Red River Blue

Chapter 2

** It will become more obvious in this chapter, but I just wanted to clarify that River is Merle's ex-wife, not Daryl's. Also the title Red River Blue is also the name of a Blake Shelton song. Since that was where I got the idea for the title and the name of the main character, I thought I should give credit. As always read, enjoy and review. **

River only got a quick look at the man before he was gone from her sight. Heading back inside the prison walls. But one glance was all she needed to know for sure that it was him. From her best estimate, close to 95 percent of the population of Georgia had been killed by whatever sickness made people die and come back as brainless cannibals. Ninety-five percent. But out of the few people that were left alive, of course one of them had to be Merle Dixon. She should have know it. He was too mean to die.

Wren was poking and prodding at her, wanting the binoculars back. So River handed them back to the girl. She had already seen more than enough. More than anything, she wished she could unsee what she had already looked at.

"What are we going to do?," Harley asked. River glanced at the girl. Unlike her younger sister, who seemed more excited by the idea of finding her father alive, River saw her own conflicting emotions mirrored back at her on her older daughter's face.

"I don't know," River said. Being a mom had been hard enough before the turn. Even then she had always felt like she was flying by the seat of her pants. She had been so young when she had Harley, they had practically raised each other. And now that the world had ended, her stress was a constant weight on her shoulders. Every single decision she made was life or death. Her girls looked to her for anwsers and she just didn't have any.

This place looked secure. River knew her and her girls would be safer inside these high fences than they were outside in the woods with nothing but barbed wire to separate them from the teeming masses of walking death. And Merle was in there. He was a bastard. But he was a tough ass bastard. In this new world, having him around might be an asset instead of a liability. He could help her keep the girls safe. She wouldn't be contantly torn between leaving them alone or taking them with her into possibly dangerous situations.

Just when River thought she had made up her mind, floods of terrible memories came washing back over her. Things she had let go and tried to forget when she was sure Merle was dead and she would never see him again. She lifted her hand up, running the tip of her finger over the crook in the bridge of her nose. An almost unconcious gesture that had brought her strength over the years. Whenever Merle came back around, and he always came back around, sobered up and trying to beg her back, she would feel the spot where he broke her nose.

Occasionally friends would ask her why she didn't just get it fixed. The sugery was quick and simple one they would tell her. The reason was hard for River to explain. Especially when she had already lied and told them she broke her nose in a skateboarding accident when she was a kid. The reason she wouldn't fix the break in her nose was because it served as a physical reminder of how bad things had gotten between her and the father of her children. Everytime she looked in the mirror, River was reminded of all the reasons that she would never ever take him back. The drinking. The other women. The std he gave her while she was pregnant with Wren. The drugs. And most of all the way he got when he was on the drugs. Violent and mean as a rattle snake.

She reminded herself it had not always been that way between them. They had been happy once. Back when she had been young and stupid. She had thought he hung the moon back then. The first day of summer vacation during the summer before she went into high school. That day Merle Dixon had been her hero.

River kicked a crumpled beer can out of her way and headed up the porch steps. She tried knocking on the front door first. There was no answer. So she walked around to the back of the trailer, tackle box in one hand and two fishing poles resting across her shoulder. The lines dangled down a little from the tips of them, swinging as she walked.

The grass in the yard was overgrown. So River stepped carefully, watching for snakes and the angry groundhog that was partial to sleeping in the loose insulation under the Dixon's trailer. She got up on her tiptoes, trying to peek in the window, but she was too short. So she set the tacklebox on the ground and used it as a stepping stool.

River used the sleeve of her tattered old flannel to wipe a clean spot on the window. Then she peeked inside. There was a boy shaped lump on the bed. She giggled and tapped on the window.

"Get yer lazy ass up Daryl," she hollered, "it's almost noon!" She knocked again. "Come'on, yer supposedta go fishin' with me today." Daryl was ususually up and out of his house long before this time of day. He liked to get up and clear out before his dad woke up.

"Daryl!," she yelled again, louder this time. The lump didn't move. River huffed out a sigh of annoyance and thought about leaving and going fishing by herself. But her momma told her she could only walk all the way down to the lake if she took a friend with her. Her momma didn't like her going places by herself.

River headed back around to the front door. She tapped again, a little harder than the last time. The door swung open, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest. River hesitated on the porch. It seemed rude just to walk into someone's house. Especially Daryl's. He was adamant about never letting her inside. And now she knew why. There was garbage and discared mail littered all over the floor. In the center of the room, there was an old pizza box with a dried up slice of pizza still left inside.

"Daryl?" She called inside, hoping her friend would hear her and come out so she wouldn't have to go inside and get him. It was dark in there and it smelled like an old sneaker had a baby with a bottle of jack.

River set her tackle box and fishing rods down on the porch. She hesitated in the doorway a moment, and then quietly stepped inside. She knew which room was Daryl's from the outside, but from the inside of the trailer everything was backwards. She counted the windows. One. The tall thin one that must be the bathroom. And the next room must be Daryl's. The bedroom door was open. River stepped inside, shoving at the lump on the bed. The blanket pushed off, revealing not Daryl, but a pile of dirty laundry instead. Her stomach bottomed out, like she was on an elevator and it moved upwards with a lurch.

"Fuckin' hell," River cursed. Now she was trespassing in someone's house for no reason at all. Fuck fishing. She needed to get the hell out of here quick. River turned and walked quickly back out of the room, her thongs sandals slapping against the bottoms of her feet with each step.

She knew right away something was wrong. There was not as much light coming in from the front door. Because it was being blocked someone's large body. River sucked in her breath. She had seen the man from afar a few times. Mostly stumbling around drunk in the front yard screaming. Never from this close. He looked like Daryl's older brother expect even older and with a beard. Daryl's dad. River realized she didn't even know his name.

"What in the hell do we have here?," the man asked. His voice was deep and he had a thick southern drawl. He was slurring his words a little. Which River was smart enough to know meant the man was drunk.

"Uh," she stuttered, "I was lookin' fer Daryl... the d-d-door was open."

"Lookin' fer Daryl huh?," the man asked, like that was the most amusing thing he had heard all day. He laughed and the sound of it sent a chill up River's back. The man's eyes stared down at her feet and moved his gaze slowly up her body. Like he was eating her up with his eyes.

River was wearing a cheap kmart pair of flip flops and her mother's white bikini. The bathing suit she had didn't fit her in the chest anymore. She had a pair of cutoff jean shorts on over it that were too short and too tight because they were from last year and her mother only had money to buy her new clothes for school. On top she had a beat up old flannel on, which was hanging open. The way Daryl's dad was looking at her made her immediately self concious and River pulled her shirt closed and crossed her arms to keep it shut.

"I know ya," he said, "yer Cynthia Tramp's kid." River nodded, hoping that was the end of this discussion and he would move out of her way so she could leave. But instead the man lounged against the doorframe. "Yer looking awful grown up." River shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously. She wasn't really sure what to say to that last comment, so she nodded her head.

"Goin' to be in high school next year, j-j-just like Daryl," she said.

J-j-j," the man said, imitating her. He laughed again. "Cat got yer tounge sugar?"

The man stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him. Something about being shut inside the trailer with this strange drunk man made River want to panic. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly feeling like it was full of sand.

"I think I betta go home now, my mom's expectin' me," River lied, taking a tentative step to the side and trying to skirt around the large man and get closer to the door. Her mom was at work. Working a double. No one was going to notice she was gone until sixteen hours from now. Her hand hit the doorknob and she twisted it to the right. The door pulled open about two inches revealing a little sliver of light. Then it was quickly snapped shut.

"Got us a little score to settle first," the man said. He was close enough now that River could smell his breath. And it reeked of alcohol. The smell of it was almost enough to make her dizzy. "Ya know trespassin' is illegal."

"I'm r-r-real sorry," River said, "I was jus' lookin' fer Daryl, we was 'upposta go fishin' together today."

"Fishin' huh?," Mr. Dixon said. His mouth was smiling but his eyes were cold. "Tell ya what sugar. You stay an have a beer with me and we'll ferget the whole thang."

A beer? River wasn't sure if she heard right. This guy was a grown up. He had to know she was way too young to drink.

"I'm not allowed," River told him. That made him laugh again.

"Hows about a little kiss then," he said. He grabbed River and tried to press his mouth to hers. She twisted away and he got her cheek instead. River had enough. She didn't like being accused of things she wasn't doing. She didn't like the way this man was looking at her. And she really didn't like him putting his hands on her.

"Let go," she yelped. River shoved at his chest. When she was unable to move his much larger frame away from her she pulled her foot back and kicked him in the leg. Since she was almost barefoot all she suceeded in doing was jamming her toe against the hard bone of his shin.

"Little bitch," he swore. River didn't even see it coming, he hauled his arm back so fast. Using the back of his hand he hit her so hard it knocked her to the ground. River had her little butt paddled a few times by her mother when she was much much younger. And she had gotten into it a few times with other girls from school when they decided she was an easy target because her last name was Tramp. But she had never really been hit before.

Her mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood and the side of her face felt like it was going to explode. She hit the floor on her knees. Before she could recover from the first blow, the man was on top of her. He was a huge bear of a man, and that was without the large potbelly he was carrying in front. He pinned her wrists above her head and started roaming her body with his other hand. Pushing the white triangles of her bikini top out of the way and pinching at her nipples.

River started to cry. She tried asking him to stop but that only made him laugh again. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side. There was a crumpled beer can on the floor under her and it was digging painfully into her lower back. The man was so heavy on top of her that she could barely breathe.

There was a loud noise in the room. The door being kicked in and slamming hard against the wall behind it. Then a hard packing thump sound. And then River could breathe again. The man was not on top of her anymore. She was being hauled to her feet. River opened her eyes, expecting to see Daryl standing there. Come to save her. But instead she was face to face with the older of the two Dixon siblings. Merle. He was dressed in a military uniform and River plucked from somewhere in the back of her mind that he must be home because he finished basic training.

"Run River!," he screamed into her face. Merle shoved her towards the open door. She took a few stumble steps and then ran out onto the porch. Merle was behind her. And then he wasn't. She hit the tall grass of the front yard. One of her shoes was gone. Merle's shiny motorcycle was parked in the road.

River felt the urge to run. Run home and lock the door. But instead she turned around in time to see Merle's dad dragging him back inside the door with one hand as he punched him in the back of the head with the other. Then the man tossed him on the ground. He landed on the old mostly empty box of pizza like he weighed no more than a rag doll. His dad got on top of him and started punching him hard in the face. It looked like he meant to kill him. She had never been so scared in all her life. River's feet were moving before she made up her mind what she was going to do. She grabbed her tackle box up from the front porch. It was actually an old tool box she got at goodwill. A heavy metal one.

She darted back inside the trailer, the box held high over her head. Her breasts were still exposed and there was blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She brought the box down hard on top of the man's head. Because of the awkward angle, it didn't knock him out completely. But it must have hurt like a sumbitch, because he rolled off Merle and flopped on the floor moaning and holding the back of his head.

"Fuck you!," River screamed. Merle scrambled to his feet. He grabbed River by the hand and ran out the front door, dragging her down the steps behind him. He ran for his bike and swung his leg over.

"GET ON!" River had never ridden on a motor cycle before. She was pretty sure she was not allowed to either. Especially with Daryl's brother. Her mom told her that boy was nothing but trouble. He was going to end up behind bars someday. Stay away from him.

River swung her leg over, resting her feet on the little bars that were there for that purpose. Merle kicked one leg down and the bike roared to life between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his middle, realizing as her chest touched against the rough fabric of his uniform that her bathing suit top was still pushed to the side and her breasts were out. He hit the throttle and then they were gone. Trailers flying past them. River could hear Merle's dad screaming at them from the front porch over the hum of the engine. Some of the most awful swears she had ever heard strung together. Hopefully someone would call the cops on him.

She thought Merle would drive her home. But instead he headed out of the trailer park. She thought they were going fast back there, but once they were out on the open country road, she had to tuck her head against his back and close her eyes to keep from being sick from how fast things were whipping past them. Her ponytail was streaming out behind her and she was pressing her cheek so hard against Merle's back that she could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The bike slowed to a crawl before it stopped. River opened her eyes. They were at the little minimart near the edge of town. The one that sold milk and bait out of the same cooler. Merle swung his leg off the bike and stood up.

"Fix yer shirt," he told her. River looked down. Her face turned about 18 differerent shades of red as she adjusted her top so she was decent again. Then just for good measure she buttoned up her flannel shirt as well. Merle caught her by the chin and looked down at her like he was studying her face. Then he turned on his heel and walked into the store.

River wasn't sure what to do, so she swung off the bike and hobble stepped over to the faded wooden bench in front of the store where old men liked to sit and smoke. Thankfully it was unoccupied at the moment. The little bell on the top of the door to go inside jingled again and Merle came walking back out. He had a can of orange crush in his hand and a stryofoam cup and a handful of napkins in the other. He sat down next to River and handed her the napkins first.

"Clean up yer mouth," he said, "there's blood." River did as she was told.

An old woman got out of her car and walked slowly past them, giving her and Merle a suspicious glance. River held her middle finger up at the woman to hurry her along. Nosy bitch. Hopefully that bitch didn't know her mom or she was going to be hearing about that later. Merle laughed.

He stood up and pulled a ziplock bag out of his pocket. There were two small pills left inside. River wondered what they were. If it was asprin she wanted one. But she had a feeling the pills were not asprin. Merle tucked them back into his pocket and poured the ice from the cup into the empty baggie. Then he sat back down and held it to the side of River's mouth.

"What's the soda for?," she asked. Her words come out sounding funny with the bag of ice pressed to her mouth. Like she was imitating a retarded person or something.

"For me to drink ya dummy," he informed her. Really he had bought it so taking a large cup of ice would not arouse the clerk's suspicions. Merle leaned against the back of the bench and scrubbed his face with his hands. So far his homecoming was not going as well as he had hoped.

"What in the hell were you doin' in my house when my dad was there?," he finally asked the girl. He also took a good look at River while she sat there nursing her split lip. The last time he had seen her, she was all knobby knees and pimples. Like a gawky little baby deer. Guess the zits went when her tits came in. She even had a little bit of makeup on. Some black around the edges of her eyes that was smudged now from her tears. She looked at least five years older than the last time he saw her. And ten times prettier.

"I was lookin' fer Daryl," she said with a touch of indignation to her voice. "We were supposta go fishing together. To celebrate him passing 8th grade." That made Merle smile.

"He told me ya been tutorin' him," he told her.

"Really?," she asked. It made her feel good that Daryl felt she was important enough to talk to his brother about her.

The way Merle was looking at her made her feel some kind of way too. She wasn't sure which way. She had never been alone with him before. And never really been this close to him before either. His eyes were so blue. And he looked good in his fatigues. Like a young man instead of a punk teenager. She felt a little blush start to rise up in her cheeks and she looked down, pulling at a loose string that was hanging from her shorts.

"Really." Merle paused a moment. Then he spoke up again. "So is Darylina yer boyfriend now, or what?" If Daryl had half a brain in his head, be would lock this down and tap that ass. Before River figured out she was pretty enough with nice enough titties to get a boyfriend with a car and money to take her out.

"He says that, but..." River said. She stopped and pressed the ice against her lip again.

"But what?," Merle asked her.

"He says that, but I don't really think we are," River said, still fascinated with unravelling the string on her shorts, "cause we never even kissed or nothing."

"That so," Merle asked. River nodded and looked up at him again. His eyes were the same color as the sky behind his head. And the way he was looking at her made her feel like a big bat was flapping around in her stomach. His hand came up first. Slowly, giving her time to back away if she wanted to. He put it over her wrist, pushing the hand that was holding the bag of ice down into her lap. It was cold against the bare skin of her thigh.

Then his hand moved back up, one finger catching her under the chin. He leaned in, getting closer and closer until his lips were pressed to hers. He kissed her on the split side of her lip first. Then full on the mouth, parting her lips to slip just the tip of his tounge between them. When he pulled back, River was still leaning towards him with her eyes shut, like she was waiting for something else to happen. Something magical. Merle laughed, snorting a little air out through his nose.

"Come on River, I betta take you home now."

River moved the tip of her finger down from the bridge of her nose and ran it over her bottom lip, smiling a little at the memory. That was her first kiss. Merle had been on a two week leave from the army. By the end of the first week, she was sneaking out her bedroom window every night to be with him. River never made it to high school. She got pregnant with Harley instead.

"Mom," Harley hissed, "what are we going to do?" River looked at her older daughter. Then she looked back at the high fences that surrounded the prison. She squared up her shoulder, trying to feel determined about her decision.

"We're going in."