Chapter 36: Memory Lane

The old pickup truck was on its last legs. Gasoline was getting harder and harder to come by, and while they didn't need the generators as much anymore because of the solar panels, most gas they were able to salvage from old junk cars wasn't prioritized for vehicles. It was strictly for the generator and supply runs.

Over the past year, the group had been talking about what to do once they no longer had access to gasoline, and Daryl had been working with a few of the guys in the community, drawing up plans to use old car seats and tires and frames and rigging them up for some of the horses to pull. It would take longer to get places, but the idea was becoming more practical than wasting fuel that would one day run out or go bad.

They had even come up with a prototype, though it wasn't quite what it needed to be yet. And on this afternoon, as Daryl let the truck practically crawl down the old country road, he imagined this might be the standard speed of travel before too long. He had to admit, when it came time to say goodbye to his motorcycle for good, he was going to miss zooming down the empty roads and zigzagging around burnt out cars and other road blocks. But, the world was evolving, and they had to evolve with it.

Merle leaned forward and turned down the music they'd been blasting. They had a good herd of about two hundred trailing them about a hundred yards back. They were close enough to keep the walkers' interest, but they were far enough away that they could get a good head start if things went south.

"Why'd you turn it down?" Daryl asked.

"Shit's just depressing," Merle muttered.

"We went to a damn funeral today, and it's rock and roll that depresses you?" Daryl asked with a snort.

"These sons of bitches are long dead. Ain't never gonna make another song. Ain't never gonna make another album. Music's dead. Best singer we got back home is half tone deaf." Daryl couldn't help but laugh at that. "Shit, you remember them days when we'd lay around the house just crankin' the music up, smokin' the good stuff?"

"Yeah, you was," Daryl muttered.

"That's right. You were always the good one. Too scared to let yourself do somethin' ya weren't s'posed to once in a while."

"Too busy pickin' your drunk, stoned ass up off the floor to find time for it," Daryl pointed out. Merle grinned.

"Yeah, them were the days." Merle laughed then, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. He smiled at the memories of some of the stupid shit he'd done out of pure awe that he'd survived to remember it.

Daryl chewed his bottom lip for a minute, peering in the rear view mirror at the horde of walkers behind them.

"Things ain't gonna be the same back home. You know that, right?" he asked, glancing at his older brother.

"Yeah. I know. To be honest, if I was Negan, I'd be losin' my goddamn mind right about now. Shit's messed up. Lucy was a good woman. Damn shame she's gone."

"She was," Daryl said quietly. "First people after you we took in. Wasn't sure 'bout takin' anybody in 'cause of Lydia, but it was probably the best decision we made. Feels like we gave her a family."

"'Course you did. You did good with her. Wasn't for you, she woulda froze to death, been a snack for them geeks out there. Ain't no way to die." He cleared his throat. "Lucy deserved better."

"He didn't tell anybody," Daryl mused. "Didn't tell a damn soul he was bit. And he knew what would happen. But he didn't say a damn word." He shook his head. "That can't ever happen again."

"How the hell we gonna stop it? Somebody wants to hide that they're bit, they're gonna do it. Most of our people? Nah, they're gonna say somethin'."

"Just keep thinkin' about Jim."

"Jim?" Merle asked.

"Yeah. Back at the quarry. Remember him? Always hung around Dale and helped him work on the RV?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember him."

"The night we got back from Atlanta, after we all went lookin' for you, we got back to camp just as a bunch of walkers came through. Lost Andrea's little sister Amy, Carol's husband Ed. Lots of others. Anyway, we was separatin' the bodies out, puttin' knives through their skulls so they wouldn't come back. And Jacqui noticed Jim was bit. He didn't wanna tell anybody. He was scared. I fuckin' flipped out, wanted to put a bullet in his head. I mean, he was a dead man already, but I went about it all wrong. But he was scared, 'cause he knew somebody was gonna do it. He wanted to go on his own terms. Think maybe that's what David wanted." He leaned his head back against the head rest. "Jim didn't want us to put him down. Probably should've. Who knows how many people he killed after he turned. But he didn't want to be put down. He wanted to die alone."

"Yeah. David coulda told somebody. Instead, he went off and died, and then he came back and killed Lucy. Ain't no sense in it. Maybe he was just sick. Kid fucked up one too many times as it was. Hell, for all we know, he got himself bit on purpose. Wanted to bring us down."

"Think there's somebody that sick in this world?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brows.

"This world changes you. Remember how goddamn bad the news always was, how many sick fucks were out there? This world could warp any mind. You know how many people I saw shot point blank in the head right in front of me, and I didn't even blink? That's what this world does. Poor Lucy. Didn't belong in this world. She had everything goin' against her for a good long while, and she beat it back. And now, all 'cause of some coward son of a bitch, she's gone. It's a goddamn shame, that's what it is." Daryl eyed Merle for a moment, and then he turned his focus back on the road. He turned the music up again and continued on his mission.

...

Carol and the children had retreated to the house after the funeral, and Lydia had kept her brother occupied with games and coloring while Carol took a much needed nap. This pregnancy was tiring her out more than the previous one, and while she knew it was emotional exhaustion from losing Lucy so abruptly, she just felt achy and weak all over.

She'd taken about an hour long nap before getting up to make lunch for the kids. The rest of the day, she'd sat around with them reading their favorite stories until supper time. After the children had their baths and were down for the night, Carol retired to her room with every intention of staying up to read. But it wasn't long before she was nodding off with the book in her lap. So, she gave up and went to sleep and was only awakened a while later when the bed shifted and somebody slid beneath the covers. She smiled when she felt his calloused hand against her stomach, creeping up her night shirt in that familiar way. He kissed the back of her neck and groaned softly in exhaustion.

"Sorry I didn't make it home for supper."

"It's ok. You hungry?"

"Nah. I'll wait for breakfast," he murmured. "The kids ok?"

"Mmm," Carol whispered. "How'd it go?"

"Good. Got 'em about twenty miles out, hit the gas and led 'em on a wild goose chase for about twenty minutes, got 'em all mixed up. We lost 'em and headed back toward home. Still a few outside the gates, but we got 'em 'fore we came in."

"Good," Carol sighed. "I'm glad you're home." She turned over to face him and kissed him softly. His hand slid up her back, gently caressing her there as her fingertips brushed the stubble on his jaw. He leaned forward then, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Love you so damn much. You know that?"

"Mmm, I had a hunch," she grinned. She sighed and curled up against him, and they lay wrapped up in one another for a long while before low rumbles of thunder began to roll in and lull them to sleep.