The Wolf You Feed

Chapter 73

Daryl forced down his last bite of canned stew and rice before he pushed back from the table and rubbed his hand over his stomach. He felt slighted when he was only served up a portion about half the size of what the other men were getting. But now he was grateful. If he had forced down a full bowl he would have thrown up for sure. A man with a shaved head approached, regarding Daryl with a look of concern and suspicion.

"I was gonna offer you a beer, but you look a little green around the gills man," the man observed. He stayed a step back while he waited for Daryl to answer, a can of beer that was already open in one hand and the unopened one he had grabbed for Daryl in the other.

"I'm good," Daryl said, assuring the man, "I'll drink it slow."

"Right on," the other man responded, sitting down in the seat he had vacated minutes before and handing Daryl the beer.

Daryl cracked the can open and did as he promised, just taking a sip of the lukewarm beverage. He leaned back in his chair and looked around the room. The group was mostly men. But there were a few women among them. One was the wife of one of the men. Her husband was holding their small daughter on his lap, facing out so the baby could wave and grin her little gummy smile at everyone.

The men here were tough. Daryl had known the moment he arrived that they were all soldiers. But even they couldn't resist the charms of a small chubby face baby. No one passed by her without a smile or a wave. Some even leaned down to grab one of her little hands or press a kiss to her head. It made Daryl think about everyone fawning over Judith at the prison. They had lost so many friends along the way and he longed for the family he had left. And he thought about how he ended up entangled with this new one.

Daryl had considered every possible scenario in his mind as he walked north barefoot through the shallow creek. His goal was to find the Saviors and infiltrate their group. And he had thought about all the ways that he might do it. In the end, it happened completely by accident. A man that was hunting in the woods had been treed by a small herd of walkers. Daryl helped the man out and killed them. After his recent experience, Daryl was hesitant to return to the man's camp with him. But the man had referred to his camp as an outpost, a word Daryl knew the Saviors used for their outlying camps. The next thing he knew, Daryl was eating canned soup with Negan's soldiers.

"Merle!," Gavin hollered, breaking Daryl out of his reminiscence.

Daryl ticked his chin at the man, indicating that the man had his full attention.

"We got a pickup in the morning and you're going," Gavin told him, "...so you better not still be drunk when I wake your ass up."

Daryl fought back the urge to assure the man that he only had plans to sip this one beer. That wasn't something Merle would say. And since he couldn't tell the saviors who he really was, that's who Daryl was. For now. It was the easiest sort of lie. Close enough to the truth that he wouldn't get his story mixed up. And Merle would fit in better with the Saviors than he would. These were Merle's kind of people.

"I kin handle my fuckin' alcohol," Daryl hollered.

Gavin shrugged and headed on his way. Daryl watched him stop to smile at the baby before he left the room. He wasn't what Daryl pictured when he thought about Negan's lieutenants. The man was quiet and serious. He was well respected by his men. And from what Daryl had seen so far, he was tough when he needed to be but didn't overstep his position. Daryl didn't want to admit it but the man seemed like a good leader. And maybe even a good man.

Morning came quickly after another night of restlessness. Even with a full stomach, Daryl had a hard time getting to sleep and staying asleep. He was used to Rowan's slim body next to his. She would rest her head on his chest with one slim thigh hiked across his hip. Or he would cuddle in behind her with his hand on the small swell of her pregnant stomach. Sleep came easy when she was safe in his arms. He pushed thoughts of the woman from his mind and readied himself for the day.

The ride wasn't very long. Daryl rode shotgun in Gavin's truck. They parked all the trucks in an empty lot and waited. Daryl lounged against the hood of the truck, his casual stance hiding the turmoil he was feeling inside. He wasn't sure exactly what was about to happen. But he knew they were here to take supplies that Negan was extorting from another group. That's what the Saviors did. It was how they lived.

When Daryl heard another vehicle approaching he straightened up and gripped his gun. He reminded himself that his brother would have no moral qualms about stealing from another group. On the contrary, Merle would have thought this was a great way to get supplies.

The moment Daryl saw the woman driving the truck he felt his stomach bottom out. Not everyone in the other group was known to him. But he knew her. The scars where she had been scratched across the face by a tiger were hard to miss. Katie. She was one of the women that had taken him and Carl prisoner all those months ago. If she recognized him she could ruin everything. She could get him killed.

Daryl forced himself to keep his breathing slow and even. His hair was still only sandy brown stubble on his head. And he had two weeks worth of patchy beard on his face. That's why he never grew a full beard. Because the hair grew in patchy. The chances of her recognizing him were slim. He barely recognized himself.

"The melons aren't ripe yet," Katie said, directing her words to Gavin, "There's nothing I can do about it. We brought you a couple extra chickens and another flat of green beans to make up the difference."

Gavin nodded his agreement to the substitution. While he didn't like changes in the tribute amount, he understood that when produce ripened wasn't something anyone could control. And this group always overcompensated when they couldn't supply the demanded items. That's the reason Gavin chose to be in charge of this outpost. This group of people were the easiest to deal with. He didn't even have to go into their camp. They brought the shit and met them halfway.

"Your melons look ripe enough to me!"

Daryl glanced towards the man that had yelled. His name was Jared. He had long hair and was one of the few in the group that Daryl had immediately recognized as a total asshole. Jared lifted his hand to his mouth and stuck out his tongue in an obscene gesture. Daryl wanted nothing more than to punch his face in. But instead he forced himself to laugh. Merle would laugh.

"FUCK YOU!," Katie hollered back. A younger woman was already gripping her by the arm, keeping Katie from charging forward.

Jared grabbed his crotch and gestured for Katie to come at him.

"ENOUGH!," Gavin hollered. He shot Jared a warning look as he spoke. "Go unload the rest of the shit."

Daryl watched as Jared headed over and grabbed a crate of beans from the back of the other truck. When he glanced back at Katie he saw she had focused her shrewd eyes on him. The way she was staring was more than casual. She was clearly trying to figure out where she had seen him before. Suddenly her eyes lit up with recognition. Daryl shook his head. The movement was small and made with a silent prayer that she would listen. Then he slung his gun onto his back and headed for the truck. Daryl grabbed a small cage with a fat white chicken inside. He took a few steps before he pretended to trip. The cage clattered to the ground. The wire door of the cage swung open. Katie rushed forward, shoving the large bird's head back inside as Daryl moved to refasten the latch on the door. This was the only chance he was going to get to speak to her without the other saviors hearing him. He knew he had to take it.

"Meet me here tonight," he hissed at the woman, "two hours after sundown."