Visions of a White Trash Legacy
"What? But I ain't got no Gifts," Daryl spat.
Morgan continued smirking and met the living Dixon's quizzical gaze. "And that's part a the problem. You have a very vulnerable soul. You're more at risk here than she is."
Beth saw Merle shifting his weight uncomfortably, stepping away from the mantle and eyeballing Morgan's back with pursed lips. He looked nervous. He looked… a little scared. He felt Beth's eyes on him and shot her a frown, furrowing his brow. But before she could decipher the expression on his face, Daryl was bursting out with more questions.
"The hell's that mean?" Daryl growled. "You threatening me?"
Morgan chuckled and shook his head. "Most definitely not. I have no qualms with you, Daryl. I simply have a… let's call it a gut feeling about this whole situation. And my gut feelings have a tendency of comin' to fruition."
"My brother wouldn't hurt me," Daryl said. "So what else're you tryin' ta tell me I should be worried about?"
Merle was practically squirming where he stood but Beth was too preoccupied with trying to figure out what Morgan could be implying to take notice.
Morgan put out his hands quizzically and said, "I don't know for sure yet. That's what we're gonna find out."
"An' how d'you plan on doin' that? You gonna do some more palm readings?" Daryl taunted.
"Daryl, stop bein' rude," Beth interjected, reaching out and placing a hand tentatively on his arm. He turned his head and looked at her, furrowing his brow. "He's tryin' to help us. Just give 'im a chance."
He's already told me things about myself that I didn't even know, we have to hear what else he has to say. She didn't want to say it aloud, so she willed Daryl to read it in her eyes as she stared intently at him, pressing her lips tightly together and giving his arm a light squeeze.
Thankfully, he seemed to interpret her expression. Although he was looking at her differently. There was something else in his azure eyes that hadn't been there a few minutes ago. And she wasn't sure that she liked it.
"I am trying to help you," Morgan agreed. "And it's not gonna be easy. Definitely won't be fun. But I promise I have no ill will towards you - towards either of you."
"Why, though?" Daryl asked, his tone softening just slightly as he turned back to Morgan. "Y'don't even know us. Why would you wanna help at all?"
Beth frowned, feeling a rush of sadness as she witnessed just how distrusting Daryl actually was. It was like he didn't believe in the existence of anything - ghosts or good people. She'd forgotten that her hand was still on his arm and she discreetly pulled it away.
Morgan shrugged. "Because I want to. Helping people makes me feel like I'm puttin' something back into the world. It gives me a sort of purpose for these Gifts. They feel more like a curse sometimes, and I can't always help the people I see. But when I can, I try my damnedest."
Daryl narrowed his eyes with suspicion. Then he gave a clipped nod and asked, "So what all'd ya see about me in those weird little visions a yers? Why're you so sure that I'm some kinda big player in this shitshow?" His voice was still heavy with doubt.
Morgan chuckled in a very Swamp Witch-like manner and replied, "Because even though we've just met, I already know you."
"If you want him ta listen, you've gotta stop soundin' so ominous," Merle quipped from behind him.
Morgan glanced back at Merle over his shoulder and said, "I'm not being ominous. It's all a matter of perspective."
"Yer bein' pretty ominous," Daryl said, agreeing with the voice he couldn't hear.
"He's not wrong," Beth chirped up meekly.
Morgan rolled his eyes in defeat before standing from the chair. He carried it back over to the covered table, then stepped aside and gestured for them to join him. "Have a seat over here. I think this'll be our best bet if we want some real answers."
He glanced to Merle scornfully, though it was brief and Beth wasn't sure she'd interpreted it correctly.
She and Daryl exchanged a look of concern quickly followed by a look of 'might as well,' then they both stood up and moved across the room to sit side-by-side in two of the chairs on one side of the circular table. Morgan took the seat across from them, scooting his chair in until he was comfortable. As soon as they were all settled, he grabbed a handful of the blanket that was draped across the table and swiftly yanked it away. He tossed it to the floor.
And sitting atop the center of the tabletop was an actual, real-life crystal ball. The cloudy glass reflected the weak sunlight that poured into the cabin. The crystalline surface almost glistened, like the murky surface of a deep river.
Daryl burst out with a laugh of disbelief. Beth glanced over at him and saw his cheeks flushing pink, but Morgan chose to ignore the jerk reaction. She kept her lips pressed together, withholding any stupid questions that might want to escape.
A crystal ball might seem ridiculous, but she was determined to give Morgan the chance he was asking for. She'd hear him out, at least. And so would Daryl. She could already tell that the living Dixon was in too deep to walk away without having a few specific questions answered. No matter how the answers happened to come about.
Merle should've been laughing when he walked over to linger beside the table, but he was silent. He stood a few feet back, eyes narrowed and mouth tightly shut for once. He looked a bit tense and guarded, his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed over his chest like he was hiding something. As though he were waiting for a shoe to drop.
Where's the other shoe? Beth wondered.
Her stomach clenched with dread and she looked to Morgan, who was resting his elbows on the edge of the table and clasping his hands together before him. He appeared to be waiting for some kind of comment.
"Nothing?" He finally asked, looking from Daryl to Beth and back again. "No smartass comments about the crystal ball?"
Daryl shrugged and muttered, "Figured I'd give ya a chance." He glanced over at Beth and added, "Wasn't tryn'a be rude or nothin'."
Morgan smiled and said, "Well, thank you for that."
Beth suppressed a smirk.
"Now let's get down to business," he went on, his tone becoming serious. "Daryl, I've seen you nearly as much as I've seen Beth. Though I'll admit, not nearly as much as I would've liked. I tried ta see more, in order to figure out how exactly I could help you. But I simply couldn't. I'm not sure why, but my guess is that she and I share more of a connection because of our Gifts. All I know is that you are heavily involved and you play an integral part in the grand scheme of whatever this may be."
Daryl paused, absorbing what he'd just been told before slowly responding, "You - saw me that much? Like… even before Merle died?"
Morgan nodded. "Of course."
"Like what?" Beth asked. She felt Daryl looking at her with surprise but she kept her gaze on the man across the table.
"Well, this involves Merle, so it's a given that Daryl would be intertwined with it," Morgan explained, glancing to Beth then settling his intense stare on Daryl. "Not like 'intertwined fates' or whatever - but your lives are connected. Beth is Gifted to see - and help - Merle, and you share blood with him. It was inevitable that your paths would cross. You're brothers; a bond that can't be broken. Especially under your circumstances."
"My circumstances?" Daryl repeated.
"You and Merle's circumstances," Morgan reiterated. "I saw how you grew up, Daryl… I saw the mother who unconditionally loved you and the father who selfishly wanted you dead. And I saw Merle's place in your life, how his absence affected you, how he inevitably contributed to shaping who you became."
Beth held her breath and watched Daryl from the corner of her eye, too nervous to look away from Morgan. But the living Dixon didn't even flinch. He nodded weakly, urging the other man to go on. And he did.
"I know what kinda world you had to survive in. More than anything else, I saw how much Merle meant to you. I saw how much you meant to him." Morgan raised his eyebrows and leaned forward just the slightest bit. "Your old man tried ta beat every last ounce of hope outta you. But Merle wouldn't let him. If you'd known before all this that he was the one to kill your father, you wouldn't have loved him any less… Would you have?"
Daryl shook his head slowly, eyes wide and lips parted.
Morgan nodded, pleased with the answer he'd been anticipating. He added, "Merle was a despicable human being, but he was your brother. And he knows just as well as you do that you were always the better man. That's why he resented you. That's why he pushed you away."
"No, he pushed me away 'cause I wouldn't follow his stupid ass around no more," Daryl said, his voice cracking and becoming defensive. "Never resented me 'cept when I wanted ta think fer myself."
"Oh, fuck you," Merle objected loudly. "You was always a pussy, fuckin' mama's boy. I was tryin' ta toughen you up!"
"He was a know-it-all fuckin' asshole. Textbook narcissist."
"You couldn't even spell narcissist, ya stupid prick."
Morgan shook his head and spoke louder to drown Merle out, "No, that's not what I mean. It's true that you both developed vastly different outlooks on the world, but that doesn't mean your bond is weakened. I - "
"I don't give a fuck about bonds an' brotherhood," Daryl interrupted, the frustration rising in his voice once more. He slashed a hand through the air and asked, "The fuck'd you see 'bout me? Huh? What the hell's this bullshit got ta do with me when I didn't have shit ta do with Merle 'fore he hung himself?"
"I didn't hang myself!" Merle yelled out.
Morgan tsked softly, glancing away and down at the crystal ball blankly. "I'm still not sure. But I saw… money. An insurance claim or somethin' like that. And a lot of cash. It kept popping up when I witnessed your mother dying and the cabin that your father bought. I saw it again, very briefly, when I glimpsed Merle hanging from his bedroom ceiling. I could sense a broken promise, and the stench of revenge was everywhere. I don't have an explanation yet, though."
"Not even an educated guess?" Beth asked. She hadn't meant to burst out, but she couldn't help herself. All of this new information was only giving her more questions. And the biggest one was how the hell all of this fit into her life.
Morgan returned her expectant gaze with a disappointed look. He shrugged weakly and motioned toward Merle standing behind him as he said, "Unless this one wants ta tell us the whole story."
Beth's eyes flicked over to Merle and narrowed. "You've been leavin' things out. Why? Why won't you just tell us? If you really wanted help, you'd be tellin' us everything you know. But yer makin' us run around in a rat race - "
"Ain't no rat race, blondie. I done told ya everything I know," Merle cut her off. Then he paused and hesitantly added, "Most everything…"
Her mouth fell open and she leaned back in her seat, appalled. Daryl was looking back and forth between her and Morgan, trying to figure out what was going on. Morgan sighed.
"I knew it," Beth muttered. "I knew there was something you were leavin' out."
"'M not leavin' nothin' out that has ta do with the fact that I was fucking murdered!" Merle threw his hands out and stepped forward. "How 'bout y'all geniuses start with that little detail?!"
She rolled her eyes and waved him off dismissively. "Right, like we're s'posed ta believe you were murdered now that we know you haven't been tellin' us anything that - "
"Actually," Morgan cut in, and the tone of his voice made Beth's lips snap shut. He held up a finger, motioning for her to pause the argument with Merle, and said, "I don't think he's wrong about that."
Beth and Daryl simultaneously burst out in disbelief:
"What?"
"You gotta be shittin' me."
Merle laughed triumphantly while Morgan nodded and explained, "It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility. I mean - it would make sense. If he'd actually taken his own life, I don't think he'd still be stuck here. And I don't think he'd be able to ask us for help. There's a lot more at play here and… he might not even know it."
Merle's laughter grew louder and he was grinning, clapping his hands happily. "'Bout time somebody fuckin' agreed with me! See, blondie? I told you!"
"He's sayin' yer just as clueless as we are, moron," Beth snapped, glaring at the dead Dixon.
His laughter ceased and he frowned before quickly shrugging it off. "Whatever. 'M still right."
"There's nothing ta be right about, I - "
"Don't waste your energy arguing with him," Morgan interjected. "He's clueless for now. Let's change that."
"How?" Daryl asked before Beth had the chance.
Morgan gestured to the big crystal ball sitting before them. "With this."
Daryl scoffed. Merle cackled, leaning against the wall behind Morgan.
Beth glared at Merle first, then turned to Daryl and snapped, "This isn't funny."
"I'm not laughing," he said defensively. "Never said it was funny."
She sighed and shook her head, turning back to Morgan and saying, "Merle got really spooked before we came in here. He made me promise ta help him no matter what we found out today."
"I wasn't spooked," Merle corrected. "I was jus' makin' sure you wasn't about ta go back on yer word, princess."
Morgan raised his eyebrows, intrigued, and said, "He claims to not remember any of the events pertaining to his death - correct?"
She nodded in affirmation.
Then he glanced back at Merle and asked, "And after your death? You remember that part very clearly, don't you?"
Merle's face fell, eyes flicking between Morgan, Beth, and Daryl. He put on a tight-lipped smile and replied, "Sure I do. Ain't no concern fer the likes of you, though - the living. Y'all got no business knowin' what goes on in the afterlife."
"Bullshit," Beth spat. "This is all our business now. You made it our business when you asked fer help."
"What's he sayin'?" Daryl asked, confused.
"He doesn't remember his death, but he remembers whatever happened to bring him to this point," Morgan explained. "And he doesn't wanna tell us."
"Well, what did you see?" Daryl asked.
Morgan straightened his back and paused while Merle commented, "Yeah - tha's a good fuckin' question. What did you see, Mr. Swamp Witch?"
"Like I said, I didn't see nearly as much as I would've liked to," Morgan answered, focusing his gaze on Daryl. "When it comes to Merle's possible murder… I saw the noose and I heard his last breaths. And I caught - a… no more than a glimpse…"
"Of what?" Daryl urged impatiently.
"A man. A white man," Morgan's voice lowered as he recounted what he remembered, and his eyes flicked down to stare blankly at the crystal ball while he spoke. "Someone tall. I saw the back of his head - he had straight brown hair. He was surrounded by a terrible aura, and he reeked of malice and greed and… death. The stench of revenge that seemed to be so palpable everywhere in Merle's house was comin' off this man in waves. He walked with a slight limp in his left leg. But he faded away before I could see his face. I was not permitted anymore visions before I could so much as hear his voice or see where he'd come from or how long he'd been there."
When he finished, he turned back to Merle and asked, "Does this man sound familiar to you?"
Merle shook his head, brow creased with worry and confusion. "Other'an the stink? All my friends fuckin' stink. But that don't sound like anybody I ever met."
"Tell the truth," Beth said sharply.
Merle turned on her and said, "I am! I wouldn't fuckin' lie about knowin' who my murderer is, ya dumb bitch!"
Morgan raised his hands as if to come between them and said, "It's okay, we'll figure out who it was. I don't think he's lying about this. If he had any inkling of who could've killed him, I'm more than sure he would've voiced his theories by now."
"Yeah, I would have," Merle agreed, shooting Beth a taunting glare.
She rolled her eyes and focused on Morgan once more while Daryl sat beside her, quietly taking in everything that was being discussed. He nodded here and there to show he was following along, though he was chewing on his lower lip nervously the whole time.
"There was another man who appeared that I couldn't identify," Morgan continued, giving Beth and Daryl an expectant look. "He wasn't at Merle's house, but I saw him in some of the visions that involved the two of you. He seemed to be helping somehow, though I couldn't see exactly what he was doing. He has brown hair too, but he's not as tall as the man with the limp. Based on his clothes and his hat, I'm guessin' he's some sorta law enforcement. Maybe a Sheriff…?"
It seemed to click for Beth and Daryl at the same time because they immediately turned to one another with equally surprised expressions and said, "Rick?"
Morgan raised his eyebrows and repeated, "Rick? You both already know this man?"
Beth quickly explained, "Yeah. Rick Grimes. He's a - a mutual friend. He's the Sheriff in our town, but my family's known him fer years. I babysit his daughter sometimes."
"And how d'you know this Rick guy?" Morgan asked Daryl.
The living Dixon shrugged and muttered, "Met 'im years ago when he firs' became Sheriff. Merle was always gettin' inta trouble an' I was always bailin' him out. Rick was always real cool about it. 'Least he was ta me. We ended up becomin' buddies but Merle hated him."
"Still fuckin' do," Merle chimed in. "That guy thinks he's hot shit an' he ain't nothin' more'an a cold pile a squirrel turds."
"And you've always had a problem with authority, so it doesn't surprise me one bit that you'd say that," Morgan quipped, barely offering Merle a brief glance over his shoulder as he scolded him. "You might wanna hold your tongue though, because I think this man will be instrumental in solving the mystery surrounding your death."
That shut him up immediately.
"But Rick's the one that said Merle killed himself," Daryl said, no longer batting an eye whenever Morgan spoke to the seemingly thin air behind him. "He was one a the first responders to the scene when I called it in. He saw everythin' I saw an' came to the same damn conclusion."
Morgan's brow furrowed and he blinked, taking in this new information and contemplating it. Then he muttered quietly, "That's right - you were the one to find Merle. The vision was brief but painful. I forgot about that." He licked his lips and asked Daryl firmly, "And nothing looked out of place to you? When you found your brother hanging from his bedroom ceiling?"
Beth looked over to see that Daryl's face had drained of color. He glanced away, down at the tabletop, and mumbled, "I… don't really remember." A pained expression flickered across his features, almost like he was ashamed.
Morgan hummed understandingly and nodded. "Shock will do that to you. I know it was a traumatizing moment, but anything you can remember - anything that may have seemed off - could help us figure out what Merle can't remember."
Daryl sighed and shook his head, still not looking up, mumbling to the table rather than Morgan. "I dunno. It all looked pretty much the same as it always did. I can't - all I can ever see when I think about it is how blue his face was. An' the weird angle his neck was in. His eyes were damn near bulgin' out his skull… Makes me fuckin' sick jus' thinking about it." He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head again, as though he were trying the shake the memory out of his head entirely. "'M sorry, but I wasn't lookin' at nothin' else. I couldn't."
Without hesitation, Beth reached out and placed a hand atop one of the clenched fists resting in Daryl's lap. She felt him relax just slightly at her touch, and she wrapped her palm around his knuckles and squeezed softly. She couldn't help but sympathize with him in this moment, to reach out and connect. She could remember how shocking and sickening it had felt to see her mom's lifeless body, so unfamiliar and grotesque compared to the beautiful and lively woman Beth had loved.
"I understand," Morgan said softly. "It's difficult. I know the police must've done an investigation, but they miss things all the time. And if Merle was a well-known nuisance, it's likely that they willingly overlooked the details. Small towns can be their own kind of Hell."
Daryl nodded and finally lifted his eyes to meet Morgan's. "Yeah, he was a nuisance alrigh'. But on top a that, he lived like a slob. Findin' anything in his house was pretty much impossible. Took me three full days ta clean the goddamn place out. Rick said it was an open-and-shut case - he told me there was no reason ta order a bigger investigation 'cause the scene spoke fer itself. So did the autopsy. 'Specially after they found all the drugs in his system." He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. Then he narrowed his eyes and added, "I don't think Rick woulda lied. He might not've liked Merle, but he wouldn't let a killer walk free. Ever."
"He wouldn't," Beth agreed. "Rick's a good man, he cares about people."
"I wasn't implying that he lied," Morgan assured them. Daryl relaxed. "His aura appeared bright, I've already seen that he's a good man. I can't imagine he would've wanted to make the situation any harder for you, Daryl. And I'm sure he trusted your opinion, and when you didn't see anything amiss about your brother's death, he didn't see any logical reason to drag it out. But…"
Beth could see Daryl perking up from the corner of her eye and she squeezed his hand again. This time, he unclenched his fist and loosely wrapped his fingers around hers, though she couldn't tell if it was subconscious or intentional.
"That doesn't mean there isn't something more ta be found," Morgan finished. "You said Merle lived like a slob - so how would we know if someone had shown up and ransacked the place, if they'd killed him? If they'd made it look like a suicide?"
"Shit man, I'm likin' you more an' more," Merle said happily. "I mean, as much as I can like some muddy swamp nig-"
"Don't say it," Morgan cut him off abruptly, whipping his head around to shoot Merle a fiery glare. "Don't you dare say it. Not in this house, not to me, and not to my son. I've let yer derogatory remarks slip by, but this is where I draw the line. You won't speak like that around here, Merle Dixon. Not if you want me to help yer sorry ass. You hear me?"
Beth froze and watched with wide eyes - and shock - as Merle snapped his mouth shut and frowned. But he did stay quiet. And as much as he clearly hated it, he begrudgingly nodded.
"I'ono what he's sayin', but I can guess. An' I'm sorry about him," Daryl muttered across the table. "He was always a small-minded asshole."
Morgan chuckled and shrugged, his anger disappearing just like that as he turned back to face Beth and Daryl. "Don't apologize for your brother. I've dealt with much worse and I'm well equipped to handle it. I'll say this for him: he knows he doesn't have many options and he's being a lot more cooperative than I expected. And I think he has at least a little compassion and remorse hiding somewhere deep inside that black soul of his. We can dig it out if we keep him on the right track."
"Stop talkin' about me like I'm not here," Merle grumbled angrily.
Beth resisted the urge to smile at this exchange, indescribably happy that she'd finally found someone who could put Merle in his place. She almost wanted to ask Morgan to come stay with her until she could get rid of the dead and obnoxious Dixon for good.
"We can try," Daryl said, shrugging. "But - ya know, he was cremated. So I'ono how we're s'posed ta go back an' look fer any sorta clues or whatever. If you really think he didn't kill himself. I already threw out mosta the shit that was in 'is house, an' then I sold the house three days ago."
"That does make it a little more difficult," Morgan mumbled, stroking the whiskers on his chin thoughtfully. "The house - he lived in your dad's old cabin, right? He moved in after Will died?"
"After he killed our dad? Yeah," Daryl corrected. Beth squeezed his fingers in hers and he squeezed back. "It was a shithole, I never wanted nothin' ta do with it. I cleaned it out fast as I could an' sold it to the first person that offered me cash."
"Interesting," Morgan nodded. He turned to Merle and asked, "Was there someone that might've been lookin' for you? Or looking for something you were hiding?"
Merle scoffed and said, "Wasn't hidin' nothin'... Not anything that anybody who was still alive could've known about."
"What does that mean?" Beth asked, narrowing her eyes at the dead man. "Why don't you stop bein' so withholding and just tell us everything you know so we can figure this out?"
"'Cause it don't concern you, sweetheart," he shot back coldly. "And I ain't tellin' you nothin' that's gonna make yer stupid ass go haulin' Daryl into somethin' he can't get out of!"
Morgan's eyes had gone wide and he was looking back and forth between Beth and Merle. As Beth tried to comprehend the stupidity in Merle's statement without having another furious outburst, Morgan turned to Daryl.
"Do you have any idea if there's somethin' Merle might be hiding? Something that someone else might've wanted badly enough to kill him for?" He asked.
Daryl blinked, taken aback. He shook his head weakly and muttered, "Other'an whatever drugs he was sellin' or what he mighta gotten into after we stopped hangin' out? Nah, man. No idea."
Morgan sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Merle was grumbling angrily under his breath and Daryl's hand had gone stiff in Beth's once more.
"This is gonna be… challenging," Morgan mumbled, already sounding exhausted. "But we have to start somewhere. I'll drag every detail out before you leave here today. I won't send you into this until you're completely prepared. Until we know exactly what's at stake."
"Well what else could be at stake?" Daryl asked.
"Isn't a literal murderer walking free bad enough?" Beth agreed.
Morgan frowned and massaged his temple absent-mindedly. He narrowed his eyes and focused them intensely on Beth. "When I saw y'all at Lady Jadis's shop… there was something on the wall. It was blurry, I couldn't quite make it out. And it seemed to make Jadis uncomfortable. I didn't catch everything she said, but she mentioned somethin' about a demon - "
Daryl interjected, "Jadis - the psychic?"
Beth nodded in confirmation.
He shook his head and asked, "How'd you even get Merle ta go in there? He fuckin' hates psychics, wouldn't go within twenty feet of 'em."
Morgan blinked and furrowed his brow with confusion. "Why's that?"
Daryl shrugged and casually explained, "He dated some psychic chick a while back, not long after he got outta the military. Fell in love with 'er an' she robbed him blind. Took everythin' he had an' disappeared in the middle of the night. He never found her an' he never fuckin' got over it neither. He was still bitchin' about how all psychics should be shot or some shit the last time I got drunk with 'im."
"Jesus Christ, jus' go blabbin' my whole goddamn life story, why don'tcha," Merle said. "Wasn't even like that. I didn't love that cunt - she was just a good lay. Ain't got nothin' ta do with the fact that them phony-ass psychics are all a buncha bottom-dwelling fuckin' bloodsuckers."
Beth recalled how uneasy Merle had been inside Lady Jadis's place of business, and how uneasy he'd been even after they'd driven away. She smirked and said, "Sounds like Merle got his heart broken an' never quite got over it."
"Fuck off," Merle snapped.
Daryl chuckled. "Definitely. He never dated anybody again after that chick."
"Goddammit, Daryl! Shut yer mouth already!" Merle cried out.
Morgan had a small half-smile on his face as he said, "I love when things come together like this. You never really know someone until you've spoken with their siblings." He turned his focus back to Beth and his smile faded as he added, "But this picture he pointed out on Jadis's wall - can you tell me what it looked like? Why it was mentioned at all?"
Beth quickly nodded as the memory popped into her head and explained, "Yeah - the poster. It was a painting of a guy that Merle asked about, like he recognized it. A black guy in a hat with a beard, an' there was a weird symbol in the corner. Jadis said it was some infamous demon or somethin'. But what's that gotta do with…?"
Her voice trailed off as it clicked in her head. Morgan watched her expectantly, waiting for her to put the pieces together.
Dread turned her blood to ice within her veins. She could no longer feel Daryl's hand in her own.
When Morgan saw the realization slowly crossing her face, he said, "And that is exactly what I'm worried could be at stake here."
Merle remained silent behind him. And he suddenly looked very pale - even for a dead guy.
If she'd thought he looked scared before, that was nothing compared to the terror that was shadowing his features now.
to be continued...
