The Wolf You Feed
Chapter 99
Daryl slowed his bike once the Sanctuary was in view. He noticed right away that something was wrong. There were supposed to be snipers stationed around the place. But he didn't see anyone there. Other than the teeming sea of the dead, the place appeared to be totally deserted. A feeling of foreboding washed over him. It wasn't just the lack of snipers. When he got close to the place before, disguised as one of Gavin's outpost soldiers, he felt her presence almost the moment he arrived. Rowan. Daryl didn't believe in magic or soulmates or any of that stuff. But he couldn't deny they had an intense connection. He could always tell when Rowan was nearby. Even if he couldn't see or hear her. It was just something he felt. A tingling down inside him. And right now he was feeling nothing. And it was scaring the shit out of him.
Blowing one of the walls in wasn't hard. Daryl got as close as he could and just launched a lit stick of dynamite towards the closest wall. Not only did it open the wall up, but the dead surged towards the noise which effectively cleared the other side of the building out. But there was still no response from anyone inside. Not a gunshot. Not an escape attempt. Not one peep. The feeling of worry in Daryl's stomach intensified as he pushed in through one of the doors and skirted around a few of the dead, heading for the upper levels of the building.
He checked the medical bay first, finding it empty. The generators had long since cut off. The windows of the place had been shot or broken in. Glass crunched under Daryl's feet as he headed up the stairs. Being only a lowly soldier, Daryl was never granted access to the upper levels of the building. But he saw people coming and going from that area enough that he had some idea of where to go. The first few rooms he checked, Daryl didn't find much. A few rumpled beds and lots of women's clothing and beauty items. Then, he happened upon a room that was much more lavishly decorated than the rest.
When the saviors left the place, it was clear they did so in a real hurry. Because Daryl already saw a few half packed bags. Open drawers and items strewn out all over in a jumble. This room was no different. Except that unlike the others, it wasn't totally devoid of life. The reanimated body of one of Negan's lieutenants growled and reached for him from the floor. Daryl couldn't remember the man's name. But he recognized him. The man was balding and had a large bushy mustache. He looked like he was beaten to death and then beat some more. Daryl stomped down on the man's head, splitting it open like a ripe melon. He wondered as he brought his foot down what the man did to anger Negan enough to murder him in such a violent and intense way.
Daryl headed in through an open doorway. Unlike many of the others, this room had some natural light filtering in through a well barricaded window. There was blood on the floor. Daryl's guess was that it belonged to the reanimated corpse he saw in the next room. The feeling of foreboding inside him strengthened. Something bad happened here. To Rowan.
Like that one, this room was luxuriously decorated. The bed was huge and filled with an assortment of rumpled blankets and large fluffy pillows. Since the room was empty, Daryl was about to turn around and leave. But something on the dresser top caught his eye. Sunlight was glinting off a small gold tree. An assortment of necklaces was hanging from the tree. And there was a large seashell next to it that was being used as a bowl to hold more jewelry. Daryl sifted through the items, letting them slide between his fingers. He knew Rowan well enough to recognize her taste. These items were hers. Daryl pulled the top dresser drawer open. He felt the bile rising inside him almost immediately. The entire drawer was full of lingerie. Lacy black nighties like the ones she liked to wear for him. Sheer lace bras and skimpy little panties that didn't leave much to the imagination. Daryl slammed the drawer shut and leaned forwards, bracing his hands on the top of the dresser as he fought back his vomit. He tried not to look at the bed. Looking there only invited images of the depraved acts he was sure his pregnant wife was forced to perform for an ego driven madman. Daryl tried to calm himself. Rowan showed no signs of physical injury or abuse when he saw her last. So he tried to reassure himself that at least the fucker wasn't beating or hurting her. Not physically anyway. Though Daryl knew enough about abuse to know that a person could be damaged beyond repair without their abuser ever lifting a finger.
"Fuck!," Daryl screamed. He lifted his foot, kicking the hard wooden frame of the bed. The movement jostled the bed and knocked it into a small bedside table. A mug half full of tea knocked over, taking with it any last morsel of hope that Rowan was not the woman that was sharing this room with Negan. As if the dog bed in the corner and her things weren't enough. Daryl recognized the smell of the tea. It was the same blend she made for herself at bedtime. To help her sleep. Sometimes she would make him a cup too. She never asked if he wanted it. When he had a particularly tough day or was stressed about something, Rowan would just turn up with two mugs of tea in her hands instead of one.
Daryl advanced on the bed. He grabbed the tipped over mug. Drops of Rowan's tea were still rolling around inside of it. Daryl hurled the mug at the wall, shattering it. Then he lifted one of the large fluffy pillows off the bed. He tried to stop himself but before he knew what he was doing, he was breathing in the smell of her hair that was lingering in the fabric. Daryl pulled his lighter out. He flicked it, looking at the small dancing flame as he held the pillow over it. It took only a moment before the flames were licking over the fabric. Once the stuffing inside caught, the small flickers became an inferno. Daryl tossed the lit pillow down onto the middle of the bed. He stood there for longer than he knew was really safe, watching as the flames ate up the bedding and licked at the corners of the wooden frame. When the frame caught fire, Daryl turned and left, heading back the way he came with the fresh smell of Rowan's hair still lingering around him.