His strength in my heart, Her pain on my shoulders - Part Two
"Great idea, Glenn," Daryl grunted, dropping down from the chain link fence they were perched upon and quickly ducking behind one of the abandoned cars that littered the lot.
Glenn dropped down and joined him. "How was I supposed to know this place would be overrun?" He asked, peeping up over the hood at the herd of Walkers that blocked their path.
"Cuz it's a bus station?" Daryl balked at him. "Widespread panic, people scramblin' ta get out ..."
"Yeah yeah," Glenn waved his hand at him. "It's a charter bus company, though. I figured there would be some, but this is ridiculous."
Ridiculous didn't even begin to describe it. The whole day had been nothing but setback after setback. After Daryl had awoken from what little sleep he had gotten, they had made the collective decision to take the Cavalier on this mission, beings that it was the smallest car and ran the crappiest. On the chance that their journey wasn't a successful one, they would still need the bigger and better running vehicles to make their getaway.
First, the damn car wouldn't start, and after fiddling with the fuel injection for what felt like hours, Daryl had finally got the stupid thing sputtering so they could hurry, and get on the road. Then, halfway down the mountain, it stalled and wouldn't turn over. Figuring they had wasted enough damn time messing with it, they decided to make the rest of the trip to the depot on foot, keeping to the surrounding forest for better coverage and protection. A trip that would have taken twenty minutes with a direct route in a car, had turned into a two hour trek on foot through the woods. The herd, was just the icing on the cake.
It wasn't like they weren't prepared. They had brought flares and other means to distract some Walkers if need be, but not a herd of this magnitude, and they still had to get into the office to search for keys.
Daryl glanced up at the sky, the sun was almost at its highest point, meaning it was already well past noon. Keeping low, he turned and sunk to the ground, his back sliding along the drivers side door of the sedan providing them temporary cover, and pulled his knapsack from his shoulder, readjusting his crossbow on his back.
"Think throwing a flare will distract the bulk of them so we can at least get into the office?" Glenn whispered, continuing to keep his eyes on the herd.
"Think we ain't got much'a choice," Daryl shrugged, digging through his pack and retrieving two of the flares.
The office was about forty yards away, nestled right up against a large hanger that Daryl assumed at one time housed the buses that weren't in use. One of the large glass double doors was propped open, and from his vantage point, he could see a couple of Walkers stumbling around inside, but it was nothing the two of them couldn't handle. It was getting there that would be the hard part.
"C'mon." Nudging Glenn with his elbow, Daryl motioned for him to follow towards the back of the car. The trunk was popped, so Daryl helped himself to the tire iron that was wedged beside the spare, and Glenn grabbed a large pointed umbrella. They weren't the greatest weapons, but they had longer range than their knives and would allow them to swing while they ran.
"Ya ready?" Daryl asked, striking a match against the car bumper and holding it under the fuse of the flare to light it.
"No," Glenn answered honestly, laying his flare fuse against Daryl's.
Rising to their full heights, they chucked the flares as hard as they could past the front end of the car and immediately started sprinting for the glass double doors. As predicted, most of the Walkers stumbled curiously towards the light, while the stragglers came for him and Glenn. Daryl kept his eyes forward, swinging the tire iron at anything within his range, the muscles in his legs protesting from running again, yet he stayed on Glenn's heels, leaping through the one open glass door and bumping right into one of the Walkers. It toppled to the floor in the impact, it's bony arms clawing for Daryl as he bashed in the front of it's skull with one well-aimed blow.
"A little help here," Glenn prompted him, struggling to pull the door closed, as most of the Walkers in the lot advanced towards the office, the flares no longer as appealing as the two warm bodies. The door was caught on some corpses and wouldn't budge.
"Yeh, I ain't busy or nuthin'," Daryl grunted, as he took down two more Walker's simultaneously, kicking one to the ground and stomping its head with his boot, while he shoved the tire iron through the eye socket of another. It splattered to the ground in a pile of rotted flesh and decaying bones as he yanked his weapon free from its head.
The herd outside growing louder as it approached, Daryl rushed to Glenn's side, kicking at the corpses littering the doorway, preventing them from closing it, his biceps and triceps bulging as he pulled it with all his might. It wouldn't budge. Frantically, Glenn grabbed at the bodies, cringing at their state of decay as he tugged them free with his bare hands and finally the door swung shut on them, amputating a Walker's reaching arm as it slammed and Glenn clicked the lock into place.
"Well, that sucked," he panted, breathless from their excursion.
"Yeh," was all Daryl could muster while he fought to catch his breath, thinking maybe now was a good time to quit smoking.
They composed themselves as the herd piled up against the doors, their snarls and growls deafening, in the small enclosure. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that the flimsy glass doors wouldn't hold them for long.
"C'mon," Daryl called to Glenn who seemed transfixed by the Walker pile-up at the door. "Let's find keys and pray that door leads out. We ain't gettin' out tha way we came in, that's fer sure."
Glenn nodded, backing away from the glass doors and walked around the counter, stopping in front of a lock-box that hung on the wall. "They've gotta be in here," he said, turning towards Daryl, as he heaved himself over the counter and dropped his backpack to the floor.
"It locked?" Daryl asked.
"Of course," Glenn retorted. "Why would anything be easy for us today?"
"Watch out," Daryl warned him, raising the tire iron high above his head and slamming it down on the mini pad lock, effectively busting open the lock, but bringing the entire box down off the wall with it. It burst open, scattering keys all over the ground.
Glenn dropped to his knees and began scooping up keys. "Way to go, slick."
"S'open ain't it?" Daryl shot back, joining Glenn on the floor.
"Yeah, but which ones do we take?" He asked, both of his hands filled with keys.
Daryl held one up to get a good look at it. They all were attached to numbered tags. "Dunno," he shrugged. "All of 'em, I guess. No way ta know what buses are even here til we get out there, so grab 'em all."
Glenn dropped the keys into Daryl's open backpack and pulled himself back up on his feet, glancing nervously again, at the glass doors. "I think it's time to move."
Daryl stood, as the sound of splintering glass just barely reached his ears over the roar of the herd. He looked to the entrance, and sure enough, a crack was beginning to form in the bottom corner of one of the doors.
"Yep," he agreed with Glenn. "Time ta move."
Removing his crossbow from his back, he pulled his flashlight out of his back pocket, and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he led the way to the door they both guessed led out into the bus hanger. His hand on the knob, Daryl twisted it to make sure it wasn't locked and then slowly, cautiously, pushed it open. It wasn't the hanger, but a narrow hallway with some vending machines and various work safety posters covering the walls, leading to a doorway at the opposite end. Daryl stepped inside, and Glenn followed, pulling the door shut behind him. Pressing a finger to his lips, Daryl motioned for Glenn to be silent as he moved quietly down the hall and pressed his ear against the door, trying to listen for noise over the growls of the Walkers out front.
"Do you hear anything?" Glenn whispered.
"Can't tell," Daryl replied, pressing his ear harder against the door. "If those dumbasses out front would shut tha hell up."
In frustration, he pulled his ear away and reached for the knob, twisting it slowly to test it, just as he'd done with the other that led them in here. Like the other one, it was also unlocked. Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, he slowly pushed it open, cringing when the hinges protested, creaking loudly, while Glenn leaned forward and shone his flashlight into the black space ahead of them. It was definitely the bus hanger.
Moving as silently as they could manage, they crept into the huge garage-like structure, shinning their flashlights ahead of them to point the way. A large luxury bus, the image of a horse painted on its side, sat just a few feet away from them, it's door hanging open. Daryl grabbed for his backpack again, dropping it to the ground, as Glenn circled the bus, finding a number seven painted on the back.
"It's seven," he said, as he dropped to his knees again, digging through Daryl's bag, pulling out the keys as he shuffled through them for the number seven tag, while Daryl climbed up into the bus.
"I can't find a number seven!" Glenn yelled to him, his voice a combination of frantic frustration and annoyance.
"Son-of-a-bitch," Daryl growled, as he shone his flashlight on the bus's dashboard. "Cuz tha damn things are in tha ignition already!"
A muffled curse, and then Glenn began to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of the situation.
"Hey chuckles," Daryl rolled his eyes. "Wanna get tha hell up here?"
Glenn stood, scooping up Daryl's bag and joined him on the bus. "This is perfect," he said, shunning his flashlight down the spacious isle. "We'll fit everyone and everything on here."
Daryl sat down in the drivers seat, bouncing from the chairs hydraulics and turned the key halfway, releasing his pent up breath when the interior lights kicked on. "Well, tha batteries good," he said, turning the key the rest of the way and breaking into a full blown smile when the diesel engine started purring, as if the damn thing hadn't sat derelict for two years.
"Holy shit! Are you serious?" Glenn cried, slapping his hand on the back of Daryl's seat. He began laughing hysterically again, this time from pure joy, as he jumped up and down like a kid being told they were going to Disney World.
Daryl gave the dash a once over, checking the gauges. The oil pressure was good, the battery voltage was normal, and both the regular and reserve gas tanks were full-it was truly a damn miracle or some form of divine intervention.
Flicking on the buses headlights, Daryl's smile began fading into a frown. "Yeh, we got jus' one problem," he said, and Glenn grew immediately silent. "How tha hell we 'sposed ta get outta here?" Daryl asked, pointing to the closed hanger door blocking their escape route.
Glenn brought his palm to his face and drug it down his jaw. "We can't just drive through it?" He asked, hopeful.
"Not wit no momentum behind us, ya dense?" Daryl asked. "It'll rip tha lid right off, or smash in tha front end. Neither scenario is good."
"And the minute we open that door, the herd will swarm us. If they haven't been drawn to the noise already." Glenn sighed, defeated.
With no electricity and no power, there was no way to avoid it, someone had to manually open the door with the pulleys. And it would have to be a one man job, because someone had to drive the bus out of the hanger before it got swarmed.
Daryl flipped the headlights off and hit the idle switch on the dashboard, then stood, positioning his crossbow comfortably on his back. "I'll go."
"You can't," Glenn argued. "I can't drive the bus."
"Yeh, ya can. It's automatic. Don't get more simpler," Daryl pointed to the shifter. "Keep tha headlights off so we don't attract them all in one shot."
"No," Glenn shook his head. "I have to go," he insisted.
"Be a hero later -"
"It's not about being a hero, Daryl," Glenn interrupted him. "I'm faster. I'll get the door up and get back to the bus before they even notice me." He did his best to sound confident.
It was true. Glenn was fast - quicker than all of them, skilled at slipping in and out of situations quickly without being noticed. But this was different ...
"Don't die," Daryl warned him. "I ain't gonna be tha one takin' that news ta Maggie. Not today," Daryl clasped Glenn on the shoulder, shaking him gently.
"Not today," Glenn agreed, returning the gesture, he gripped Daryl's shoulder back, exchanging a nod with him.
Daryl was hesitant to let him go, as he re-positioned himself back in the drivers seat and flipped the idle switch back off. He watched Glenn take a few deep breaths and then run down the bus stairs while he shifted the bus into gear, wincing as the shocks blew out air, making a loud hissing sound. Glenn pulled his knife out, holding it in his hand, as he reached for the chord attached to the door pulley, gave one more nod and then jerked hard, his hands moving up and down the length of the chain as the door began to rise.
A third of the way, then half, Daryl sat poised, waiting to inch the bus forward, waiting for the Walkers to come pouring through the hanger door ...but none came. Glenn continued yanking the chain until the door was fully opened, then dodged up the bus stairs, striking just one lone Walker on his way up, as he pulled the lever and shut the doors behind him.
"Tha hell?" Daryl mumbled, peering through the windshield as he focused on pulling the bus completely out of the hanger.
"I know," Glenn panted, short of breath from his pumping adrenaline. "Where the hell did they all go?"
As they cleared the hanger, they had their answer. A fire burning on the opposite side of the fence where they came in had most of the dead's attention, save for a few stragglers wandering about. Flashing headlights straight ahead grabbed his attention, and Daryl romped the gas peddle, the two figures jumping up and down, waving their arms on the other side of the fence came clearly into focus as the bus closed the distance, the red minivan behind them.
"Is that ...?"
"Maggie and Abe," Daryl finished for him, guiding the bus through the opening in the gate they had created.
He had barely brought the bus to a complete stop before Glenn was bursting through the doors and pulling Maggie into his arms. Daryl flipped the idle switch back on before joining them, as Abe shoved the gate closed again.
"I am so mad at you," Glenn said, as he grasped Maggie's face gently in his open palms. "What are you doing here?" He tugged her back into his embrace before giving her a chance to answer.
"Savin' yer asses!" Abe answered for her, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his auburn mustache.
"Sight fer sore eyes," Daryl said, and meant it, knowing how close he had been to possibly having to return to the lodge solo. It was also clear that Rick had effectively gotten through to Abraham, and while he may not like the guy a good chunk of the time - usually when he was flapping his gums - lately, he'd had a knack for being there just when they needed him.
"How did you know we were in the hanger?" Glenn asked, finally letting Maggie go, but just barely. He kept his arm draped protectively over her shoulders.
"When we got here, we saw all the Walkers beatin' down those glass doors," she pointed to the office doors, now completely shattered. "We knew you weren't gettin' out that way, so where else would you end up?" She shrugged.
"Whatcha torch?" Daryl asked, stepping to the side to look at the fire, still raging across the lot.
"Piece of shit Cavalier," Abe replied. "Found it where ya left it, by the side of the road."
"How'd ya get it started?" Daryl asked, reaching to pull a cigarette from his vest pocket. So much for quitting.
"We didn't," Abraham replied with a chuckle. "Threw the son-of-a-bitch in neutral," He pointed to Glenn, "and your ol' lady pushed me down the mountain." He slapped his hand on his knee in excitement, as if he'd just told the world's best joke.
"And why are you here?" Glenn asked again. "Not that I'm complaining, but dammit Maggie ..."
"Stop," Maggie silenced him, placing a slender finger against his lips. "You were gone too long and I couldn't just sit around and wait any longer. And you," she pointed to Daryl. "My sister would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."
Daryl toed the dirt unknowing how to respond, feeling a slight blush creep into his cheeks, thankful when Abe slapped the hood of the minivan to get everyone's attention.
"Well that's so damn sweet, I'm gettin' a cavity, but can we get movin' now? That fire ain't gonna burn forever and my ass is gettin' itchy." He thumbed in the direction of the fence behind them, where Walkers were beginning to cluster, clawing at the chain link and attracting the attention of the others still growling by the fire.
Daryl couldn't agree more, the sun was falling lower in the sky, and dusk was creeping up fast. He was already heading back to the bus when a man stepped out from in front of it, his arms raised above his head in a show of surrender. Daryl reached for his crossbow, cursing under his breath when he realized he'd left it on the bus. He heard the click of the gun as Maggie materialized beside him, her weapon trained on the stranger.
"I'm not looking for trouble," the stranger said, remaining calm. He kept his hands in the air. "I was just passing through and saw the commotion."
"Yer lyin'," Daryl hissed. "If ya was jus' passin' through, why show yerself when yer so obviously outnumbered."
The man smiled, his vivid blue eyes staring through Daryl. "Because you're right. I'm lying," he bobbed his head up and down and took a tentative step forward. "I need a vehicle. I was hoping to sneak away with one of yours while you's were distracted, but you seem like decent people, and you obviously went to a lot of trouble to get this bus, so I decided just to ask you for your help instead."
"What makes you think we're decent?" Abe eyed him suspiciously.
"Or that we'd help you?" Glenn added, stepping closer to his wife.
"Just a hunch," the stranger shrugged. "I figured I'd take a chance considering I'm really quite desperate and frankly, I've got nothing else to lose."
"People with nothin' to lose are usually the most dangerous," Abe commented, speaking from experience.
"Agreed," the stranger said. "But like your friend here mentioned," he nodded his head towards Daryl, "I'm severely outnumbered. So I'm either telling you the truth or I'm extremely stupid, since I assure you, I have no super powers."
"We're listenin'," Maggie urged him to continue, waving her gun at him.
"My partner and I were in an accident and I lost control of our car. He was hurt and unconscious and I couldn't wake him, so I climbed out of the wreck and led the Roamer's away from him," the man spoke slowly, his expression pained. "As I was returning, their were men dressed as police ...they were taking him ..."
Daryl's ears perked up. If the man wasn't telling the truth, he was an expert liar. It was all so damn coincidental, though. "Go on."
"Well, at first I was relieved, because I thought they were there to help," he shook his head, his disappointment evident by his tone. "But when they saw me, they shot at me," he lowered his eyes, his voice dropping an octave, "and I'm ashamed to admit that I ran and hid. I've been searching ever since, trying to find where they took him. It's got to be nearby, because I've seen the police cars out twice since then. I've tried following, but I'm sure you can understand that it's hard to keep up with a speeding car when you're on foot. Hence, my need for a vehicle."
"And what will you do when you find them?" Maggie asked, lowering her gun just a fraction of an inch.
"Whatever I have to," the stranger said calmly; almost coldly.
"Let's say we believe ya. What makes ya think we'd help?" Daryl asked.
The man shrugged his shoulders, mindful to keep his hands in the air. "A simple act of human kindness? I know there's still people left who haven't lost their humanity. I know," he said, a sincere smile touching the corners of his mouth, "because I'm one of them. I have no weapons on me, except a knife in my jacket pocket and a flare gun in my backpack. You can check," he offered, twisting his body sideways momentarily.
There's still good people, Daryl.
Daryl shook his head, something in his gut told him that he could trust this man. "Alright," he said, ignoring the protests of the others behind him as he quickly moved towards him. The man didn't budge, keeping still and continuing to keep his arms up. He never saw it coming when Daryl reared back his fist and slammed it into his face, knocking him to the ground and out cold.
"Damn," Daryl growled, shaking his bruised fist, bloody again - and cradled it to his chest, snarling like a wounded animal. In his moment of impulse, he'd given no thought to his injured hand.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Glenn asked, a shocked expression still etching his face.
"He says the cops took his partner, right? So we take 'em ta Noah. If his partner was there, he'd know 'em," Daryl explained his reasoning. "Jus' hit 'em ta be on tha safe side."
He bent down, rolling the stranger onto his side so he could access his backpack. Realizing his intentions, Maggie bent down to help, unzipping it and rifling through its contents, she removed a flare gun, holding it up for everyone to see. "He told us the truth," she said, rising back up to her feet, taking the backpack with her, as Daryl slid the knife out of his coat pocket, tucking it into his own pocket for safekeeping.
"So I guess Mr. Rogers is ridin' with us," Abe noted, already heaving the stranger up off the ground and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He stalked up the bus stairs, depositing the man none to gently onto one of the seats, then made himself comfortable behind the wheel. "C'mon," he called to them, impatient to get back to the lodge. "We're burnin' daylight."
Maggie handed Daryl the strangers backpack, then climbed into the minivan with Glenn, as Daryl climbed back into the bus, taking the seat opposite of their unwelcome guest. Abe waited for Glenn to reverse and spin around the minivan, then shifted the bus into gear, following a safe distance behind him as they made their way back up the mountainside.
"What a day," Abe said, glancing at Daryl through the rear view mirror. "This thing rides like a dream, though. And both tanks full? Somebody musta been prayin' for us!"