Red River Blue
Chapter 18
Spring was slowing giving way to the warmer temperatures of summer. The humidity wasn't oppressive yet, but Harley knew soon it would be so hot outside that even standing in the shade would make her hair frizz. Despite the weather's effect on her curls, the end of spring had always been her favorite time of the year. She made good grades in school, but sitting at a desk all day obeying rules that felt like they had no purpose had never been something she enjoyed. The arrival of summer meant freedom. She could read what she liked instead of what was assigned to her. She could wake up early and go fishing or sleep in late and go for an afternoon swim in the lake if thats what she wanted.
"We're losin' the light," Harley said, speaking quietly to her uncle. He nodded. Being alone in the woods with her Uncle Daryl was almost as good as being alone. Like her, he didn't feel the need to constantly fill the air with meaningless conversation. She had been hunting with him many times before the outbreak. That was how she knew what she was doing. But since the outbreak, the relationship between them had shifted. Instead of treating her like a student, he now treated her as an equal. A partner. Since the last time they had been hunting together, she knew her aim was better and she had learned to walk silently through the woods. Hunger and the pressure of her mom and sister depending on her so they could eat had taught her much faster than lessons from even the best hunter she knew would have been able to.
"There's a place," Daryl said. He lowered his bow and gestured with his hand. "Up ahead a ways. Kin stay there for the night." Harley nodded.
Daryl had been outside the fences a lot more than she had. Mostly with her father or with Michonne. When they were trying to track the governor. Her father and her uncle had given up. There was no point to tracking a cold trail. Looking for the man with no clue of where he had gone would be like trying to find a needle in a walker infested haystack. But Michonne was more stubborn than most. She had already been gone a week this time. One of these days she's going to ride out and never come back. Harley shook off her morbid thoughts about her friend and started paying closer attention to where she was walking. The last thing she needed was to step on some sort of trap or twist her ankle in a gopher hole.
They walked a few minutes more before the trees started to open up in front of them. Harley got a look at the place she guessed her uncle had been talking about. It was dumpy looking cabin, but still far more appealing than sleeping in a tree all night. The place had a familiar feel about it, but it took her a minute to make the connection.
"Looks like Papa Will's place," Harley said. She spoke quietly, speaking really to herself. But her words stopped her Uncle in his tracks. He brushed his bangs out of his face and looked back at her.
"How d'you know what his place looked like?," Daryl asked. He doubted Merle would have taken Harley there. His brother had never had much contact with their father after what the man said to him about getting married to River. Take my advice son, ya can't make a whore into a housewife. Do what you need to with that little tramp girl and then broom her before you knock her up wit' a little bastard that's as useless and sorry as you are. Daryl remembered the man's words as clear as day. Merle had been standing in what passed for the living room of their trailer. Daryl had watched him clench his fists as he stared at their father, who was already halfway through a bottle of cheap whiskey, his ass planted in his easy chair. For a moment, Daryl had been afraid that Merle might kill the man. But then River had come in from the porch. Merle was the only one that knew she was out there, and she had no doubt heard everything that had been said inside the trailer.
Daryl had even been a little afraid for her. Even he was scared to get close to his brother when he was angry. And a that moment, Merle was fuming mad. His jaw was ticking and his entire body was tense. River put her hand on his shoulder first, then lifted it off and reached for him, taking his hand in hers. Its not worth it, let's just go. Merle had cast one more hateful glance at the man in the chair and then turned on his heel and left.
"Merle never took ya there, did he?," Daryl asked his neice. Harley shook her head. Her dad never really took her anywhere. She had seen the cabin later, when Wren was about preschool age. When her grandfather had been dying of lung cancer. And probably cirrhosis of the liver too. She and Wren never went inside, but once a week her mother would drive them out into the woods to leave a basket of food on the man's porch. Muffins and fresh loaves of bread, mixed in with some canned goods. Once he had been sitting outside on the porch and Harley had gotten a look at him. He looked scary, like he was already half dead. Like a walker, though she hadn't known what a walker was yet at that time. He had lifted his hand up and waved at her. Wren ducked down and hid from the man, but Harley lifted her hand and waved back. She wasn't afraid of a sick ugly old man. She wasn't afraid of anyone.
"Mom," Harley said.
"River took you there?," Daryl asked, a touch of disbelief in his voice. Harley nodded.
"After he got sick," Harley explained, "Mom used to take him food once a week." Daryl shook his head, snorting air out through his nose. That explained a few things. He had visited with his father a few times towards the end. The man would call Daryl when he needed his medication filled. Because he knew if he called his other son, Merle would take half the pain pills for himself.
When Daryl went to the cabin, there were always half eaten loaves of bread lying around going stale. And not the sort of bread you could buy wrapped up in plastic wrap from the store. It looked homemade. His father refused to say where he got it, so Daryl had just assumed maybe some kindly neighbor had brought it. That possibility seemed unlikely, since the only neighbors his father had either lived too far away or hated him with an all consuming passion. But it was the only explanation that Daryl had been able to come up with at the time. River was the last person he would have ever guessed was taking pity on his father. Not after what he tried to do to her back when they were kids.
A walker stumbled into the small clearing, pulling Daryl out of his thoughts. Harley moved faster then he did, raising her bow and shooting it through the eye with an arrow. They stepped around it and headed up the rickety steps to the door of the cabin. Daryl had been inside the place before. He and Michonne had found it while they were out searching for the governor. He had been careful to steer clear of the place when Merle was with him, since the entire shed was full of moonshine. Daryl thought about dumping the stuff out, or throwing the jars away into the woods, but for some reason he never did. It sort of felt like it was waiting there for someone.
Despite having been in the small house before, Daryl and Harley checked the place to make sure it was clear. They sat cross legged on the floor and drank bottled water with the peanut butter and peach jam sandwiches River had packed in Harley's bag for them. There was a note in the bag with the food.
Be careful and hurry back.
Love, Mom.
P.S. Tell your uncle to track us down a boar, I want pork chops.
Harley laughed at the note before handing it over for Daryl to read. The note made him smile. He had been thinking about going for a deer, there were a lot more of them around so the hunting was easier. But he had seen pig tracks not to far away from the cabin. In the end they would get whatever animal crossed their path. But it wouldn't hurt to try for a boar. Pork chops sounded good to him too.
TWD
Harley fell alseep in the large armchair. Her gun was resting in the holster on her hip and her bow was across her lap. Daryl laid down on the floor with his head resting on his bag, but despite his body being tired from a long days hike, sleep alluded him. His mind was swirling with thoughts of his father and his brother and River and the strained and strange relationships he had with all of them over the years. Thinking about his father always left him feeling upset and angry. To calm himself down he thought about Carol. She had a soothing presence.
It was dark out, so they were probably already done eating dinner at the prison. People were starting to settle down and go to bed. River would help Carol clear up all the dinner dishes and they would stick them out in the big tub outside to soak. Then the two of them liked to sit near the raised vegetable gardens and share a mug of tea if there was tea to be had. When they were done, the dishes would be retrieved from the soapy water to be scrubbed and rinsed so they were ready for breakfast. River would head off to bed with Merle and Carol would go to her room alone.
When they cleared out the other cellblock for the former Woodbury residents, Merle had taken his girls and moved. Daryl had gone with them, taking the cell on the other side of Harley and Wren's room. A few days later, Carol had moved her things over too, taking an open cell upstairs from him. She never said why she moved. Daryl had assumed it was because she wanted to be closer to River. The two of them were close friends now. But sometimes he liked to pretend that she had moved to be closer to him.
About this time of the night, Carol would head upstairs to her room. She kept a little stash in there. Not alcohol or pills like some people had. It was a little shoebox full of candy. Sometimes when the prison was quiet with the sounds of people settling in for the night, Daryl would hear her up there crinkling wrappers.
Daryl pushed his shirt up, scratching at his stomach. He had a clear picture Carol in his mind now. She was wearing that grey top that River gave her, the one that tied in front. Not that anything she wore was ever overtly sexy, but that one was slightly lower cut and clingier then the rest of her shirts. She wore a lightweight blue sweater over it and when she bent down, she would hold the sweater closed with her hand to keep anyone from getting a peek down her shirt. For some reason unknown to him, Daryl found that small unconcious gesture so much sexier than a woman showing her breasts on purpose. It made him want to see what was inside her shirt.
Daryl cursed under his breath and twisted back to make sure Harley was still asleep. He wasn't feeling upset about his dad anymore, but now he was stuck in a cabin with his teenage niece and a giant boner in his pants. Which as far as he was concerned, made him a double pervert. First he was a pervert for getting wood when his neice was sleeping a few feet away, and secondly he was an even bigger pervert for thinking about Carol in the first place. They were friends, but he knew their relationship was never going to move beyond that. There was no way she was interested in him. He was a dirty redneck that had never had a real job his entire life. Even if she was willing to overlook that fact, she probably still thought he was too young for her.
Daryl pulled at the crotch of his pants, which were now uncomfortably tight. He tried to banish the images of Carol shirtless from his mind. What he needed to do was think about anything other than that. Walkers. He thought about them growling mindlessly along the fenceline of the prison, ripping their flesh off as they tried to stick their hands through the narrow openings in the chain link.
"Kick yer fuckin' ass!," Harley hollered. One of her long legs shot out, kicking at an assailant that only she could see. Her bow clattered to the floor next to her chair. Daryl about jumped out of his skin. Then he realized that the girl was just dreaming. He laughed at himself for spooking so easy. And he laughed at Merle's daughter. Even in her dreams Harley was ready for a fight. Daryl reached behind him, grabbing her outstretched foot and giving it a shake. The girl bolted up into a sitting position.
"What?," she asked, rubbing at her face with one hand while her other hand felt for the gun on her hip.
"Nuttin," Daryl told her, "you were havin' a bad dream." Harley nodded her head and flopped back into the chair. Daryl waited until he knew the girl had fallen back to sleep. It didn't take long. She hadn't even looked fully awake when she sat up and spoke to him. Daryl got up and adjusted the extra shirt she was using as a blanket. Then he quietly exited the cabin and headed out to the shed. What he needed was a drink.