It was so dark out, the inky blackness of the treetops seemed to swallow all the light from the pale moon above. Beth attempted to move silently, but every little sound had her jumping, pointing and stabbing her knife at shadows. She wasn't worried about walkers, but about one of the creeps from the shack coming after her. Feeling her way through the darkness somehow soothed the constant nausea, and Beth was glad to be without it for once.
"We've got this, Trip," she whispered to her stomach, rubbing her hand in slow, protective circles.
After Cathy had helped Beth finish cutting the bindings, Beth had laid a hand on the other woman's forehead. Massive heat poured from Cathy's body and Beth knew she'd be dead soon. They'd removed her leg at the knee, and Beth was surprised at the professional-looking, tight white bandage. Cathy also told her they'd cauterized the wound with a blowtorch.
Beth couldn't wait until Rick and Daryl got here and killed every one of those bastards. She grinned into the darkness just thinking about it.
Remembering poor Cathy back in that shack sobered Beth. Using her newly acquired knife, Beth had stabbed it in the teen's skull, so he wouldn't reanimate and warn the others with walker moaning. She'd offered the same to Cathy, but the other woman shook her head, "Maybe I'll come back and bite one of those creeps. I hope like hell I bite more than one."
Cathy urged her to run, but Beth hated leaving the other woman behind. As Beth had edged open the small window in the room, the creaking sound it gave had terrified her, but when no one came to check, she'd shoved it up the rest of the way and climbed out quickly.
From inside she could hear the other woman laughing softly and repeating the phrase, "Tainted meat," over and over.
After running for several minutes, Beth began to worry she was moving in the wrong direction. When a walker stepped into her path, she took her frustration out on it, stabbing her knife deep in its head long after it had stopped moving.
Stunned at her own behavior, Beth sat in the leaves for a minute before deciding to just trust her instincts about how to make it back to the creek.
Soon, the sound of trickling water could be heard ahead. Damn right, she thought, and directed the thought at Daryl, told you I was getting good at this.
...
Sweeping the area with the flashlights, Daryl, Rick, and Maggie found nothing, and all 3 were frustrated.
"We should come back at first light," Maggie suggested.
Daryl suddenly stopped, "Lights off."
Though Rick and Maggie quickly complied, it was almost a minute before Rick heard the splashing too. Something was moving toward them. In the pale moonlight, Rick thought it was a walker and he stepped forward to take it out.
Just before he swung his knife, Beth's sweet voice, "Rick? Is that really you?"
Maggie's flashlight snapped on and all 3 of them just stared at Beth. To Rick, she appeared to have been dipped in blood. As though someone had held her upside down by the ankles and submerged her. The only skin he could see was her forehead.
"Beth," Rick breathed, grabbing her into his arms, "Where are you hurt?"
Daryl came behind and wrapped his arms around the pair of them.
"I'm not hurt, this is not my blood."
Backing up slightly, her men examined her from head to toe, as Maggie asked, "What happened, Bethie?"
As she explained about the men, about Cathy, about biting that boy's throat out, white hot rage filled Rick, for what she'd suffered, for what those bastards had forced his sweet girl to do.
Rick gently kissed her on the forehead, and then he tugged Beth down to the water. Slowly he cleaned the blood from her face and neck. The cut on her cheek was his undoing. She watched him, her eyes glittering and expectant. She knew.
Rick's voice, when he spoke, was so cold it sent chills down Maggie's spine, "Take her back to camp, Maggie. Daryl, with me."
...
Daryl found Beth's back trail quickly, and a few moments later, he and Rick stood by some trees next to the cabin, "She came out of that window," Daryl whispered.
Daryl had seen Rick in rage mode before, and looking back now, it had always turned Daryl on, even if he hadn't known what he was feeling at the time. Now though, he watched this Rick carefully. Rick's goal may have been to kill everyone of the fuckers in that shack, but Daryl's only goal was to protect Rick, from himself if need be. Daryl wanted the fuckers dead, too, but he wanted Rick alive more.
"Boost me," Rick whispered, and Daryl did, watching Rick shimmy through the small window. Daryl quickly tugged himself up, too, squeezing his shoulders to fit. As he dropped to the floor, he saw Rick examining Cathy, and then stabbing his knife into her skull.
As Rick opened the door, Daryl was right behind him.
It was a bloodbath, Daryl didn't even try to take out anyone himself, he let Rick fly around the room of sleeping men, but as they woke, either to the sounds of their comrades' screams or Rick's guttural yells, Daryl was behind him, taking out anyone who got near Rick.
After every single man was dead, and stabbed through the skull, Rick had dropped to the floor, and Daryl sat behind him, wrapping his arms around Rick's stomach and resting his face against Rick's neck.
"Something's wrong with me," Rick had whispered, and Daryl's heart tugged knowing Rick was in the aftermath.
"Naw man, nothing's wrong with you. Every one of these sick fucks deserved what they got."
Rick shrugged off his arms and turned to face Daryl, "You might think I don't know how you always protect me, but I do."
"Always. I'll never let anything happen to you. I'll die first," Daryl told him, and there in that shack of death, surrounded by dead men and pool of blood, Daryl told him his heart, "I love you more than I could ever care about me."
Rick kissed his forehead, and then Daryl's lips gently, a slow, sweet play of tongues and lips, "Let's get the hell out of here."