A/N: I know it has been a very long time since I have updated this story and I do apologize for the delay. I promise, I have not abandoned this story in any way; I'm still working 2 jobs (about 50-60 hours a week) and just have not had the time to write. I will try to update this whenever possible.
Chapter 5
This day is going down as one of the top 10 worse days of my life…
First, my damn deer was eaten, then I find out Merle was handcuffed to a roof and left behind in Atlanta; when I finally get there, the son of a bitch cuts his own hand off and leaves the building. The Chinaman somehow manages to get himself kidnapped and once we finally got him back we're short at least a dozen or so guns (not to mention a good chunk of ammo's gone). The cherry on top, when we finally get back to camp, biters are everywhere and about half our group gets wiped out in a matter of minutes.
No one's gotten any sleep, everyone left standing is grouchy as fuck, and I'm one of the few actually handling business the way it should've been all along. There's just one fucking problem…
Amy.
Poor kid got bit last night and now her sister is just waiting there with her by the RV, waiting for her to turn for whatever reason but it ain't none of my business.
The sun is riding high on what has to be one of the hottest days of the year as I let a pickaxe fall heavily into the skull of one of the dead. Once the job was done I moved on to the next while others came up behind me to do away with the body, whether it was to burn it or bury it.
It wasn't until I heard the distinct sound of a gun cocking that I even drew my attention away from what I was doing. Whatever was said between Blondie and Officer Friendly must've been alarming enough for him to slowly back away and back to where the rest of us were looking on.
"Y'all can't be serious? Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl is a time bomb." I said, looking on in disbelief as they left two sisters alone.
"What do you suggest?"
"Take the shot," I started matter-of-factly, "clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."
"No, for God's sakes, let her be."
Seeing as the matter was settled, I scoffed and got back to work, "Wake up Jimbo, we've got some work to do."
Dropping the axe for a moment, myself and one of the others (I think his name was Morales, or some other Mexican sounding name) picked up one of the dead and shuffled our way over to the fire that had been burning for the last few hours. Just as we were about to heft the body into the flames, the Chinaman decided to speak up.
"What are you guys doing? This is for geeks, our people go over there."
"What's the difference? They're all infected."
"Our people go in that row over there." We each dropped an arm of the body we were carrying and looked at the Chinaman in slight confusion as to why he'd want to bury an infected body. "We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there."
Whatever his reasons are, at least he grew one ball.
As we picked the arms again, we dragged the body over to where the Chinaman wanted but I couldn't stop myself from muttering out loud in frustration.
"You reap what you sow."
"You know what? Shut up, man!"
"Y'all left my brother for dead! You had this coming!" As I stormed off in some unknown direction I couldn't help but think to myself if this day could get any worse.
Not even a minute had passed when this thought bubbled into my head that someone was shouting that Jim got himself bit. Everything was thrown into panic as I lifted up his shirt to reveal the bite. We all knew that it was just a matter of time before he turned and I was more than ready to nip it in the bud then and there; doing what had to be done because no one else had what it took.
"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it."
"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane quipped, with a look that seemed to ask if I'd be so quick to kill if it were Claire.
"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." There was little feeling behind what I said, aside from this douche, I didn't know any of these people so why should I care who put me outta my misery as long as it got done.
I only caught clips and phrases of what the Old Man and Officer Friendly were saying. Their words were mixing together as my frustrations continued to grow and my patience grew thinner by the minute. At some point I had to wonder if the heat was making everyone think the world hadn't ended.
"I hate to say it, I never thought I would – but, maybe Daryl's right."
"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog."
"I'm not suggesting-"
"He's sick, a sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"
"The line's pretty clear, zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be." I piped in, recalling the ground rules that were laid out after Merle and I got here.
"What if we can get him help? I heard the CDC's working on a cure."
"I heard that too, heard a lot of thing before the world went to hell." Hearing Shane's voice enter the faltering lines of communication made me cringe; he ain't done a fucking thing since I got here except park his fucking ass in a chair on the RV and bark out orders.
"What if the CDC is still up and running?"
"Man, that is a stretch right there."
"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection-"
The more they tried to talk out a solution, the more they tried to stall, the more reality started sinking in that Jim was as much as a time bomb as that dead girl and someone was going to have to do something. The world ain't like it was before, no matter how much they try to make it be. These days, you either put down the walkers or they'll put you down.
"You go looking for aspirin, do what you need to do. Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"
I was just about ready to bring the pickaxe down on Jim's head when the sound of a gun cocking somewhere close to my head rang out in my ears.
"We don't kill the living."
"That's funny, coming from a man who just put a gun to my head." I stated, lowering the axe.
Just as I turned around to face Jim again, I was confronted by Shane being a personal bodyguard for a change.
"We may disagree on some things, not on this. You put it down. Go on."
Shoving the axe into the ground I stormed off in yet another unknown direction to be left alone for a few minutes, naturally though, I gravitated towards my truck. Leaning over the hood with my elbows propped up and my chin in my hands, I stood there scowling as the rest of the camp continued to tiptoe around each other. Why couldn't they see that these things needed to be taken care of? Why can't they just grow a pair of balls and get it done and over with?
"Daryl, has anyone ever told you that your delivery leaves something to be desired? You're right that Shane is a fucking psychopath and you're right that no one in this one-horse town wants to believe that; I mean who wants to believe that a cop, someone that the public is supposed to trust, is capable of having those kinds of thoughts especially about his partner's wife. I get where you're coming from, I'm not blind, but you can't just go around shouting that shit from the rooftops."
"The fuck am I supposed to do then, huh?"
"Find a better way to say it, screaming the truth in someone's face makes you look like the psychopath. Remember that hurricane that blew through a few years ago? Remember how it only took one person losing their fucking mind over the gas station running out of gas to incite that entire crowd and send them into a riot? You have to keep a level head and find a better way to say things. Either that or just walk away."
After a brief period of time to myself, I pushed off the truck and set myself back to work; picking up another pickaxe, I started hammering away into the heads of those that were once part of our group. This is the way it was for me until I came up to what was left of that wife beater. I grew up watching my old man beat up on my mom like it was nothing; I knew it was wrong and I'll never forget what Claire had told me.
"You ever lay a hand on me or think about it, you better pray the cops get here before my dad does. He's got enough firepower to take out a small army and enough acreage that they'll never be able to find the entire body."
His wife, who I learned a few days ago went by Carol, came staggering up with a face full of fresh tears and dirt pleading that she do the job before he turned, "I'll do it, he's my husband."
The axe easily weighed her frail frame down but she mustered up enough strength to swing it into his skull like an old pro, but after that first swing she kept going. I could see the years of hurt, anger, and pain flash with each swing before she tired herself out and gave the axe back. Somehow, I had a feeling that she may be my greatest ally through all of this. Neither of us knew each other from before but they always say that damaged people gravitate towards damaged people.
With Jim in hiding & the dead girl finally staying dead, we hauled the ones to be buried into the bed of my truck and made our way up the hillside. I found the pair of cops talking amongst themselves as I shut the truck off and climbed out, making it known just how I felt on the whole situation.
"I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?" I asked, directing the question at Shane since it was pretty much his idea since I've been here to burn the bodies in an effort to prevent this infection from spreading.
"At first."
"The Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are."
"There are no rules."
"Well, that's a problem. We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do."
Huh, guess that dumb bitch has a point but I tell ya what, if it were me or Merle, they wouldn't mourn either of us. They'd probably throw our bodies on the fire as quick as they could then take our shit before we turned to ash.
Minutes turned into hours as we mottled around in a daze just thinking about everything that happened today. I was just dropping my axe for the day when Shane spoke up as those of us who finished our work gathered around the fire pit.
"I've uh, I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Now look, there are no – there are no guarantees either way, I'll be the first to admit that. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"
I get why they wanna move on, after what happened last night, I hate to admit that even I want to leave but with Claire, and now Merle, out there the chances of finding either one of them now are pretty much gone. After three long years of not seeing her, I've forgotten what she even looks like. Only thing I can remember really is that red hair of hers made her stick out like sore thumb. Guess my next move is to pack the truck up in the morning and stick with this outfit until something else comes along.
"One of these days one of you is gonna wind up dead and the other will have no one to lean on. All the booze and drugs in the world will only ever be enough to numb the pain. When you sober up, you'll realize that you're all alone in this world and the one person who actually gave a fuck about the Dixon boys will have left a long time ago."
The sun was just starting to set when I decided to park my ass on a boulder overlooking the quarry; the array of pinks, oranges, and purples had me thinking back on all those fall nights Claire would hop on the back of the bike and we'd go riding through the mountains. She always said how much she loved being there, that there was just something about being away from everyone and everything that made her feel like she could finally be at peace. She also said that I was like a duck in water when we were here.
All these dead memories started making my eyes burn the longer I thought about them. Using the back of my hand, I wiped away any stray tears that may have fallen and took a deep breath to steady myself. Exhaling, I peeled my eyes from the darkening skyline and focused my attention to fading voices that came from the camp behind me. They were reminding each other that we were moving out in the morning and to get as much sleep as possible. While the air around me grew colder the voices quieted down to near silence, except for two.
Footsteps crunched the leaves loudly and the twigs snapping sounded even louder than normal. Neither of them knew I was out here, and it was probably for the best.
"Shane, I told you, my husband is back and my family is off limits. You leave Carl alone, he is not your son, he will never be your son. Do you understand me?"
"Look Lori, Rick is my best friend and if I could've traded places with him, I would. If I could've taken that bullet for him that day, I would. But I knew what Rick would've wanted the day everything went to shit; he would've wanted me to get you and Carl out of there, he would've wanted me to get you two to Atlanta."
"Shane that is enough! It is over, do you hear me? It is over! What we had is no more. Jesus Christ, you made me think my husband was dead, you-"
"I didn't make you think or do anything, you did that on your own. You were the one who was lonely; you came on to me when Carl was working on his homework."
"You stay the hell away from us, do you hear me? This is over!"
The Drama Queen stormed off back to camp and left Deputy Douche by himself to think things over. Claire was so sure that the two of them were shacking up years ago but hearing it with my own ears makes me…
Doesn't matter anyway.
Once I was sure that Shane had gone back to camp I got up from the boulder I was sitting on and made my way back to my tent. The blankets were still strewed about on Merle's cot and his bag was still lying open on the ground with his smaller bag of drugs sitting out in the open. Picking it up I plopped down on my own cot and turned the bag every which way trying to decide which one I wanted to take.
Crystal, oxy, fentanyl, heroin…
"Daryl, I know you don't want to talk about it, but what did your dad do that hurt you so bad that you have to take drugs just to numb the pain?"
"You could never understand." I answered, throwing a meth-laced straw into the brush fire.
"I just want to know why; you're not you when you're using. Meth makes you go insane, heroin makes you twitchy, 'shrooms and weed make you see things that aren't there. Seeing Merle's body on my kitchen floor six months ago just has me really scared for you."
"Ain't got no reason to be scared for me, I'm gonna die one day anyway so why does it matter how?"
"I'm not gonna argue with you, not while you're messed up. Just know that if you die now, it'll affect more people than you can imagine. Most of all, it'll hurt me the most. Good night, Daryl."
"Good night Claire." I muttered, taking a half-empty bottle from the bag and popping a few of the pills, letting the remainder of the contents fall to the ground.
