Chapter Three
The next morning Michonne was surprised, again, when Daryl called.
"Hello?" she answered.
"This is Daryl Dixon," he greeted.
"I know who it is, Daryl. I have caller ID. Remember?"
She could hear him sigh. "Railroad tracks," he muttered.
"Hmm. It's."
"Complicated. Yeah. You always say that," he complained.
She laughed a little. "Because it is." She looked at her watch. "Why don't you meet us for breakfast. My treat."
He paused. "The Korean food?"
"I had it boxed and ate it later."
"Where the hell you puttin' all this food?"
She laughed louder and Andre looked up from his milk. "I'll miss the hell out of having food served. I'll work it off. Say, two hours. Here's the IHOP cross streets."
Daryl wrote down the cross streets and sat back. He didn't have anything to do today. He wasn't feelin' too good anyway. Merle walked into the kitchen and put water on for coffee. "Need money. For the cable bill."
Merle didn't say anything and pulled a couple of twenties from his pocket. "Good enough, Darylina?"
"Could have it shut off."
"Fuck you, Daryl. I got in late the other night and I'm still tired," he snapped.
Daryl shrugged it off. Merle being Merle. If what he saw on the news was true cable might not be around anymore. All kindsa people were getting some sort of flu bug and it was bad. Lots of people were goin' to the hospital. Some were thought dead and came back to life. He'd seen a few of those stories. They came back…weird. He didn't wanna believe that crazy ass Michonne, but she might be right.
"You hear anything about people gettin' the flu pretty bad?" he asked his brother.
Merle snorted. "My life's depressin' enough, Daryl. Why the hell would I pay attention to the news?"
The water went off, Merle made his coffee and left the kitchen then he heard his brother's bedroom door slam shut. Shit.
If this Michonne was right Georgia would be sendin' them to camps in a few days. He, if he believed the crazy woman, would be sent to a camp along with Merle. He wondered if she'd gone to the camps the first time. He sounded like a crazy in his head. She never once mentioned her son. He shied away from that thought and headed for the shower. He'd beat her this time.
Michonne was surprised when she walked into IHOP and Daryl was sitting there. She didn't exactly look up where he lived but she knew he wasn't anywhere near Atlanta.
He nodded at the seat across from him and the highchair next to the table. Giving him a smile in thanks, she put Andre in the seat. A server was at their table right away.
"Hi. Can I start you off with something to drink?" the pretty young black girl asked.
"I'd like coffee and a large orange juice. My son would like a small orange juice," she ordered.
"Coffee," Daryl grunted.
The girl smiled again and put the menus on the table. "I'll get your drinks and be back for your orders," she said and disappeared toward the counter.
"Peanut, do you want boo cakes?" she asked her son.
"Boo," he repeated. Damn it. She'd missed him so, so, so much.
"Boo cakes," she grinned.
"Boo cakes?"
"Blueberry pancakes," she told him as she pushed the menu away. "So, railroad tracks. Hmm. I have to give you some context."
"'Course you do," Daryl grunted.
She smiled. "You look so goddamn young," she sighed. "After we brought the Woodbury people, mostly elderly and children, back to the prison, life went on. You and I, then just me, would go out and try and find the asshole. One day you kind of talked me into staying."
"How?"
She put her elbow on the table and cupped her chin. "You know, I don't really remember what you said, but whatever it was, I listened. We'd had a flu run through the prison and a lot of us died."
"Did we?" he asked softly.
"Yes, they turned."
"Turned?"
"It's what we called it. Turning. After Hershel got it under control the asshole came back. With a tank." Daryl jerked in his seat, and she wondered what that was about. "Hershel and I had been outside the fences burning the walkers."
"Burning them?" he asked incredulously.
"Sometimes we burned them. Sometimes we left them where they fell after we put them down. The Governor had the guy with the tank use it and we lost the prison. Several twists and turns later." Daryl looked like he wanted to interrupt but stayed quiet. "We'd been separated when the prison was destroyed and most of us met up at a place called Terminus. It was a train depot. They'd put signs along the railroad tracks drawing people in. Carol shot up the gas tanks and we escaped." The server set down their drinks and Michonne ordered. "I'd like two eggs over easy, wheat toast, four strips of bacon and hash browns. My son," the server smiled at him. "He'd like blueberry pancakes."
Andre said 'boo' and the girl, 'Tanice', laughed. "He's cute."
"Thank you."
"For you, sir?"
"Where the hell are you puttin' all that food?" Daryl asked again.
Tanice cleared her throat.
Daryl shook his head. "What she's havin'. Thanks," he added at her look.
The server took the menus and left.
"They were cannibals," Michonne stated. Daryl spit his coffee across the table.
"What the hell did you say?" he asked in shock.
"They were cannibals. They used the signs to draw people in."
"Jesus Christ," he muttered and wiped his mouth with his arm.
"Railroad tracks," she finished.
Daryl didn't say much after that. Michonne took the juice and poured it into a sippy cup and gave it to her son. She smiled as she watched him drink. Then she wondered if she could order an orange tree and get it in time. She'd check when she got back. They weren't doing anything today except the pool. She'd taken Andre to see a movie, to the zoo, to the aquarium and to the children's museum. She'd taken a lot of pictures.
"You don't mention him," Daryl said quietly as he looked at Andre.
"No. I don't," she answered.
Daryl kept quiet and looked at the little boy and his crazy ass mother. She didn't look or sound crazy. Or maybe she wasn't crazy and she time-traveled back to the past. Right. Whatever the hell, people were getting sick.
The server came to check on them and Michonne asked for more orange juice for her and her son. He paid attention when she said they were limiting orange juice because deliveries were behind. Like the Korean place. The woman didn't seem too surprised by it. He listened as the server thanked her for her patience.
"…were angry," she said.
"It's hardly your fault," Michonne responded.
"Thank you again for understanding," the girl said again before pouring more coffee and leaving.
"Saw it. On the news," he muttered. "People gettin' sick."
"They'll start curfew's soon," Michonne told him.
"Huh," he grunted and finished his breakfast. She took her time wipin' the boy's face. "You gonna tell me his name?" he asked.
She smiled. "No."
"Anyone of them people you say you know ever know you had a son?"
"One."
"One?"
She sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee. "One. That time was difficult. Difficult's…not the right word. It doesn't." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I won't be living that time again." Michonne stared at him. "I know you don't believe a goddamn thing I'm telling you, Daryl. Please listen when I tell you this: the walkers are coming. You can't stop it. Find a place. Start growing food. Find people. Walkers like blood, life, noise and shiny. You need to stab or shoot them in the head to put them down."
He shifted in his seat. He didn't know if he could kill anyone, living or not. "Would you," he started to say then stopped. How the hell was he gonna ask this?
"Would I?" Michonne flapped her hand.
"If this shit's gonna happen," he got out fast. "Would you find a safe place for me and Merle?"
She raised her eyebrows. "No place will be absolutely safe, but sure. I can try." She paused and took her son out of the highchair and put him on her lap. "Let me do a little research and get back with you."
"Even though you don't like Merle? Even though you never met him?" he asked aggressively.
She smiled. "Merle's an asshole. He's your brother and you were my friend. A friend when I needed one."
"Them other people weren't your friends?" Daryl didn't know why he was harpin' on this. Time travel wasn't possible. Walkers? He knew people were getting sick and that's all he knew. He shoulda kept his mouth shut.
She frowned a little and kissed her boy's head. "Friends implies trust. No. No one ever trusted me. Unless it was to watch their back."
"Just in case."
Michonne smiled at him again. "Just in case. I'll text you something."
"Nah, don't do that texting shit."
"Why don't we meet for dinner? How does pizza sound?"
"Lemme guess, you're buyin?"
She nodded her head. "Of course. I'm the one wanting to meet you."
"Why the hell not. Call me with a place. I'm takin' the leftovers this time."
She laughed. "Don't walk out."
He shook his head and got up to leave. "Not doin' anything tonight anyway."
He waited while she got her shit and the boy ready and walked out with them to her car. She drove a tan Lexus. It looked like a nice car. She had money. She might still be crazy.
When Daryl got back to the trailer, he saw Merle was up and eating a hot pocket. "You been sleepin' all day?" he asked.
"Don't start, Daryl," Merle growled at him.
"Not startin' shit, Merle," he growled back. He didn't know how to say this. Especially to Merle. "Be careful, Merle. Lotta people gettin' some kinda flu. Goin' to the hospital."
Merle narrowed his eyes. "Why, little brother, didn't know you cared," he said sarcastically.
"This shit's gettin' serious, Merle," he warned his brother.
Merle got a shit eatin' grin on his face. "I'm not gonna be put in a hospital for some goddamn flu. Although, I might find me a nice-lookin' nurse," he cackled.
Daryl shook his head and went to turn on the news.
Michonne was somewhat shocked Daryl asked her to find him and Merle a safe place. He didn't know her from Adam. She told him some incredible things, things if she'd been on the other end of, would have had her calling the cops. Or recommending a psychiatrist.
She'd picked out a place along the Appalachian Trail. She figured mountains or an island. In doing her research, most of the towns she looked at had less than a thousand people. The less people the better. Although she knew she'd need people. Watching her son play with his blocks, she wondered why they hadn't tried that last time. Walkers weren't that coordinated. Less people? Hopefully, less problems.
Sometimes she'd wanted to kick her own ass encouraging Rick to go to DC. Everyone and their brother would've thought the same thing Eugene did. It's what she did. She did wonder why Glenn or Carol, or he believed Eugene when they knew the CDC had been blown up. Why did she? Did Jenner tell them other people were working on a cure and Andrea never mentioned it? Possibly.
It didn't matter now. She wasn't going to live that life again. It helped that she felt so detached from those memories. Michonne could almost fool herself that last time was the worst nightmare she'd ever had. Those people? Characters in a dream. Deep down she did hope Carol would be able to save her daughter. She might not've liked or trusted her, but the loss of a child? She could sympathize. She turned on her laptop and started looking.