Chapter 7.
The Girl.
Daryl.
Roy looked like a pastor that used to work in the church down the road, until he burned some old house down trying to cook up meth. He had that same slimy air around him, like he thought he was better than everyone, like he was some sort of blessing sent from God and everyone else was just trailer trash. He was a penny-preacher, a fire and brimstone sack of shit, and Daryl disliked him from the moment he met him.
"I think I might miss the ladies of the night the most," Roy was saying, flaring his blazer to let the heat out – instead of just taking the damn thing off. He licked his lips. "Let me tell you, boys, you ain't never tasted paradise 'til you seen miss Charlotte down on Cherry Ave."
His audience chuckled.
Merle was looking at him real hard. "Ladies of the night?" he mocked, "What are you, some kind a' rich? Where I come from, we call 'em hookers. Whores."
Daryl glanced at the forest, catching the tail end of a squirrel rushing up a tree trunk.
"I try to have a little… well, not respect. What am I looking for?"
"Chlamydia?" Daryl said.
Merle snorted.
Ed wiped a line of sweat off his meaty forehead. He looked like a dog to Daryl, like a mean old bully dog who used to live down the street and chase him down on his bike, until Merle came out and shot it. "I'll miss A/C."
"I tell you one thing you ain't gotta miss," Merle said, motioning off behind them. Carol was there, moving an armful of clothes out of their tent. She was married to Ed – for some reason. Merle waved at her, "Hey, darlin', you wanna get me a drink?"
Daryl wished Merle had not pointed her out, because Ed turned and snapped at her, "Get outta here 'til you get my pants clean, I told you already!"
His wife started, stricken, and skittered away. She was sort of plain, barely any hair on her head, dressed in plain colors trying not to get noticed. Ed scowled after her, and it made Daryl wonder why you would marry someone you hated. Sophia came out of the tent to follow her mother. She was a skinny girl who was always clutching her doll, like it was a lifeline. Daryl knew a girl like that in school, right down to the knobbly knees – she turned up dead one summer.
Ed called to her, "Hey, girl, c'mere!"
She might have been shaking, but the girl had guts. Daryl watched her approach what must have looked like a pack of wolves to her, when reason would tell her to turn and run away. He had seen the way her daddy treated her, how her mom sheltered her.
She had big doe eyes and she clutched the doll harder as she got up to her daddy.
Ed used a softer voice on her, but it was not friendly. "Why don't you go down to the lake and get some water for your daddy and these fellas?"
She nodded sheepishly and accepted the empty water jug he handed her. As she walked off, Daryl felt Merle staring hard at him, saying 'stay out of it,' like he knew what Daryl was thinking.
Merle launched off again, "You know what imma miss most? Drugs, man. What am I 'spose to do 'bout that? I ain't cookin' that shit myself."
For the moment, the conversation went on. Ed gave his two cents. Daryl shrugged when Merle asked whether he had a stash hidden somewhere. Roy was quiet, watching Sophia until she had disappeared down the path to the lake, and then he said, "We could get somethin' going, I bet," but he was distracted. Daryl liked him even less, because he knew what he was thinking about.
Daryl caught sight of the squirrel again. He was itching to be somewhere else. He hated listening to these assholes shoot shit about the past. Daryl slipped off his stump, grabbed his bow, and headed toward the lake.
"Where you goin', boy?" Merle called.
"Fishin'," Daryl responded shortly.
"Catch us up somethin' for supper!"
Daryl had already sweated through his undershirt by the time he made it to the bottom of the path. It wound along the quarry wall, a much faster route to the bottom than the road. He started toward the water but ended up perched on a boulder with his crossbow in his lap, eyeing the shallows. He wondered if he could nail a fish with an arrow.
It was quiet down at the bottom, even though most everyone was by the water – the women were washing clothes, chatting quietly, and some kids were playing on the rocks. Daryl did not know them all by name, but he knew what sort of people these were. He watched them like he would a herd of deer, picking out weaknesses, plotting what their next move might be.
Merle wanted to rob them.
It had seemed crazy when they joined this group, but they were accumulating supplies every day – food, ammo, weapons, vehicles – and they had little thought to guard it. Merle was taking his sweet time deciding when to strike. Daryl was indifferent. Every one of these people was soft, except maybe the cops. In a few months they would all be dead. Merle and Daryl would go back to living off the land, without a large group to weigh them down.
Bunch of dead people, sooner or later.
Daryl slid down the boulder, tired of looking at them all. He slung his crossbow over his back, ducking around to the rocky shore.
He stopped short when he found Sophia standing there.
She was struggling to get a grip on the jug her father had told her to fill. It was too heavy for her spaghetti arms, especially the way she was trying to hold it.
"Grab it from the bottom," Daryl said.
Sophia had not seen him there. She jumped when he spoke, dropping the water and making a big splash, soaking both of them. Her big doe eyes widened as she looked at him, like she was locked in a set of headlights, like she had a pair of talons reaching out for her – or more like she was expecting him to hit her.
Her mother appeared, grabbing the kid by the arm and guiding her out of the water, nearly making her fall over. "Sophia? What are you doing?"
"Daddy wanted water," the girl responded in a whisper.
Carl glanced at Daryl, making eye contact for a split second before she dropped her gaze. "Sorry," she murmured, taking the jug, filling it, and taking her kid away. Daryl noticed a line of brown bruises going down her collar as she passed him.
He watched them go, staying decidedly neutral. Merle was right. Ed could do whatever he wanted. But he hated the way the mothers in camp looked at him, like he was out to steal their kids, like he was everything they never wanted their angels to become. His hate for them grew like a pit in his stomach, a dull ache telling him it would be best to pack it up and leave.
Daryl wandered the edge of the lake for a while, trying to force his mind to be on nothing – he thought about the weather changing, the winds, the rivers, and the group. He shook himself whenever those people came up. He had nothing to do with that lady or her kid, and he damn sure had nothing to do with Ed or Roy. And why was Merle chummy with them, of all people? He started kicking rocks, fuming, watching them skitter across the water.
He was nearly back to camp when he ran into a pint-sized boy playing around the edge of the water. It was Carl. His daddy was the one in charge, the sheriff. But the sheriff was away.
"What are you doing here?" Carl asked.
"What are you doing here?" Daryl growled back.
He was bold, like his daddy. He was one of the people who would die when they ran off with all the food, all the supplies. Daryl tried to drum up some sympathy for him, but Carl looked tough. Maybe he would make it longer than the others.
"Can I hold your crossbow?" Carl asked.
"No." Daryl walked around him.
Carl followed, "Why not?"
"'Cause I said so. Beat it, kid."
"I promise I won't shoot anyone with it. Okay, maybe I might shoot a walker with it. I bet you can hit one from like a mile away with that, huh?"
Daryl ignored him, taking the path back up to the top of the quarry. Lori was watching him from the shore, talking to Carol in hushed tones – he wondered what they must think of him, two uppity ladies looking down on a mongrel.
Suddenly he was angry again.
"Can you teach me how to hunt squirrels?" Carl asked, coming out in front of him and walking backwards. "Or how to kill walkers?"
"No."
"Why not? You know how to kill 'em really good. I've seen you."
Daryl made it to the top and turned on the kid. Carl flinched. He was nothing like that mousy girl, but he was still easy to intimidate. "I said beat it, 'fore I throw you off this cliff."
Carl scowled at him, turning on his heel and heading back down the path. Lori was looking up at them, using her hand to block the sun from her eyes.
Daryl went to the woods this time, hoping to avoid seeing anyone else for the rest of the day. He hoped Merle would decide to make a move soon, because Daryl was getting real tired of being surrounded by all these people. It was like a damn circus.
He hunted until dusk, though he only brought back one scrawny rabbit to show for it. Merle laughed the whole time he was skinning it.
Supper came around and the group gathered in front of the RV, up at the top of the quarry. Rick and Glenn returned right on time, rolling up to a bunch of questions about their trip. Daryl took a seat close to the fire and turned his rabbit over on a metal skewer while the newcomers got settled.
"What did you see?" the group seemed to say, silently. "What was it like in the city?"
Rick looked wearily around at them all – all these people leaned in, waiting for him to answer. "We were only on the outskirts, but we saw a lot of them, a lot of walkers. Could have been thousands, easily, all crowded into one area."
Merle drew in a breath beside Daryl and murmured, "Shit."
Everyone was whispering, growing louder as fear and confusion ricocheted through the group. Daryl had the same questions they did. Were there any other people left out there? Where were the police? Where was the military? But he knew the answer to the most prominent question – how are we going to survive out here? It was simple. Most of them would die.
But that seemed like the wrong thing to say.
Rick quieted them, "Based on what we saw, there's no help coming." He had to raise his voice as the crowd picked up again, "Nothing has changed from this morning. It might just be us, but nothing has changed. We still look out for one another. We still take care of each other."
Merle snorted quietly, rolling his eyes away from the speech. Daryl saw Rick cut his eyes in their direction and focused on his rabbit.
Rick went on pointedly, "If we stay together, if we stay strong, we can survive. One day at a time is all we need right now. Just one day at a time."
While the group asked questions, Merle grabbed Daryl by the shoulder, "Come 'ere."
Daryl joined him at the edge of the cliff, looking down, like the first time they had come to this quarry. He blew ashes off of his rabbit while his brother blew hot air.
"Listen at this, when the strong cater to the weak is when the shit hits the fan, little brother. Bunch of pussies, chantin' campfire songs and tryin' to pray the dead away. We doin' this soon. If I have to spend one more minute with those people, somebody's gettin' a knife in the eye."
Daryl wanted it to be over with, too. "Why not tonight?"
"No, no. We gotta send the boys away, you know? Get the sheriff and his shadow to leave for a few hours, at least. By the time they make it back, we'll be long gone, and not worth following."
Merle pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, carefully straightened it in his scarred fingers, and lit it up, giving a long, heavy sigh as he took his first drag.
"You stick with me, bro, and we'll outlive all these fuckers."
Daryl glanced back at the camp, at the huddled figures around the glowing fire, and thought, Bunch of dead people, sooner or later.