A/N: This is by far the longest chapter yet. I didn't plan it that way, I just started typing and didn't stop. Hope you all like it! :-D
Disclaimer: The Walking Dead. Don't own it.
Carol and Morgan pitched their tents right next to each other. Neither one of them talked about it, they just did it. They also didn't talk about the fact that when they plotted out the construction that was soon to take place, they only made plans for a single cabin.
Duane and Sophia played catch with an old baseball they scrounged up somewhere, glancing occasionally at the two adults who walked together on the clear patch of land meant for them, pointing out various spots where walls and rooms would soon go.
"Does that mean your daddy's gonna be my daddy?" Sophia asked as she tossed the ball to the boy.
Duane shrugged and tossed the ball back. "Maybe your step-daddy."
"And my mom's gonna be your step-mom."
The boy nodded. "And that'll make you an' me step-brother 'n' step-sister."
They pondered this for a moment while they passed the ball back and forth. The prospect didn't bother them as much as their parents would've expected, for different reasons.
Duane overheard enough conversations between the couple to know that his father talked about his mother quite a bit to Carol. He still missed her, still mourned her death and the fact that he had to put her down when she turned. Duane spent many nights pretending to be asleep while anxiously listening to his daddy weep with guilt and grief. Carol gave his father the comfort Duane was incapable of offering, encouraging his mother's memory while helping his father move on. There were even times when she did the same for Duane. Talking about his mama always made him sad, but the right kind of sad. A healing sad. Having Carol as his stepmother didn't trouble him at all.
As for Sophia, she was grateful to see her mother with a man who treated her with kindness and respect. Morgan never raised a hand to Carol, never called her names or made her feel stupid. And his friendliness toward Sophia was genuine, not motivated by the desire to win Carol over. Sophia would have known the difference. Her own daddy had behaved that way the times Carol left him in order to win his estranged wife back. It always hurt her when her mother fell for the ploy again and again. Morgan wasn't like that. His eyes didn't glaze over when he asked Sophia to tell him about her day. He listened and he cared. Sophia was not at all unhappy at the thought of him becoming her stepfather.
Morgan and Carol were discussing the placement of the rooms and where the vegetable garden would be planted when Carol's voice trailed off and Morgan saw her staring down at her shoes. He stepped closer and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
She raised her head to look at him, her expression worried. "Are we moving too fast?"
Morgan frowned, not in irritation, but in thought. "It feel that way to you? If it does, we can take it slower. I don't want you rushin' into this just to make me happy."
Carol smiled a little at his response. "It's just...you lost your wife."
"And you lost your husband."
Carol sighed and looked away. Her feelings about Ed were...complicated. While she hated the things he did to her and their daughter, at the same time he'd been a part of their lives for so long. There was comfort in familiarity, even when what was familiar brought only pain. And it was hard for Carol to learn to be in charge of her own life. Ed had always made the decisions about everything, and all she had to do was meekly comply. It was so much easier to let someone else be in charge. Even after Ed died, Carol continued to let others make the big choices and follow their lead. This was different, though. Morgan wasn't the one who started talking about building one cabin together. This was Carol's decision. For the first time since she married Ed, she was the one changing the course of her life. And it felt right.
This small revelation brought a smile to Carol's face. The tension relaxed from her shoulders and she stepped forward and put her arms around Morgan's neck. "I think I just got cold feet for a second."
Morgan rested his hands on her slim waist and smiled in understanding. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll be havin' my own panic attack soon enough."
"You? Panic?" Carol teased.
"Oh, you shoulda seen me at my wedding. I was in a state," Morgan chuckled, "My best man caught me tryin' to sneak out a window. I got stuck 'bout halfway and damn near tore up my tux gettin' unstuck."
Carol laughed at the image. "How'd the bride take it? Did she ever find out?"
"She found out alright," Morgan grinned, "Couldn't be all that hard on me, though. Turned out she locked herself in the bathroom. It took all her bridesmaids half an hour to talk her into comin' out."
Carol smiled and touched his cheek. "But it all worked out in the end," she said quietly.
Morgan nodded. "Our marriage was the best years of my life," he cupped her face in both hands, "And I'm gonna do everything I can to give you the best years of yours."
Those were the most beautiful words ever said to her. As sweet as the kiss that followed.
The vehicles returned from the latest salvage trip to one of the abandoned towns that littered the countryside. Aside from clothes, toiletries, and medicines, the trucks were loaded with building supplies, which lately was in high demand. Because Shane's family had a newborn and Rick's had one on the way, it was agreed that they be given first priority in building their cabins. Tents simply weren't adequate shelter for infants.
As usual, construction was a community effort. Everybody helped in some way, including the older kids. Even some of the townspeople pitched in. The line between refugee and local was gradually blurring as they labored side by side.
At the Grimes' site, Carl's job was to bring water to whoever needed it. He carried a full bucket with a ladle which he brought over whenever someone waved or called out to him. It was heavy, but emptied quickly, much to the boy's surprise. It wasn't even noon yet and he already had to refill the bucket twice. Then again, it was a hot day, and people were sweating like crazy from all the work, including Carl. He was grateful for the hat his dad gave him. Its wide brim shaded him from the worst of the sun.
Lori was under the pavilion tent that had been set up a short distance away for use as a temporary mess tent. She was helping Nana Shino and a couple of others fix lunch. Her belly was so big at that point Carl thought a careless poke would make her pop open like a balloon. Doc Lawton said it wouldn't be much longer before the baby came, but it had already been a week since his prognosis and still nothing. Carl was beginning to wonder if his little brother or sister would ever decide to come out. From the way his mom complained of her discomfort, he knew it couldn't happen soon enough for her.
A call shook him out of his reverie. Carl hurried over with his sloshing bucket.
When noon rolled around, Rick called a halt for lunch and everyone plodded over to the pavilion. Among them were Glenn, Lia, and Daryl. Andrea, Dale, and T-Dog were working with Shane and Marilyn and their cabin site, which in fact neighbored the Grimes'. They were close enough together that both work groups ended up eating lunch together. They mingled under the pavilion's shade or sat in small groups or pairs out in the short grass, talking and eating companionably. Lia and Daryl sat a little apart from the others. Daryl focused on his meal while Lia let her eyes roam over the group. She saw Glenn flirting awkwardly with a young woman named Maggie. The two of them had been gravitating towards each other over the last few days and Lia was sure it was only a matter of time before they finally hooked up. She was glad for that. She knew Glenn had been lonely.
Dannika Lawton showed up, ostensibly to check on Lori. But as soon as she was done talking to the expectant mother, she walked over to where T-Dog was and seated herself on the bench beside him. Both of them grinned broadly at each other, neither of them trying to hide the look between them.
The line between communities was indeed blurring, Lia mused. With the negative influences of Shelby and Hess gone, people were growing more accepting of each other. Suspicions and animosities on both sides were waning. It wouldn't be long before they all became one town. Rick and Shane had already joined up with the militia, and everyone suspected Rick would soon be replacing Hank as its leader. Hank did nothing to dissuade this assumption. Leadership was a burden he did not enjoy. As long as he could respect his successor - and Rick had already gone a long way towards earning his respect - Hank was more than happy to hand over the reins and go back to being a scout.
Lia knew this growing acceptance was a good thing. Everyone in her extended adoptive family - Nana, Rick and Lori and Carl, Shane and Marilyn, Dale and Andrea, Carol and Sophia, Morgan and Duane, Glenn, T-Dog, and all the kids - they all deserved a safe place to call home. And this isolated village was as safe and stable as anyplace they could hope to find. Lia knew this, and was happy to see them all settling in so well, but she didn't feel like she was a part of this. And neither did Daryl. They were trying, but they knew no matter how long they stayed or how much they established themselves, this town would never feel like home to them. Their experiences had created a rift between them and everyone else. There was no coming back from that. The only thing keeping them here, really, was the connection they still had to their friends and loved ones. Some day, even that might not be enough.
Rick was caught up in a heavy discussion with some of the other men about how to proceed with the work, so he didn't notice the way Lori grimaced and touched her belly. Dannika, however, did. She broke away from T-Dog and hurried to the pregnant woman's side. "You alright?"
"Yeah, um," Lori winced, "I think I'd better see your granddad."
Dannika smiled and helped her stand. Lori turned to her husband, still caught up in his planning. "Rick. Honey, it's time."
"Just a sec, baby," Rick responded absently.
Lori rolled her eyes. "Rick."
"What, Lori?" Rick turned to her, a tad annoyed by the interruption.
Their son caught on faster than he did, judging from the excited grin plastered across his face. "The baby's coming, Dad!"
Rick's jaw fell open while people around him laughed and slapped him on the back. He jumped to his feet and rushed to his wife's side. "Are you okay? Should we find a stretcher or something?"
Lori chuckled. "Take it easy, sweetheart. We've been through this before." She reached over and patted Carl's shoulder. "I'm not that far along. I can still walk fine."
"Let's get ya on over to Grampa's place," Dannika encouraged, one arm around Lori's waist to steady her.
Rick moved to support his wife from the other side and they made their careful way towards Doc Lawton's cabin while everyone yelled their congratulations. Carl practically skipped along in his parents' wake. His mother's labor didn't frighten him. His parents had been very open about the whole thing, so he knew his mom would be in pain, but it was normal and nothing to worry about. The boy was far more excited at the prospect of finally meeting his baby brother or sister. His enthusiasm went a long way to calming his father's nervousness. It was hard to worry about what all could go wrong when his son was so happy.
Work on the cabins continued. Hearts were light and talk focused on the impending arrival. By the time everyone stopped for the evening, word spread that Lori had given birth. A crowd formed outside Doc's home. The door opened moments later and Rick stepped with Carl at his side, a broad smile on his tired face, and a tiny bundle in his arms. "Everyone," he announced to the hushed people around him. He carefully twisted to give them all a view of the newborn's little face. "I'd like you all to meet my daughter Judith."
There was a chorus of awws and compliments. Carl beamed as he received several congrats and pats on the back. Shane picked the boy up so they could both look at the newborn together.
"She's so beautiful," Andrea said, wiping a tear from her eye. Beside her, Dale slipped an arm around her shoulders. "That she is," he said, "It's good to see new lives beginning, Logan's and Judith's, after burying so many. It feels like a future is still possible for the human race."
Andrea hesitated. "D'you ever think, maybe we...?"
Dale looked at her in surprise. "A family?"
She nodded.
"I...I honestly never thought about it." His eyes lowered. "Do you want to have kids?" he asked quietly.
"I never did before," Andrea confessed, "But lately, I've been wondering what it'd be like. You and me being parents."
Dale pursed his lips. "Andrea, we both know I'm well past my autumn years. If we did have children, it's doubtful I'd be around long enough to see them grow up."
"I know," Andrea sighed, "I know one way or another we won't have much time together. That's why I want a family with you. So that I'll always have a living part of you with me."
Their eyes met, and many things passed between them, unsaid. Then Dale smiled and brought a gentle hand to her cheek.
Daryl woke with a jolt, his heart pounding. The tent was so dark he could barely make out Lia's shape beside him. He could tell from the sound of her breaths that he hadn't woken her. Good. He didn't want to burden her with yet another nightmare. Already the details of the dream were fading. This was also good. Maybe he had a chance at getting a little more sleep. Daryl lay his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes. Without thought, he put his arm around Lia's waist and pulled her against him. She murmured in her sleep and snuggled closer. Even now, after almost a year together, Daryl marveled at this. Not just the fact that she wanted to be close to him, but that he wanted to hold her. Throughout the one night stands that made up his love life before her, Daryl recoiled from touching whatever woman he was with after the sex was over. Even the thought of those skanks cozying up to him made his skin crawl.
He buried his nose in her braided hair and breathed in her scent. She smelled of sweat, which was inevitable in this heat, and sun, and soap, and Lia. It was a scent that calmed him when he was troubled and aroused him when he was happy. Her scent was home to him.
Lia stirred in his grip. "You awake?" she slurred sleepily.
Daryl winced. He didn't mean to wake her. "Go t' sleep."
She rolled over so she was facing him, even though it was too dark to see each other. Daryl felt her fingers trace the contours of his face. "Another nightmare?"
He sighed in resignation. "Not so bad this time. Can't even remember it."
Lia didn't press, for which he was grateful. But as the silence stretched on, Daryl wondered if something was wrong. "What is it?" he asked.
Lia sighed. "Somebody asked me if we'd planned out our cabin yet. I didn't know what to say."
Daryl knew what she meant. They were tired of living in temporary shelters and sleeping on the ground, but at the same time they couldn't bring themselves to contemplate something more permanent. At least not here.
Daryl knew, even though he couldn't see her face, that Lia was brooding. He couldn't think of anything to say that might comfort her, so he mirrored her earlier gesture and touched her face. His thumb brushed her lips and he felt them curve in a smile.
"Why don't we get away for a while?" she asked suddenly, "Go hunting like we used to."
The thought appealed to him. Even though they both kept busy, Daryl was becoming more on edge the longer they spent inside the wall. No one was forbidden to leave, but people rarely went out unless they were patrolling or salvaging, heavily armed and on constant guard against walkers. That kind of behavior irked him. Of course it was dangerous out there, but they acted like the world was swarming with geeks, and that really wasn't so. A man could spend days out in the wilderness without encountering a single walker. As long as he stayed wary and didn't get careless, survival wasn't difficult.
And Daryl missed the woods. He missed the quiet, the time away from people and all the pressures they caused, intended or not. Back when they still lived in the old office building, he and Lia often went hunting together. There was even a couple of times when they spent days out in the woods, just the two of them, camping and living off of what they hunted or foraged. Those were good times.
"Yeah," Daryl answered in a low drawl, "Let's do that."
People who didn't know them thought they were crazy. A camping trip? With all those walkers out there? Many were positive they'd never come back. Not alive, anyway. But no one tried to stop them. They weren't prisoners. If they wanted to go and get themselves killed, that was their choice.
Those who knew them, of course, thought nothing of it. Instead of dire predictions, they said things like "have fun" and "see ya in a few days." In truth, they were surprised Daryl and Lia hadn't done this sooner.
One person the couple did worry about was Sally. Even though she remembered their forays back at their old home, it was possible their leaving now would bring back her separation anxieties. But as they said their goodbyes at the gate, the toddler remained calm. When they hugged her, she squeezed their necks and kissed them on the cheek, just like she used to whenever they went off into the woods. Then she went to Nana Shino, who would watch over her while they were gone.
"Have a good time, you two," Nana smiled and gave them each a hug.
"We'll be back in a few days," Lia promised. She waved as she and Daryl headed for the gate.
"Bye-bye!" Sally called after them, waving her little arm enthusiastically.
One of the guards at the gate gave the couple a doubtful look as they approached. "Y' sure y'all wanna go out there?"
"Yeah," Daryl answered curtly.
The guard snorted. "'Kay. Your funeral." He pulled the lever that operated the counterweight system. The gate swung open with hardly a sound and was closed as soon as Lia and Daryl cleared it.
"Think they'll let us back in when we come back?" Lia asked in a wry tone.
Daryl snorted. "Prob'ly wanna strip search us t' make sure we ain't bit."
"As long as they don't shoot first, I can live with that."
It seemed like the deeper they went into the woods, the more tension seeped away. They fell into a familiar rhythm, Daryl tracking, Lia watching for possible threats. They kept their bows ready and their eyes peeled, and yet they were more relaxed than they'd been in weeks. They traveled in comfortable silence, without a destination or goal. There wasn't much wildlife at first. The town's proximity and recent walker activity frightened many of the animals away. But over time, Daryl noticed the telltale signs of deer, rabbit, and other creatures.
If he'd been alone, Daryl would have divided his attention between tracking and watching out for geeks or other humans. But with Lia behind him, he focused entirely on hunting. He trusted her to watch their backs.
They made camp in a small, sheltered clearing not too far from a waterhole. Together they pitched the tent and set up strings of empty tin cans to warn them if walkers stumbled close. Daryl built up a fire and dressed and spitted a rabbit he caught earlier while Lia foraged for greens. They also heated a can of beans from one of their packs. Daryl thought it was the best food he'd eaten in a long time.
"You look happy," Lia remarked with a grin. It was the first time either of them spoke in hours.
Daryl tossed the rabbit bones into the fire. "I was goin' batshit back in that town," he muttered.
"Yeah. Me too."
Daryl looked at her. There was still enough daylight to see her clearly. Her black hair shone, and the firelight added an extra glow to her golden skin. Before her, all the women he ever found attractive were white. Any other kind was unthinkable to him. Dixons didn't mix with other races. He smirked at the thought of his daddy or Merle seeing him now. If they didn't die of heart attacks they'd kick his ass. Or disown him altogether. This might've mattered to him once, but he just didn't give a shit about any of that now. Funny how things changed.
Lia noticed his scrutiny of her. "What?"
Daryl lowered his gaze. "I was thinkin' ya look beautiful," he mumbled. He wasn't comfortable giving compliments. It wasn't something he did very often. He picked up a long stick and prodded the fire to cover his embarrassment.
Lia smiled broadly, touched by the compliment and the effort she knew it took for him to say it. She got up and went to him. Daryl leaned back in surprise when she moved to straddle his lap. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him softly. Daryl felt himself grow hard, and it both startled and delighted him. Among other things, his nightmares had a stifling affect on his libido. The fact that he was turned on now told him how much they'd needed to get away from it all.
His right hand reached around to grab her ass. His other hand slipped under her T-shirt to brush his fingertips against the small of her back. Lia shuddered at his touch. The erogenous zone at her spine sent electric shocks straight to her core. She groaned and wriggled closer to him. "Think we can leave it to the alarms for a while?"
Daryl grinned. "Hell yeah."
Laughing, Lia stood and pretty much dragged him into the tent. They tumbled onto the sleeping bags in a tangle of limbs, mouths locked in a penetrating kiss. Their hands fumbled at each other's clothes until they realized it would go faster if they undressed themselves. Shirts, pants, socks, and underwear were scattered throughout the tent, wherever they were flung. Lia gasped as Daryl abruptly slipped a calloused finger into her and his thumb rubbed almost aggressively against her nub. His intense blue eyes watched her reaction, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. She ground herself against his hand and he slipped another finger into her.
"Touch me," he growled.
Lia blinked as she struggled to connect the words to his meaning. She reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock. Her fingers slid up and down its length, matching the rhythm of Daryl's hand. Their breaths grew ragged as they pleasured each other. Finally, Daryl pushed her hand away, withdrew his fingers, and positioned himself between her legs. It took all his self control not to slam into her. He forced himself to enter her slowly, so they could both experience every inch. By the time he was buried to the hilt inside her Lia was whimpering and clawing at his back.
"Don't go slow," she begged, "Please, Daryl, I can't handle slow."
That was good, because Daryl doubted he could do slow at this point. His body screamed for hard and fast. There was no fear that he might hurt Lia. She took it all and gave back just as fiercely. After working through their traumas with talking and crying, they now released all their stress in this primal act.
"Cum for me," Daryl panted, knowing he couldn't maintain this rhythm for long. He slid a hand between their bodies and stimulated her swollen nub. "I need ya t' cum."
Lia moaned. All coherent thought escaped her. She clung to the man above her and cried over and over the only word that existed for her at that moment. "Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!"
His mouth crashed into hers the instant she peaked, swallowing her scream and muffling his own loud groans. Their bodies shuddered in shared climaxes, then all their muscles relaxed and they went still. For a while there was only the sound of their exhausted breaths, then a euphoric giggle escaped Lia's mouth. "Wow..."
Daryl let out a tired chuckle. He slipped out of Lia and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him so her head rested against his chest. His fingers combed through her braids. "Shoulda done this ages ago."
"Yeah," she yawned, snuggled closer. "We definitely needed this." Her eyes drifted shut as sleep beckoned.
Daryl kissed the top of her head. "I love ya," he whispered.
Lia smiled, eyes still closed. "I love you, too."
They traveled in a gradual arc, circling back towards the village. On occasion they saw walkers. If there were only a few, they put them down. Once they saw a much larger group which they were able to avoid. They lived off the land, on wild game and edible plants. When they made camp each evening, like as not, they made love, and sleep afterwards was mostly peaceful. Daryl still had nightmares, but hey were less severe than they were back in town, and he went back to sleep almost as soon as he woke from them. The days blended together until the better part of a week went by. They would be back at the village soon (neither one of them thought of it as home) and already they felt the knowledge dim their mood.
On the afternoon of the sixth day, they came upon a dell, and at the very center of it stood a lone cabin. The couple paused at this unexpected discovery. It was hard to tell if the place was inhabited or not. It was sturdily built with all its windows intact, though the roof looked like it could use new shingles. Solar panels were situated on the roof, a couple of peach trees grew in the yard, and a pickup stood at the end of a graveled driveway. Twin ruts marked a path away from the cabin, probably leading to the highway. The ruts were overgrown from months of disuse. It wouldn't be much longer before they disappeared altogether. As Daryl and Lia approached, they saw that the tires on the truck were all deflated. Dead leaves choked the rain gutters and accumulated under the angled solar panels.
Lia shook her head in dismay. "How close is this place to town?" she murmured, "Maybe an hour?"
"Less 'n that," Daryl replied.
"How did they miss this?"
Daryl snorted in derision. "Ain't like anybody's been explorin', holed up like they are."
They cautiously approached the cabin, their bows at the ready in case of trouble. The cabin's door was closed, and a peek into the windows didn't reveal anyone inside, living or otherwise. Daryl reached out and twisted the doorknob. The door swung open with a faint squeak from the hinges. He entered the cabin with his crossbow loaded and checked the entire room before letting Lia follow him inside. Lia closed the door behind them. The last thing they needed was a stray walker wandering in while they checked the place out.
The interior was surprisingly tidy, aside from the layer of dust that covered everything. The living area was dominated by a couch and a couple of chairs, all upholstered in earth tones. A patchwork quilt was folded over the back of the couch. There was a coffee table made of dark wood, hardwood floorboards, and a big rug done in some kind of Native American pattern. There was a cast iron wood stove to warm the place in winter, and an entire wall taken up with bookshelves, all lined with a variety of hardcovers and paperbacks. No TV, no entertainment center, no computer. This was obviously someone's getaway from such modern contrivances. To their right was a small kitchen with a stove, fridge, and microwave. A door in the kitchen led to a pantry. Lia's eyes widened at the rows of canned and dried goods that lined the shelves, enough to last one or two people for weeks.
Daryl touched her arm, drawing her attention back to the task at hand. This was not the time to gawk at riches. The cabin belonged to someone, and they needed to find out what happened to them, if they died or left or if they were coming back. Lia nodded and closed the pantry.
They left the kitchen and walked through the living room to where three doors stood in a row. The first door they opened revealed a room with a single bed and stacks of cardboard boxes. A spare room being used for storage. They checked under the bed, inside the closet, and then left, shutting the door behind them. The next door led to a small bathroom. There was a toilet, sink, and a deep tub with a showerhead. Daryl pushed aside the shower curtain, found the bathtub empty. Satisfied, they left the bathroom. Only one room left to check.
They knew they'd found the cabin's owner the second the door swung open and the smell drifted out. The musty smell of something long dead and past the point of decay. Their hands tightened on their weapons as they stepped into the room.
It was the master bedroom. There was a dresser, a closet, and a king size bed. Sunlight streamed through the broad window, illuminating the entire room. Daryl and Lia stepped closer to the bed, their bows gradually lowering. There was no danger here.
The body of a man lay in the very center of the bed, dressed in jeans, hiking boots, and a plaid flannel shirt. His features were gaunt, flesh dark and shriveled with dehydration. His hair was long and chestnut brown. Curled up with him on the bed, its head resting on his belly, was a golden retriever. The man's left hand was buried in its fur, like he'd been petting it. His other hand still held the revolver that ended both their lives. A single bullet hole to each skull. Dark brown stains were spattered across the bed's comforter an on the wall.
Lia turned away from the tragic scene and noticed a wallet on top of the dresser. She picked it up opened it. She smirked at the hundreds and twenties she found inside, cash that was good for nothing now except as fire starters. There were also several credit cards and a drivers license with a picture of a thirty-something man who looked like he spent a lot of time outdoors. The name on it was Shaun Boothby.
There were several framed photos arranged on the dresser. Shaun was in most of them, sometimes alone, sometimes with hunting buddies, all posing with their rifles and their successful kills. There was one other man who featured in these images as often as Shaun did, an older guy with Hispanic features. At first Lia thought they were best friends until she saw one picture with the two of them together. Shaun was standing behind the other man with his arms around his shoulders, the kind of pose only couples made. Lia turned to look at the body on the bed and felt a surge of sadness for him. For whatever reason, his partner never made it out here. Shaun could've survived indefinitely in this isolated place, but grief or loss of hope drove him to end it all.
"Gotta bury 'im," Daryl muttered. His gruff voice made it sound purely practical, but Lia saw the solemnness in his eyes. They found a shovel in the toolshed out back and took turns digging the grave, one shoveling while the other kept watch. When it was finally deep enough they wrapped the bed comforter around Shaun and his dog and carried both bodies out to the grave. It felt appropriate somehow to bury them together. No words were said as they filled in the hole. They stood over the mound of dirt in silence for a few minutes, then went back inside.
"Think it still works?" Lia asked, regarding the showerhead. She was anxious to wash the sweat and grime off, even if the water was cold.
Daryl reached over and turned the spigot. Water gushed out of the bathtub's faucet. Lia shook her head in amazement. "I can't believe the plumbing's still good."
"Might be tapped int' an artesian well," Daryl said.
Lia frowned. "Artesian?" She knew the word, but its meaning escaped her.
"Got its own natural pressure," Daryl explained, "Ya don' need a pump t' move it through th' pipes."
Steam started to rise from the tub. Daryl grinned. "'N' the solar panels 're still powerin' th' water heater."
"We've got hot water?" Lia exclaimed.
Daryl's grin widened. "Yep."
Lia moaned.
They showered together and made the most of the experience, then they ate a meal from the pantry's stores. When they finished it was dark out and they were both bone tired. They decided to sleep in the spare room, since neither of them could bear the thought of lying in the same bed Shaun died in. The spare bed was only a single, but it was enough for them. They didn't even mind the staleness of the sheets.
"This is a good place," Lia murmured in the dark, "It's incredible we even found it."
Daryl was silent for a long time. Lia had almost drifted off before he finally spoke. "We c'n stay here."
He felt her tense in his arms. "Stay? You mean...permanently?"
"There's water," he said, "There's power. Plenty o' game t' hunt. Lotsa room fer a vegetable garden. And it's less 'n an hour from town, so we c'n still see everybody."
"But what about Sally?" she whispered.
He answered, just as quiet, "We could bring her here."
He waited anxiously for her response, half afraid she'd shoot the suggestion down. Finally, she twisted around until they faced each other, even though it was too dark to see. Her breath tickled his chin as she said to him, "It's crazy to jump into something like this. But...I think it's perfect."
Daryl let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Y' sure?"
"Yeah. I mean, it's not like I believe in fate or anything, but stumbling onto a place like this, it's too good to pass up. And neither one of us 'll ever be happy back in town."
Daryl's breath shuddered in relief and he kissed her hard on the lips. "Thank you," he whispered.
There were no bad dreams that night.
