I wanted to rush to post these chapters so Daryl finally made an appearance and interacts with Isabell, since I know that's what everyone has been waiting for. Enjoy!
Dale found me a spare tent that night and helped me set it up when everyone had been getting ready for bed. I had a hard time falling asleep though. My mind kept wandering back to Merle locked up on that roof. Before I finally fell asleep, I had made up my mind. We had to go back for him and I would tell Rick first thing in the morning that I was planning to go.
The sun had woken me up early and I spotted a clean pair of jeans and a clean blue tank top next to my boots at the entrance to my tent. Slowly I pulled off my dirty clothes and put on the clean ones, surprised at how well they fit. I then laced up my boots and made my way out of my tent. I saw the woman who I assumed was Ed's wife ironing Rick's uniform on an ironing board. She gave me a weak smile.
"See you got the clothing I left you," she told me.
"Yes, thank you," I told her with a smile.
"I'll pick up your dirty clothes and they'll get washed with our next group of laundry," she said, and before I could protest she said, "It's what I do to help around here."
Slowly, I nodded my head. "I'm Isabell," I told her, holding out my hand to her.
She looked at it hesitantly before reaching out hers, weakly shaking my hand. "Carol."
"Hey, you're awake!"
I looked in the direction of the voice and spotted Glenn watching Morales and another man taking things apart under the hood of his Mustang.
Carol went back to ironing so I made my way over to Glenn.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked me, a friendly smile on his face.
"Good, thanks to you," I told him.
He shot me a quizzical look.
"If it wasn't for you, Rick and I would be in that tank still. Or…dead."
Glenn nodded his head before turning around and waving at someone. My eyes followed and I spotted Rick.
"I'll talk to you later," I told Glenn, making my way over to Rick.
"How'd you sleep?" Rick greeted me.
I smiled. "Just like déjà vu."
Rick's face suddenly went serious like it did when we'd stolen the horse. I quickly held up my hands.
"No, I just meant Glenn had just asked me the same thing," I told him.
"Oh," Rick said.
"Look," I said, ignoring answering his question and wanting to get straight to the point. "I think we should go back to get Merle. He may be an ass but he doesn't deserve to starve to death."
A frown crossed Rick's face. "I was thinking the same thing. But I don't know if you should be going back out there. You don't really know how to use a gun, for starters. And your head could probably use some time to heal after that blow you took yesterday."
I waved off his concern. "I think by now my head could handle anything. And I can use something other than a gun. There's bound to be something around the camp." I paused, chewing on my lip. "That bag of guns and my bat are still by the tank, too."
Rick sighed. "Yeah, I thought about that. We could use them to help protect the camp. That ammo would be useful."
I raised my brows at him questioningly.
"I have to talk to Lori. She's not going to like it."
"You don't have to go, I know where our things are. Stay behind with your family," I told him.
Rick shook his head firmly. "No, if anyone is going back out there it's got to be me."
I watched as he made his way back to his tent, most likely going to talk to Lori about us going back in to Atlanta to save Merle.
"Breakfast?" Jacqui asked, handing me an opened can of sliced peaches. "Sorry I don't have any silverware."
"I have hands," I told her with a grateful smile.
"How's the head?" she asked, eyeing the wound on my forehead.
I ate a few peaches before answering. "Better today."
"You got a nice bruise forming," she said, pointing to a section on my forehead. "Doesn't look too good."
"I'm pretty sure I'll make it," I told her with a chuckle.
"I got to finish passing out breakfast, I'll see you around," Jacqui told me before disappearing.
I ate the rest of the peaches quickly and threw away the can. I glanced around the camp, noticing everyone at work. I wanted to find something to do, but a sudden scream caught my attention.
"Carl!" I heard Lori shout, racing out of her tent.
I picked up my pace, following her through the trees.
"Isabell!"
I stopped and saw Glenn toss me a crowbar. I was surprised when I caught it, but then continued forward, picking up speed to where Carl was shouting for his dad.
Carl and Carol's daughter came running forward to Lori and I pressed on, realizing I was followed by Rick, Shane, and two other guys I hadn't met yet. Just past a few trees we came upon a walker gnawing on the neck of a dead deer with two arrows sticking out of its hindquarters.
My eyes darted in every direction but I only saw the one walker. Suddenly it dropped the piece of deer it was chewing and came at Rick. He hit it in the head with some metal pole he was holding and Shane hit it with the butt of his gun. The walker went down and Rick, Shane, and the two other men started beating on the thing until it stopped moving, its head having been cut off.
"It's the first one we've had up here," Dale said from behind us.
One of the men I didn't know spoke up. "Must be running out of food in the city."
A rustle in the trees caused everyone to ready their weapons again, afraid another walker was about to emerge.
I jumped when a man came out beside me, clearly alive. He was wearing a shirt with the sleeves cut off and a crossbow in his hands. I lowered my crowbar and offered a smile to the man, but he walked right on past me, and at the sound of the southern drawl in his voice, I knew this was Merle's brother, back from his hunting trip. The smile fell off my face.
"Son of a bitch. That's my deer," the man snarled at the headless walker on the ground. "Look at it all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" He continued in between kicking the thing.
"Calm down," Dale said to the man.
"What do you know about it old man?" Daryl suddenly said, rounding on Dale and getting up in his face.
"Leave him alone," I snapped.
Daryl turned to me, furrowed his brows in a questioning way, but then turned back to the deer and pulled his arrows out of it.
"Been tracking this deer for miles," he said. "Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. You think we can just cut around this chewed up part?"
"I would not risk that," Shane told him.
"That's a damn shame," Daryl said. "I still got about a dozen squirrels though. It'll have to do."
The walker's head suddenly reanimated, its mouth moving and its eyes opening.
"Come on people, what the hell," Daryl said, lifting up his crossbow and shooting the thing right in the eye. "It's gotta be the brain." He reached forward and pulled the knife out of the thing's head before sauntering off back to camp.
A silence fell among the group there.
"That's Daryl," Dale said suddenly. "We should probably talk to him."
We all made our way back to camp. I could hear Daryl calling out for his brother.
"Merle! Get your ugly ass out here!"
"Hey Daryl, we need to talk to you," Shane said.
"'Bout what?"
"About Merle. There was a problem in Atlanta," Shane told him.
Everybody in the camp was gathered around now, watching what was going to happen next.
"Dead?" Daryl asked.
"Not sure," Shane told him.
"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl growled.
Rick stepped forward towards Daryl. "There's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it."
"Who're you?" Daryl asked Rick.
"Rick Grimes," Rick told him.
"Rick Grimes," Daryl spat mockingly. "You got somethin' you wanna tell me?"
"Your brother was a danger to us all," Rick told him honestly. "So I handcuffed him to a roof and hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."
"Let me process this," Daryl said, anger growing. "You said you handcuffed my brother to a roof? And you left him there?!"
"Yeah," Rick said quietly.
I saw the punch coming immediately. Rick ducked as Daryl stumbled forward, but then he pulled a knife from his waistband.
That same instant reaction took over me as I saw Daryl swing the knife at Rick, and I jumped forward in-between the two. Daryl had his hand back, ready to swing the knife forward again, and I expected him to after his brother had hit me yesterday. But he froze with his hand in the air, knife glinting in the sun.
"You better move," he snarled at me, his voice low and his eyes narrowed at me.
"What're you doing, Isabell?" Andrea called out from behind me.
"Move!" Daryl snapped at me, hand still raised.
"Isabell," Rick said calmly behind me, "Get out of the way. I don't want you getting hurt."
Daryl scoffed. "You think I'd hurt a woman!"
A thought flashed through my mind and I wondered if I had judged Daryl by his brother a little too quickly. Maybe they weren't exactly alike.
Suddenly Shane lunged forward, pulling Daryl into a chokehold and causing the knife to drop from his hand.
"Let me go!" Daryl demanded.
"I think it's better if I don't," Shane said.
"Chokeholdings illegal!" Daryl shot.
"File a complaint," Shane mumbled. "I can keep this up all day."
Rick stepped forward and leaned down towards Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this subject, you think you can manage that?"
I watched as Daryl's face turned red and he was struggling for air.
"You think we can manage that?" Rick asked again.
Daryl remained quiet.
"He's going to pass out, let him go," I said suddenly.
Everyone's eyes turned to me, including Daryl's. Shane glanced at Rick before tossing Daryl to the ground. He wheezed for air as Rick started talking.
"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others."
"It's not Rick's fault."
I looked over to see T-Dog joining the group.
"I had the key. I dropped it."
"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl shot.
"I dropped it in the drain."
Daryl got up from the ground and glared at T-Dog.
"If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."
"Maybe this will," T-Dog said, causing Daryl to stop from walking off. "I chained the door to the roof so none of the walkers could get up there."
"That's got to count for something," Rick said.
I could see tears welling up in Daryl's eyes. He wiped them away with his wrists but tried to pass it off like he was wiping sweat from his forehead.
"To hell with all y'all," he shot at the group. "Just tell me where he is, so I can go get him."
"I'll show you," I said.
Daryl turned to look at me, an expression on his face that I couldn't read.
"So will Rick," Lori said, speaking up from by the RV. "Isn't that right?"
Rick nodded. "We're going back."
I watched as Daryl walked off to grab his crossbow and bolts, apparently wanting to leave right now. I made my way back to my tent and grabbed my handgun and when I got back I saw Shane trying to talk Rick out of going.
"You really want to go back for that douchebag, Merle Dixon?" Shane shot.
"Hey," Daryl called out. "Choose your words carefully."
Shane looked over to Daryl. "No, I meant douchebag." He turned back to Rick. "Merle Dixon is not a good guy. He wouldn't give you a glass of water even if you were dying of thirst."
"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest us," I said, standing next to Rick.
From a few feet away I saw Daryl shoot me a look at my words before going back to gathering his gear.
"We aren't going to let a man die of thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap, that's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being," Rick told Shane.
"So you, Daryl and Isabell? That's your big plan?" Lori spoke up by the small fire.
"Doesn't sound so safe, you're both fresh out of the hospital," Dale said in concern.
"Hospital?" Daryl asked.
Rick didn't answer him and instead turned to Glenn.
"Oh come on," Glenn said.
"You know the way," Rick said. "You been there before. In and out, no problems. You said so yourself."
"Rick," I said, reaching out a hand to catch his attention. "He doesn't have to go if he doesn't want to."
Glenn looked at me before shaking his head. "You wouldn't find your way back without me."
"So you're gonna risk four people?" Shane asked.
"Five," T-Dog said suddenly.
Daryl scoffed as he was cleaning off his arrows. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?"
I bit back the response burning on my tongue. No one had to go back for him at all.
"We need our people here," Shane said. "That walker, it was here, in the camp. More could come."
"Seems like what's needed here is more guns," Rick said.
"Right," Glenn said, remembering the duffle bag we'd dropped outside of the tank yesterday.
"What guns?" Shane asked.
"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. And ammo. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before Isabell and I left for Atlanta. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when Isabell and I got swarmed. It's still sitting there on the street waiting to be picked up."
"How much ammo?" Shane asked after a moment.
"Seven hundred rounds, assorted," Rick answered.
I was surprised when Lori suddenly spoke up, trying to convince Rick not to leave. She had been the one that just moments ago had volunteered him to go with me.
"Merle Dixon isn't worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in," Lori said.
Rick walked over to her as she started to become emotional.
"Make me understand," Lori demanded.
I noticed Daryl getting anxious to go, scoffing at the way Lori was acting.
"Isabell and I owe a debt to a man we met, and his little boy," Rick told her.
"He saved our life," I piped up, causing her to look at me. "We'd have been dead if it wasn't for them."
"They said they'd follow us into Atlanta," Rick told her. "They'll walk into the same trap we did if we don't warn them."
"What's stopping you from warning him?"
"There's a walkie-talkie in the bag he dropped. Morgan, the man who helped us, he's got the other one," I answered.
"I need that bag," Rick told her.
I watched as Rick said goodbye to his son before going over to talk to Dale about getting bolt cutters. I followed Daryl to the truck and climbed in with him. He was pacing the length of it, eyeing the conversation between Rick, Dale, and T-Dog before eyeing me up and down.
"The hell are you, anyway?" Daryl asked me gruffly.
I sighed. I was starting to get tired of answering this question. "Isabell."
He eyed my face as he stopped pacing a few feet from me. "The hell's wrong with your head? You got a cut and it's all bruised."
"The cut is from a car accident. Your brother gave me the bruise," I told him.
I saw him go rigid, his mouth tightening into a straight line.
"He hit you?" Daryl asked.
"He started a fight with some of the group, when I saw Rick jump in I just…jumped in after him. I hit him in the stomach and he punched me back," I answered.
I saw Daryl's eyes narrow as he stared at the bruise.
"That why everyone thought I was going to attack you, too?"
I nodded.
Daryl turned his gaze back to Rick and T-Dog who were still speaking with Dale. Glenn was still gathering up his gear.
"I'd never hit no woman," Daryl muttered.
I turned my attention back to him.
"My brother, he ain't the nicest person, but he's still my brother," Daryl said in finality. "He's family."
I bit my lip and looked away. Family. That aching, lonely, empty feeling started gnawing in my stomach again. Why couldn't I just remember my damn family?
"What?" Daryl's gruff voice asked.
"Nothing," I answered.
"Don't nothin' me. You got that look on your face like someone just kicked you in the gut. The hell's your problem?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I answered simply.
Daryl went silent, his narrowed eyes watching me.
"Lookin' for your family," Daryl said, as if he'd figured it out.
My eyes caught his and I shook my head. "Looking for myself."
He gave me a funny look, confused at my statement, before I walked over and sat down on the floor of the truck near the driver's seat.