, and she had to fight not to indulge it every couple of heartbeats.

Aaron's gaze was sharp from his position against the tree, following Daryl's restless movements. "They're herding us."

It was their fears put into words, she could tell by the swoop in her own belly and the way Daryl's shoulders stiffened.

"No shit," he growled, dropping his hand from his mouth. He came to the end of his stride and stopped to stare down the mountain.

Beth fingered the knife at her belt, tapping it with one blunt nail as she braced a hip against the pine behind her. The likelihood that the other roads leading out of the valley would be blocked was damn near a certainty. They could circumvent them, but it'd add days, if not an entire week for them to get back to the safe zone. And there was no guarantee that they wouldn't be hounded every step of the way. If there was even a slim chance that these people had trackers, the risk existed that they'd lead them right back to Alexandria. Aaron and Daryl knew it too, or it'd at least occurred to them. They wouldn't have been quite as reluctant to make a move if it hadn't.

She wanted to let out a growl of her own, frustration knotting her muscles, making her skin itch. Irritated, she raked her fingernails over her arm briskly, scratching through the thick material of her sweater. The indecision was wearing on her nerves. They had to move. There was an undercurrent of urgency threading through the cool air, twitching in her calves as she bent one leg at the knee and let it bounce. The quiet that had soothed her when they'd initially left the zone now made her edgy, restless. Even the ground under her boots felt tight, coiled, hard packed clay and earth with no give to it. It felt like a warning.

The silence stretched on as Daryl seemed to wrestle with whatever was going through his head, his thumbnail back at his mouth. As he gnawed at it a low rumble echoed up from below. Not waiting for him to tell her to, Beth scaled back up the tree, ignoring the burn in her legs. Wrapping her arm around the trunk, she stood on the highest branch that looked thick enough to support her weight. Fumbling with the binoculars, she put them up to her eyes, scanning the line of trees below. Finding the snaking path that was the road, she watched as two of the three trucks pulled out, each going in an opposite direction.

She bit her lower lip. Opportunity? She wasn't sure.

Beth scampered back down. Daryl was waiting beneath her and she dropped beside him.

"Two trucks gone," she said in a quick, halting whisper, holding out her arms to indicate their separation. Then she held up one finger. "One left."

The two men exchanged a glance.

"Worth it?" Daryl asked gruffly as Aaron rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw.

"Maybe. Depends on how many people they left."

"Ain't nuthin' we can't handle. Could use tha' truck," Daryl speculated quietly.

Aaron stared at him consideringly for a long moment, before lifting a broad shoulder. "It beats walking. Lot of 'if's' though."

Daryl acknowledged the point with a grunt before tilting his head back down to look at Beth, the question clear in his features. She nodded towards Aaron, her arms folding over her abdomen.

"Risky. Worth it, maybe." She frowned, her brows pulling together to form a small wrinkle. "Maybe," she repeated, quietly emphasizing the word.

Silently, she met his gaze and tapped a finger against the binoculars around her neck. Check things out, see what we see was the unspoken communication and Daryl caught her meaning with a nod of his own.

"Aright." His eyes flickered between them, hard and cold. "Don' fuck around."

Beth thought the warning was more for Aaron's benefit than hers. Killing didn't come naturally to him, she had been able to tell when they first came into Picksville. Not that it did to Beth or Daryl, exactly, but she didn't lose sleep when she lived to see another day and whatever was trying to keep her from it didn't. He'd do what he had to, but it weighed heavier on him. Maybe it was supposed to. Maybe that was part of what made her wrong. She glanced at Daryl out of the corner of her eye. Did that make him wrong too? Her initial thought was no, but if she was wrong, could that opinion be trusted?

They were questions that made her head twinge uncomfortably, so she ignored them. Her gut hadn't been wrong, even if her mind had been. She'd put what little faith she had in her instincts. So far, they hadn't given her reason not to. Daryl hadn't either, a tiny voice pointed out.

She watched his broad back as they picked their way down. It'd never been a question if she could trust him. Why was that? Irritation spiked at the question and she scowled, her eyes dropping to the rocks under her feet. Always 'why'. Her head felt like it was full of 'why's' when it never had been before that day outside of the safe zone. Morgan had never inspired such questions. Nothing she'd seen or experienced while she'd traveled with him had either. She hated it, hated that it poked and prodded at the convictions she'd held to be true, that each time she asked it, another one in the same vein danced in her mind. Was she ever going to get another moment's peace in her own head again?

Probably not at the rate it was going.

Her mouth pressed into a thin, tight line as they slowed near the bottom of the slope, taking care to move as quickly and quietly as possible. The truck was slightly obscured by the brightly colored leaves and needles still clinging to the thick copse of trees that lined the ditch this side of the highway. Keeping low, they split up, Beth and Daryl flanking to the left and right as Aaron settled himself on the ground just out of sight of the road, already sighting down the scope on his rifle. Her knife was already in her hand, her thumb unconsciously making a circling pattern just beneath the guard.

Adrenaline was already bouncing through her system, threatening to spiral her muscles tight even as she willed them to loosen. She pressed herself against a tree, her eyes warily flitting up and down the road, and along the treeline opposite, seeking out any hint of movement. Two figures were huddled inside the truck itself and there were others on the other side of the road, a bit further up the highway. At least three were visible, crowding together and talking, one muscular looking woman smoking a cigarette as she casually held her assault rifle down at her hip. Unconcerned, confident. No sheep to be found here.

That made her a lot more excited than it probably should have.

Angling her head back, she held up her hand towards Aaron, all five of her fingers spread wide. He turned and made the same signal to his right, where Daryl had hunkered down out of her line of sight. The curly-haired man made a curving motion with his hand towards her. Without more than an acknowledging glance, she crouched, slipping the knife between her teeth and using her hands for balance. She needed to stay below the side mirrors, and the truck was tall enough that, if the driver wasn't paying any attention, the road itself became a blind spot.

Grass shifted to hard, scraping asphalt beneath her hands as she slinked forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of black. Daryl was making his way around the other side. Sparing a quick peek up the road towards the others gathered there, she bent forward to peer under the truck, watching his boots as he eased towards the passenger side. She waited, forcing her breaths to come steady and even. When he was right at the door, she slipped up straight, her hand curling around the door handle and wrenching it open.

It squeaked almost as loudly as the driver, his dark brown eyes opening wide as she grabbed the collar of his ratty plaid shirt. There was a flash of movement at his waist and intuitively, Beth twisted herself sideways, barely missing being gutted by a wicked looking serrated combat knife. Despite his surprise, the bastard had damn good reflexes. Using every ounce of her petite one hundred and ten pound frame to haul him bodily from the truck. Stubbornly hanging on, she followed him down, using her momentum to land her knees hard on his chest, expelling the air from the man's lungs forcefully. Taking advantage of the split second of immobility, she snarled as she sliced his throat viciously, the flesh tearing raggedly. He made a choked sort of gurgle as she leapt off him and immediately rolled the dying man into the ditch.

Dropping to her belly, she looked up the road again. No one had looked this way yet. But they likely only had seconds. She pushed up to her feet, started to turn when a rough hand grabbed her shoulder. Beth spun, knife already up when another hand gripped her wrist with a grunt of surprise. She was running on autopilot, her knee already coming up before a thigh slipped between hers and an arm grabbed her around the middle, pinning her. She bared her teeth.

"Beth!"

Her name came out in a hiss, making her freeze just as she'd tipped her head back. She blinked.

Daryl.

He held her hard against him, glaring down at her with an expression she didn't recognize. He looked...almost oddly pleased, despite his scowl, maybe even eager. His gaze was dark, watching her face like he was daring her to attack him again; like he wanted her to. There was something feral in his eyes, dangerous, predatory, maybe even challenging. She recognized it, knew it as one she'd worn before, that she was probably wearing now. Her blood was fire in her veins. She wanted a fight. She wanted to hunt. She wanted to be hunted. It was a thrum in her head, humming down her body and making her want to break free from him, to run and taunt him to give chase. Did he wanted those things too?

Something was stretched tight between them, making something else low in her body clench tight. She searched his face for some clue to what he was thinking. She shifted against him, pressed herself unconsciously closer to see better, and the blue slowly bled from his eyes, drowned out by the black of his pupils as he stared her down. It was suddenly hard to breathe, like air couldn't force itself past the heat that was slowly creeping up into her cheeks. Her belly did a weird flip flop as the scent of fresh blood washed over her nose, coppery and strong. He was splattered with it, blackish red stark on his cheeks, and she had a sudden urge to fight him, just to see what he'd do. An even stronger one rose up right on the first one's heels, making her want to reach up to her tiptoes and flick her tongue over a tiny droplet that stained one corner of his mouth. Reflexively, she licked her bottom lip. As if he knew what she was thinking, she felt the low sound he made rumble in his chest where he towered over her.

That wasn't right...was it? It felt right. Maybe it felt a little too right. Was that wrong?

A flurry of movement to their right had them immediately stepping away from one another, the moment that had seemed to stretch into a lifetime suddenly cut short in the space of a heartbeat. Her knife still in hand, she tensed, then relaxed as Aaron hurried out of the trees. Without a word, and without giving herself any time to think, the three of them piled into the truck, Beth squeezing between them as they slammed the doors shut. Daryl gunned the engine, crashing his foot down on the gas. The group ahead of them scattered as they barreled past them, sending them hurtling off the road, too surprised to even lift their guns.

She angled herself on the bench seat so that she was facing the back of the cab, watching the road behind them with narrowed eyes. Lucky. But for how much longer?