Falling into the Undead
Chapter Fourteen
How to Save a Life
Hi guys!
I have to say the beginning part of this chapter was one of my more favorite things to write. Getting inside of Merle's head was fun.
I pull you in to feel your heartbeat
Can you hear me screaming?
Please don't leave me
-Hold on by Chord Overstreet
Merle Dixon was not a man of religion.
He didn't believe in any higher deity looking down on him and judging him for his sins. Nor did he believe in a man who sat back and watched as his creations fucked one another over. He couldn't take any man up in the clouds seriously that would sit back and allow bad things to happen to kids, or anyone innocent. It just didn't make sense, so he didn't bother wasting his breath.
When he was left behind, and fear and anxiety began to creep in, Merle didn't turn to the man. He didn't utter a word of forgiveness, or salvation, to beg to be saved.
He did none of that.
Instead, the words of Remington began to play back over, and over in his mind.
'If you find yourself handcuffed to a roof don't try to escape.'
Fuck if he hadn't found himself in such a situation.
'Don't do anything you think you need to do at that moment to save yourself.'
Those were strong words for someone that wasn't connected to a pole. He could feel the instinct rise inside of himself. Had let off a few bellows of curse words, as he kicked, and pulled at the pipe, trying to damage it to the point it would fall down. Except none of that happened. It was sturdy, strong, and wouldn't be giving in to the likes of him. Merle could feel the desperate need to escape. Instincts told him to do whatever he needed in order to survive.
He had tried breaking his thumb, to slip out that way, but it hadn't mattered because the asshole had squeezed until it fit snug around his wrist, metal biting into the skin. His flesh was already raw, irritated, and bleeding from all the moving around he had done. All that he was left with was humming under the skin of his thumb, as pain pulsed, and still with nowhere to go.
He had shifted until he was hidden under the pipe, but it barely gave any relief from the sun. The slim shadow barely covered his face, and as the day wore on it shifted further away from where he could reach.
He could feel insanity slip back in as the moments ticked by. The heat bore down on him. Driving him crazy as he slipped in and out of deliriousness.
He could hear the Walkers on the other side of the door, banging, and scratching, while they moaned and desperately tried to reach the meal strung up for easy taking.
Merle felt desperation creeping back in. He began to yank against the metal again. His foot came up, pushing against the pipe, as he yanked and pulled his hand, trying to squeeze it through the metal. It didn't matter. Nothing changed. His hand was too big, and the hole was too small. His thumb, even broken, was still in the way.
Metal glinted out of the corner of his eye. It shined in the sunlight, beckoning him forward, in the form of some kind of salvation. He reached, grunting, as he stretched, pulling the muscles in his back, and arm as he desperately reached for the saw that had been carelessly kicked across the roof.
Once, twice, his fingers slipped over the metal, before finally, he managed to get a grip on it, and slowly tugged it toward him.
He began to saw at the chain that connected him to the pipe. He didn't care if it would stay dangling around his wrist when he was free. All he cared about was being free. He would deal with the rest later.
Only the saw wouldn't cut. It scraped, tarnishing the metal, but it did nothing else. It hadn't chipped into it in any way.
He felt the cry fall from his lips.
The curses swiftly left right after.
He could feel the hope slipping away before his eyes landed on the offending hand keeping him tied down.
It wouldn't cut through the metal, but it would be sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone.
The mere thought caused his stomach to twist, and heave, but survival beckoned stronger.
He would deal with whatever he needed to after he was free. Merle would take any and all repercussions as long as he survived.
'Don't do anything you think you need to do at that moment to save yourself.'
The words rammed through his thoughts, halting them, as Remington's voice appeared in person to his right.
"Didn't I tell you not to do anything?" Her voice was clear, closer than it should sound, as he was certain she hadn't been there a moment before. No one could have joined him on the roof without coming through the door, and he could still hear the snarls from the dead on the other side.
He glanced over at her, squinting against the sun, as she shimmered.
"What ta fuck are yah doing here?"
"Keeping you from doing something stupid it would seem."
"Wasn't gonna do nuttin," he muttered tiredly. He fell backward, leaning against the pipe, ignoring the way it burned against his skin. His face was hot, the skin blistering, as he hadn't had much luck escaping the sun. The saw stayed in his hand, giving him comfort, as he continued to eye Remington.
"Sure, doesn't seem like it."
"Shut up and help me outta here."
He watched as Remington stepped closer, leaning over him, eyeing his condition, as her head tilted to the side. In his state, he didn't notice that the sun didn't disappear as she leaned over him. It still beat harshly down upon him.
"You need to stay calm. I'm coming for you."
"Yah already here." She shook her head. It only confused him more. "I can see yah."
"Don't do anything stupid. Wait for me to find you." He closed his eyes, feeling frustrated, as a headache built up behind his eyes.
"Stop fucking around." His eyes opened back up and met with empty space in front of him. He was back to being alone on the rooftop. "Remington! Git ta fuck back here!" He struggled against the chain. "Don't leave me here! Not yah too!" He fought against his constraints, gaining no success, and only managing to wear himself out. Forced to settle down he slumped forward.
Helplessness settled over him as his gaze fell on the saw that had clattered against the ground.
․° °․
Remington hadn't enjoyed the conversation with her children. Neither wanted her to leave, at least Maisie had quieted when she mentioned going to save Merle, but Landon hadn't seen it that way. He didn't think she should be the one to go. He had refused to understand why she was leaving and had stormed off toward the tent, zipping himself up inside furiously. Remington had only been able to watch helplessly as Maisie hugged her legs and told her it would be okay.
Shane had promised to keep watch over the children, while Carol said she would invite them to play with Sophia and help her with chores. Remington felt thankful toward the two, and with one last warning to Shane to keep an eye out for Walkers she left with Glenn and Morgan.
They took the cube van, a machine the others had returned in, and only left Remington with a sick feeling in her stomach. It was the same van from the show. She wondered, not for the first time if she was making the right decision to only go with two others. Preferably they would avoid meeting with anyone else, and slip by the Walkers quickly, with hardly any hang-ups. Those that were still alive were dangerous. Remington could name several people who fell into this category.
Glenn glanced over at her, Morgan was the one driving, and he had twisted around in the seat to see her clearly as she rode in the back.
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault. It's not like we expected you guys to run into others."
"Still, we shouldn't have just left him like that."
"At least you guys blocked the Walkers from getting to him." Remington couldn't help but feel bitter for Merle. The group could have done more if they had kept their heads on their shoulders, but she couldn't take it out on them. It was understandable that they had been scared, and it hadn't been their fault Merle had been handcuffed to the building this time around.
Silence met her statement.
"What caused Merle to grow angry anyway?" Remington asked.
"The men we ran into had tried asking us questions about the group."
"You didn't tell them anything did you?" Remington was worried, she knew that the group had let things slip in the beginning, not really meaning to, but they hadn't always made the smartest decisions.
"Not really. We mentioned the group was big, but not where we were. One of the men asked if we had women. Seemed kind of excited about it. None of us answered it, but that was confirmation enough I guess, cause this other guy started going on about if the place was safe then we should offer to take them with us. They mentioned how nice it would be to have someone around whom they could help warm up their tent with. Neither of us liked where the conversation was going but Rick had warned us to stay quiet. And we did, we let Rick handle it, until the one that kept going on about having someone to 'snuggle' with asked if either of us had anyone. The men started joking around, saying what they would like to do to, well…. you guys… and may have mentioned to Merle that he looked like he had a side piece. I don't know what was going through Merle's head then, but he got really angry and attacked."
Remington wasn't sure either. It sounded like he was angry over what the men had been saying, but she wasn't sure if he would react that way. At one point that probably would have been him, and without a Dixon being talked about in such a way she wasn't sure whom he would have felt anger over. Or at least, that's what she told herself. She still wasn't sure what either Dixon thought about her. Where she fits in with them. Whether she was just an annoyance or not.
Instead of trying to find answers to something that was impossible Remington turned toward Morgan, shifting a bit as she shuffled forward to lean between the two seats.
She didn't want to go into a potentially dangerous situation with someone who still held a grudge against her. He was just another person she was uncertain about.
"I'm sorry," she softly spoke to him. Glenn pretended he couldn't hear them, shifting himself to stare out the window, and trying to give them as much privacy as possible in closed quarters. "I never tried to speak to you before now, but I'm sorry for what I did."
For a moment Morgan seemed to ignore her. His hands tightened around the wheel before a sigh escaped his lips and he deflated.
"I was angry, still am, but I knew it had to happen. I just wanted to be in control when it did. I hadn't wanted the reason to be because Duane was about to be bit by her, or a stranger taking her life." She wasn't sure what she should say. "I'm thankful my son is still alive. That's due to you. But that anger doesn't see it that way. You don't have to worry. I'll watch your back this trip, but being friends isn't something I see happening in the near future."
Remington pushed herself back to sit against the walls of the van to give the man space. It was good to know where she stood but it hadn't been what Remington wanted when she had gone out to help them. She hadn't wanted to bring emotional turmoil down on the two. Actions had consequences her father used to say. He'd tell her that even ones you made with good intentions didn't always mean they would end that way.
She wondered if everything would end well on this trip. Would her good intentions only make it worse, or better, for Merle? She hoped it would be the latter.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Morgan had nothing he wanted to talk about, Remington refused to be the one to break it, and poor Glenn wasn't sure what he could say that wouldn't be met with awkwardness. He felt relief when they pulled into the empty lot. He quickly moved to open the door, but Remington stopped him. She remembered the van had ended up being stolen and she wasn't sure if it had been because Merle had taken it, a random group, or one of the Governors people. Hell, she knew that at a hospital somewhere around here there was a group surviving if a bit messed up, and she didn't want to run into anyone on this trip.
"We should hide the van, or at least camouflage it in a way that no one will mess with it," she stated. "It wouldn't do us any good for the van to be gone after we saved Merle."
"We can place it inside that garage," Morgan said, pointing out toward where a building, with a metal garage door, was left wide open. A sign, Bo's Body Shop was scrawled across in black paint, the wood crooked without anyone around to fix it. Remington nodded, moving to open the back of the van so she could get out.
"We should check and make sure it's clear of Walkers first."
On the inside, she could see from her spot that there were tools spilled out everywhere. At some point, there had been a scuffle, probably Bo meeting a Walker, and had tried to leave in a hurry only to hit everything on his way out. The closer she got Remington could see a door that led into the shop, she was sure if they went inside, it would be a waiting area. Gripping tightly to her machete Remington peered into the garage. It looked empty but she wouldn't put it past a Walker to come out of nowhere and try to chomp on her ankle. It was the ground ones that you had to keep an eye out for.
She carefully walked further into the garage. Her eyes swiveled around, taking in every corner, as she walked toward the door to close it. Behind her, she could hear Glenn following close behind, as Morgan waited to be told to park the van.
The closer she grew to the door she could hear a low hum, turning into a loud growl, which put her on edge. The grip on her machete tightened, and with her pulse jumping, she peered into the doorway, only to let out a relieved sigh. Just on the inside, a man was trapped under a heavy-looking shelf that must have fallen over during the skirmish. It tugged at her heart, the familiar sensation of sadness, as she realized what the man had to have gone through during his last moments.
"Should we just leave it, and close the door?" Glenn asked.
Remington knew this would have been the best option. It didn't look like it was going anywhere, and even if it happened to get free, with the door closed they wouldn't have to worry about it sneaking out to grab them when they came back, but she couldn't just leave it there. It had been human once. A man who had fallen into bad luck and had met his untimely end.
Without saying anything she stepped into the room, watching for any other Walkers that might sneak up, as she stood over the undead man. In the next instant, her machete came down, slicing through his head, and with a disgusting squelch, he stopped moving. Glenn didn't say anything as she used the man's shirt to clean her blade before retreating without a word. Closing the door, she motioned for Morgan to park the van.
"All right," she said once they pulled down the garage door. "Lead the way."
․° °․
Daryl walked through the camp, a few squirrels tied to his belt, and a fox held in his hand. His eyes roamed over the faces he didn't care about, he was looking for Merle and knew since he wasn't at their tent, then he would be with that woman. He spotted the kids first. The boy was kicking a ball with the girl, going easy, as the two dogs bounced back and forth following after. His eyes scanned the area, looking for their mom, but he spotted neither her nor Merle. Something settled in his gut, telling him that was wrong, that Remington never let those kids out of her sight for long when she was around. They were always placed somewhere safe, never too far away, even when she helped by foraging in the forest.
She never left without the dog unless she went somewhere he couldn't.
Narrowing his gaze, he began to search around for the adult placed in charge of the kids. There would be one. He knew Remington wouldn't allow them to go without protection. She was smart like that, protective, and always seemed to know what they were doing even when she wasn't around.
He spotted Carol first, the woman hovering a little way away, her eyes darting over toward them occasionally, as she folded laundry. Sophia was by her side, working on a book, the one he recognized as a schoolbook one of the parents had brought back from a run.
"Where they at?" he asked, not bothering to say whom he was looking for. It would be obvious, as he wouldn't have asked about anyone else.
Carol glanced up at him, she looked worried, and wouldn't meet his eyes. He wasn't sure if that was because she had bad news or just a natural instinct. He never went out of his way to talk to her before.
"Daryl, I-," she wasn't sure what to tell him. They hadn't expected him to come back until later, tomorrow morning, and no one had thought they would be the ones to tell him what was going on.
"Something happen?" His voice didn't shake, he bit his lip, and his eyes fell back on the children. They weren't crying, the little one would be, he knew, if something had happened to her mom. The older one would have been upset, but he would have stayed strong for the girl. So, she wasn't dead, but something had happened.
"Daryl!" the little girl called out, having finally spotted him. She allowed the ball that was kicked toward her to pass her by as she darted off toward him. He hardly interacted with them much, but had eaten plenty of meals around her, and had grown tired of being referred to by Mr. Dixon. Both Merle, and he, had asked not to be called by that, but by their names, if she had to talk to them.
It was strange how much she went out of her way to talk to them.
"Kid," he huffed, turned back toward Carol, wanting to know what was up, that he almost missed the upset look on her face.
"Momma went away," she said. "Momma said she was gonna go save Merle. Will they be, okay?" She reached out to tug at his shirt, her fingers bunching up into the material, as her lower lip wavered. She had kept it in for so long. Pretending everything was okay, but she was worried about her mom. She wasn't close enough to Carol to tell her how she felt, the woman was nice, but she wanted her mom or Merle. Daryl was close enough. He didn't like talking to her, but she knew it was just because he was uncomfortable around children. She had noticed that. She had known people like that before the Walkers.
Daryl blinked as he stared down at her trying to understand the words, she had just spoken to him.
"Daryl," a voice spoke out, breaking him from his thoughts. "I think we should talk, man." Shane, of course, it was Shane, should have known he would be loitering around. He and Remington seemed to have grown close since their run that brought back Rick, and the other two. She wouldn't have just left one person in charge of those kids.
"It true then?"
"Merle got left behind on the run. Remington, in all of her smarts, decided to run off and go get him." Daryl could tell that Shane didn't approve, but he wasn't surprised, Shane hardly got along with Merle, except they tried, for Remington. Another surprise. Daryl wasn't sure how one person could change a man like Merle, but he tried not to think about it too often, cause he didn't have an answer for how it had begun to change him either.
"You think she's, okay?" Maisie asked again. She tugged lightly at his shirt.
"She's fine," he muttered, turning to stare down at her. She wasn't letting go, when he tried tugging back his shirt, her grip only tightened.
"I want momma to bring Merle back."
"Yeah." He tried tugging his shirt back again, but she had latched onto him, not caring what he wanted. "Come on." Wouldn't be letting him go it would seem. So, he'd take her with him over to the tent. Set her to work on one of the squirrels. Merle had been teaching her how to do it, and recently she had gotten decent at it. He wasn't afraid of her messing it up at least. Merle would be upset if he didn't try to bring the girl some kind of comfort, and since neither of them was ever good at it, Merle had started putting her to work instead. It was a distraction and worked just as well. He could do the same.
Maisie followed him easily enough. She was more than willing to join him in helping with the animals.
"Don't go far Maisie," Shane said but didn't try to keep her from going with him. His eyes followed her the entire way. Landon had glanced over but felt no need to follow the girl, instead, he turned his back and continued to play with the dogs. Daryl ignored the way he watched them as he set Maisie to work. He carefully eyed her as she worked, making sure she didn't cut herself, as he moved through the motions of taking care of the fox. It was awkward, but he was glad that Maisie didn't expect him to talk back to her, as she chatted away, while carefully working the knife through the movements Merle had taught her.
He put all his frustration out on the animal in front of him. He didn't care to ask for the full story about what happened to Merle. He would either get it from the man himself, or from Remington because he knew that come hell, or high water, she wouldn't leave those kids behind.
․° °․
Remington felt the way her insides froze, it hadn't thawed the whole time they had been in the city, as they had silently crept through the empty streets. Glenn knew how to keep them out of sight. They had only run into a few of the Undead that had to be put down. They agreed to stay out of sight and only attack if it was needed. Remington didn't want any of them to take any unnecessary risks, and they followed as if she was the designated leader for their mission. Neither questioned when she told them to do something, and she figured Glenn didn't want to have that weight on his shoulders, and Morgan didn't care enough. What she said was reasonable and that's all they cared about.
"We're getting close," Glenn whispered to her. "He's on the roof. Two buildings down."
"All right," she whispered back. "We make sure the way is safe. We don't separate. Stick close to one another always. We don't know if anyone from that group is lingering around."
Glenn led them through the back way, fewer Walkers, and easy to handle any that came their way. Morgan took care of the ones from the back of the group, while Remington took down any that wandered off from the side. Soon they had made their way to the staircase. Three were still lingering, none hooked to the door, but they seemed to have grown disinterested, and had nowhere to go.
"Don't use your guns," Remington said. She didn't want to draw any more toward them. Taking a careful breath, trying to relax as much as possible, she pushed through the fear as she charged forward. Her blade came up, smashing into the side of the head of the first one, and sent it toppling over the side. Her arms swung back around, slicing into the next one's head, as the last went to grab at her. She struggled against it, shoving it forward, against the wall, as Morgan came forward and used his knife to drive it through the brain.
She was gasping for breath, trying to shake off her fear, as she hated getting so close to them.
"You good?" Morgan asked.
"I'm fine," Remington answered. "Let's just get this door open. Merle should be on the other side."
Glenn gently moved her to the side as he pulled out the key T-Dog had given him. It belonged to the padlock that the man had used to keep the Walkers away from getting onto the roof. He quickly opened it, causing Remington to rush forward to throw open the door once the chain was removed.
"Merle!" she called out. She was worried that somehow, he had gotten free, and had decided to lose his hand, instead of staying put. What if he ignored her warnings, from all those weeks ago, and did what he thought needed to be done? "Merle?!"
A groan came from the other side of the roof, by a bunch of pipes, telling her where she would find him. Alive, or dead? She wasn't sure.
"Merle?"
She took a hesitant step forward. Another groan sounded. Remington rounded the corner, raising her machete, wanting to be prepared for the worst, if it came down to it.
She saw a foot first. Then a leg.
It twitched as she came closer, and he heard footsteps. When they were eye to eye Remington couldn't help but let out a relieved breath. He hadn't disappeared. She had found him. He listened.
"Thought yah left me too," he muttered, his head rolling to the side as he stared at her. His eyes were glassy, withdrawn, looking out of it.
"Hey," she whispered, coming to fall in front of him, as she reached out to steady his head. Her eyes checked over him. "I'm right here. I came. Like I said I would."
"Are yah really here?"
He mumbled words she couldn't make out, and those that she could didn't make sense. He grumbled about how she had left him. He complained, before asking her not to do it again. Remington smiled and began to speak softly to him, as she grabbed the water bottle from her pack. Part of it was poured on a rag, and the rest was pressed against his lips, waiting for him to greedily drink it up. She used the rag to wipe his face, moving carefully, worried about hurting him as she saw the blisters starting to form on his cheeks.
"I've got some aloe. Hold still, all right." She was certain he was dehydrated. "This is gonna hurt." He wouldn't be much help back to the van but having a hand, and not dealing with blood loss, meant he was in better condition to travel than the first time around. He had made it once, alone, and this time he had help. "Glenn, use those cutters to get rid of the handcuffs. Free him." The man moved to do as she said as Morgan hung back, making sure nothing snuck up on them.
With one snip Merle's hand was free, a new bracelet hanging from his wrist, as Remington began to fix him up as best as she could. She had first aid training, had taken classes, especially after she had given birth to Maisie, and wanted to make sure she could take care of any emergency wound-wise.
Merle yanked his face away from her, but after a few soft-spoken words, he settled down enough to let her do what she needed.
"Why'd yah come back?" Merle asked, still sounding delirious.
"I just got here."
"Naw, yah were here before. Just left me."
"I wouldn't have done that." She reached out, turning his head, as she made sure she got everything. "I wasn't here before, but it sounds like you were hallucinating. I feel kind of honored to be the one that would appear. What did I say?"
"Nuttin." The words came out sounding like a lie, but she didn't push the man. "Yah weren't here. Fuck."
"I'm here now. We need to get you cooled down, and ready to go. We've got to make it back to camp before nightfall." Her eyes gazed up at the sky, how the sun had begun its descent, and in a few hours, it would be dark. That itch never let her skin. She wasn't sure if it was because she was in the middle of a city crawling with Walkers, or if it was a sign of something bad to come. "Help me get him inside."
Morgan stepped forward, hauling Merle up to his feet, as Remington wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging one of his arms around her shoulders, as Morgan did the same. Glenn led the way, his weapon at the ready, as they headed for the staircase.
"Let's find a safe place to stop and get him ready to go."
"There's an office below us," Glenn said. "We can go there."
Merle mumbled a few words as they walked, more stumbled, down the stairs. He was heavy, Morgan took most of the brunt of his weight, but Remington still struggled. They half dragged him down the stairs, toward the office Glenn had mentioned, as they kept their ears and eyes open for threats.
Glenn twitched as a low growl-like noise broke the silence. A Walker stumbled around the corner, seemingly wandering without much thought before its eyes caught sight of the prey in front of it. He raised the bat in his hand and quickly lashed out. It was over quickly but Glenn kept an aura of nervousness around him as they walked. Remington felt that she knew exactly how he felt. She wondered if that bundle of nerves over seeing a Walker ever completely disappeared. She knew it didn't bother some people as it did her.
There were those that would thrive in this new world. They didn't hesitate in bashing in the head of one of the Undead, and eventually, even people like Glenn would grow used to it, and typically show nothing but determination when dealing with them.
Would she ever grow to be like that?
Anything other than fear would be nice.
"In here," Glenn whispered as he carelessly threw open a door. Remington was about to holler out about how stupid of a decision that was until she realized just how small the office was. If Glenn knew about it, they probably had already cleared it out when they had been here earlier, but Remington hated taking chances. They had been gone from the building for a couple of hours, and though Walkers didn't know how to open doors, someone else could have been lying in wait.
As it was her heart began to settle, no longer pounding away at her ribcage, as she helped guide Merle over to a chair. Kneeling in front of him she began to offer more water. Merle looked as if he was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, but he still had a dazed look about him.
"Should one of us grab the van?" Glenn asked. He looked nervous still and considering what had happened to him last time they were here Remington didn't blame him.
"We shouldn't split up," Remington answered, shaking her head. "We're weaker separated. We must assume that the group is still around, and plan accordingly. We wait until Merle is ready to be moved."
She couldn't help how her eyes drifted toward the window where she glanced at the sky. It was late afternoon, nearing evening, and she knew they had at best three hours before dark. It would be at least another thirty minutes before Merle could safely be moved from the room, and at least an hour in total before Remington trusted him not to be a liability. That would leave them with two hours to get back to camp, and if the van were still there it wouldn't take them nearly that long.
Remington would hope and pray that within two hours she would safely be back with her children.
It wasn't in Remington to just leave it up to chance, however, and while she hovered over Merle, she began to devise a plan.
They still haven't made it out of Atlanta and Remi and Merle have a lot to talk about. How do you guys think the next chapter is going to go?
Will it be safe and easy or a mess from start to finish?
Enjoy and review!