Cold Open From the Backseat of a Sheriff's Car

When Daryl and Beth parked outside of the Sheriff's Department, Rick was nowhere to be seen. Daryl silenced the bike and put down the kickstand, and while Beth took off her helmet and climbed off, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Rick.

"Are we early?" She asked, setting the helmet atop her empty seat and running a hand through her hair.

He was still staring down at the phone in his hand, both feet planted on either side of the motorcycle. "Nah. Few minutes late. But he's pro'lly still caught up with paperwork or somethin'. I just texted him."

Beth glanced around at the quiet parking lot, expecting Merle to appear any second. She kept looking over her shoulder, wondering if he was trying to take her by surprise again.

"You gonna tell me how that dream made sense?"

Daryl's deep voice shook her from her observations. She looked at him quizzically for a second before she recalled what he was referring to.

Oh yeah. His dream. Florence Newton's predictions.

It did make sense, but how could she explain it so it made sense to him? Sure, it had been a pretty wild ride so far, and he'd learned to accept plenty of things that he'd normally brush off as nonsense. But her sister talking to a 400-year-old Witch who foretold their futures might be a bit of a stretch. Even for this situation.

"Um," Beth started, her mouth quirking to the side as she contemplated how to word it. "Well, it's just—interpretation, I guess. You remember how I told you that Maggie met a Witch, too?"

A crease formed in Daryl's brow and he stared back at her from where he still sat on the bike. "Yeah, what's the deal with that anyhow? I mean, I never asked, but when you was givin' Rick that rundown on everything, ya mentioned somethin' about Maggie meetin' an immortal Witch…? From Ireland? And she—predicted the future or sum'n? What's that all about?"

"That's pretty much it," Beth said with a half-shrug. "When she was like, eleven years old, she talked to a lady who called herself the Witch of Youghal. Her name is actually Florence Newton. She's a real lady who lived in Ireland in the 1600s and got persecuted in the Witch Trials—there's a Wikipedia article about her an' everything. She knew one of our ancestors who had a Gift. And she told Maggie a bunch of vague stuff about the future that didn't make any sense. Till now. I think she… well, me and Maggie both think that Florence predicted Merle coming to me for help. How you an' I would meet. How y'all would need my Gift."

Daryl didn't appear nearly as perplexed as she'd expected. Then again, she figured, he had to be getting used to this kind of stuff by now. Maybe an immortal Witch from Ireland wasn't the hardest part to swallow, after all.

He hmphed thoughtfully, taking a moment to mull over her words in silence. Then he nodded and asked, "So, my dream… did it match up with what that Witch said? Or what?"

"Pretty much," Beth replied softly.

She didn't want to go into detail right now. Like the fact that Florence predicted how Maggie would meet Glenn and it came true. Or the fact that everything was matching up in a way that led Beth to believe she really was supposed to be some kind of "light" in Daryl's life.

She didn't want him to start thinking they were supposed to be soulmates or something. Or that she was thinking they were supposed to be soulmates. That would just be silly. And completely off-topic and quite frankly, the absolute least of their worries.

But mostly… she didn't want to say anything that might make him shut down, or grow self-conscious and push her away. With every new revelation they discovered, every slightly traumatic moment they shared together, she could see his wall coming down. Brick by brick, inch by inch. He was becoming just a little less standoffish each day. She was pretty sure he was starting to legitimately trust her. So she didn't want to risk it and make him think she was after some kind of fairytale ending. Or that she was after anything for herself.

She just wanted to help Merle cross over and save Daryl's soul from eternity in Hell. And maybe understand her Gift and learn to control it better. That was all. Nothing more.

Hell, they didn't even have to be friends after this if he didn't want to be. Which she would completely understand if he didn't.

Though she was kind of hoping he would want to be friends. He was a nice guy. A good guy. Despite their vast differences, they were finding new things in common with one another every day. He listened to her. She felt safe whenever she was around him. And Lord knew she hadn't made a new friend in way too damn long.

"Y'gonna tell me what she predicted?" Daryl asked, looking at her expectantly.

Beth hesitated. "Well—like I said, it's mostly interpretation. So…"

Just then, his eyes flicked up and away from hers, gazing over her shoulder. She turned around to see Rick emerging from the building, waving as soon as he spotted them.

She said a silent prayer of thanks that she'd been rescued from trying to repeat Florence Newton's predictions and waved back at Sheriff Grimes. He stopped next to the police cruiser that was parked in front of the building and gestured for them to walk over.

"C'mon, y'all! Let's hit the road!" He hollered out across the parking lot.

Daryl hopped off his bike and pocketed his keys. Then he walked side-by-side with Beth to the beige-colored car that read King County Sheriff on the side.

Once they were approaching the rear of the vehicle, Rick opened the driver's side door and smiled at them. Beth thought he almost looked excited. Which he probably was. She reckoned this might be the most interesting thing to happen to him all week.

Daryl appeared a bit confused. "We takin' this to Atlanta?"

"Why not?" Rick said, slapping the hood and grinning. "Gets good mileage, an' these lights'll come in handy if we get stuck in traffic. I am technically on duty."

Daryl smirked, grunting in amusement. "Alrigh'. 'F you say so." He glanced at Beth and said, "But I ain't sittin' in the back this time."

Beth laughed and opened the rear passenger side door. "That's fine, I'll take it. I've never been in the back of a police car before. This'll be fun!"

Daryl rolled his eyes, still smirking, and opened up the front passenger door to climb in.

All three doors slammed shut, seatbelts clicking while Rick started up the engine. Then Merle's voice filled her ears.

"'S a lot more fun when yer in cuffs. You should try it sometime, blondie. Makes fer a good challenge!" He cackled loudly.

She whipped her head to the side and found him sitting on the other side of the backseat, grinning and getting comfortable.

"Oh, great," she muttered.

She hadn't meant to be loud enough to get Rick and Daryl's attention, but they heard her and turned around to look at her from the front seat.

"What is it?" Rick asked. "If it's the bloodstain, don't worry—that's been there fer years, it won't come out. But if it's more dried vomit, I can't say—"

"Ew!" Beth interrupted.

Merle guffawed.

"No, it's—Merle is here." She looked pointedly at Daryl and realization crossed his face.

He frowned before turning back around to stare out the windshield. "Good. Maybe he can pitch in an' fuckin' help fer once."

Merle scoffed. "Oh, I planned on it, baby brother."

Rick was looking back, eyes darting from Beth to the empty seat beside her. "He's here? Right now? Like, he's comin' with us?"

Beth nodded bashfully.

Then Rick shrugged and turned back around to grip the steering wheel and shift into Reverse. "Alright then. But hopefully we won't need his help."

"Yeah," Daryl grunted. "Hopefully."

Merle jabbed a thumb in Rick's direction and muttered, "He ain't even gonna say hi when he knows I'm here? Rude asshole. Just 'cause I'm dead don't mean I'm nonexistent."

Don't I know it, Beth thought.


Atlanta was less than an hour's drive from the Sheriff's Department, but Rick drove a little faster than the speed limit once they were on the highway, and Beth knew they'd be getting there in about forty-five minutes.

In the center of the front seat, taking up the entire middle area between the driver's seat and the passenger's seat, as well as most of the dashboard, was a laptop, a radio scanner, more buttons than Beth could count, a speed scanner, a civilian radio, and a police scanner. A dispatcher's voice came in over the crackle of static every few seconds. Rick turned it down until it was barely audible, though the sound of static filled the car intermittently. She also spotted a first aid kit, a small array of cameras and recording devices, and a defibrillator. The sheriff's car seemed to be stocked with everything Rick might possibly need out on the road. There was a thick plate of glass that separated the front seat from the backseat, but he'd left the center panel slid open.

Daryl sat in the passenger seat and gazed out the window, silent and thoughtful, much like he'd been during the drive to Florida and back. Merle sucked his teeth loudly from where he sat an arm's reach away from Beth, his legs stretched out. He couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to gaze out the window or glare a hole through the back of Rick's head. Either way, Beth could sense his discomfort. She wasn't sure if it was from being in the backseat of a police vehicle again, or if he was nervous as to what they might (or might not) find out from the car rental place.

She was nervous, too. What if they simply couldn't get the answer they were so desperately hoping for? Would they have to rely on whatever surfaced from looking into the insurance company and hope it ended up being enough to lead them to The Governor's true identity? How could her Gift help them here?

"So how was the memorial today, Beth?" Rick asked, glancing back at her over his shoulder with a soft smile.

She was grateful to talk about something normal for once. "Oh, it was nice," she replied. "I think almost everybody was able to make it out this year. Even Jimmy came."

"How's he doin'? Is he still in college?" The sheriff perked up at the sound of a familiar name. "I don't think I've talked to his mama since Christmas."

Beth smiled. "No, he graduated in June. I think he's just stayin' with his mom till he finds a job in the city or somethin'."

"Huh, graduated already?" Rick mused. "Damn, time sure flies."

Beth hummed in agreement.

She could certainly relate to that sentiment. Here she was, in pretty much the exact same place she'd been when she and Jimmy had graduated high school. Meanwhile, he'd already moved away for a few years, gotten a college degree, and met a new girl. And time just kept doing what time does.

Well, she wasn't in the exact same place. But it certainly didn't look like her situation would be changing anytime soon. It wasn't like she could make a career out of seeing dead people. Nor did she think she'd be any better off once she'd gotten rid of Merle and saved Daryl's soul from Hell. In fact, she reckoned she'd most likely go right back to life as usual once this was all over.

She could see Merle squirming around in his seat from the corner of her eye and she looked over to see what he was doing. With a bored and slightly disgruntled expression on his face, he dug around in his pocket and pulled out his trusty lighter and pack of smokes. She rolled her eyes as he proceeded to put a cigarette between his lips and light it up.

"Can you roll these windows down, please?" She asked Rick.

He shot her a quizzical look over his shoulder and said, "They only roll halfway down. You gettin' hot back there? Want me to turn the air on?"

"No. Merle's smoking," she explained. "It's gonna reek in here pretty soon unless you roll a window down."

Rick looked back at her, clearly perplexed. "He's smoking?" Then he glanced over at Daryl with the same expression.

Daryl merely shrugged and muttered, "Don't ask me."

Merle scoffed and took a deep drag from his cigarette. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and remarked, "The hell else'm I supposed ta do? It's boring as shit in here. Can't y'all at least talk about somethin' interesting?"

Beth sighed and attempted to ignore him, speaking to Rick once more: "So what's the plan once we get to this place?"

"Plan?" Rick repeated, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. "Just business as usual, I suppose. Figured I'd talk to 'em, flash my badge, make up some kinda official-sounding reason to take a peek at their database. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Should we all go in?" Beth asked. "Or…"

"Nah," he said. "Might seem odd if I'm with a couple civilians."

Then Daryl piped up, looking over at Rick with doubt. "An' if they refuse to tell ya anything? Then what?"

"Yeah," Merle agreed, even though Beth was the only one who could hear him. "Then what? Can't be gettin' all cocky just yet, Officer Friendly."

Rick shrugged, frowning. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I'll think a somethin'. But I got a feelin' it won't come to that. Places like this are always eager to comply with law enforcement, 'specially if they think it might be some big, secret case that could bring 'em some publicity once it gets solved. Everybody wants to be a hero, ya know."

Merle clucked his tongue and shook his head as he exhaled another cloud of smoke. "Best hope yer right, Grimes. 'Cause that attitude ain't gonna get us far at all."

Beth shot him a glaring side-eye, resisting the urge to scold him aloud. He just laughed and waved her off.

Then Rick coughed and pressed a button on his door to roll down the driver's side window and the back window simultaneously. "Damn," he remarked. "You weren't kiddin', Beth—I can literally smell the cigarette smoke." He looked over at Daryl and back at Beth, double-checking that neither of them were the culprits.

She flashed him a crooked smile and a shrug that said, Told you.

"Wouldn't kid about that," Daryl grumbled.

Rick opened his mouth to say something else, but he was quickly interrupted by the sound of music filling the car. The civilian radio had suddenly turned on and it was blaring a punk rock station, startling all three of them.

"Robbin' people with a six-gun—I fought the law and the law won! I fought the law and the law won!"

Merle threw his head back, laughing while Rick reached over and fumbled to crank down the volume.

"What the hell was that?!" Rick exclaimed, looking to Beth and Daryl with wide eyes.

"Merle," Beth replied simply.

"He jus' turns radios on randomly like that?" Rick asked, completely baffled. "Well I'll be damned…"

Daryl simply grunted, and Beth nodded in affirmation. He glanced back at her over his shoulder and they exchanged a look of annoyance through the glass that separated them.

Merle huffed out an agitated sigh. "I'm tryin' ta be supportive!"

She rolled her eyes and muttered just loud enough for him to hear: "Try harder."


For the rest of the drive to Atlanta, Rick kept glancing at the rearview mirror, and Beth knew he was trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of Merle or his mysterious ghost cigarettes. The sheriff also asked questions pertaining to Merle's abilities. Beth didn't want to give the dead Dixon too much credit, especially when he was sitting right next to her and grinning so smugly while they talked about him. But she also didn't want to downplay what he could do, even as a ghost. The footage from the Sheriff's Department had given Rick a pretty good idea, though he still had endless questions. After a while, Beth had to admit that she didn't know quite as much as she probably should. Rick was satisfied all the same, and very intrigued.

When they entered the city, he turned on his GPS and followed its directions to the address of the car rental business. Merle was on his fifth or sixth cigarette and all the windows were rolled down by this point, though Daryl was taking advantage of the open air and having a smoke of his own. Beth sat silently in the backseat and gazed around at the buildings and sidewalks as they passed, trying to remember the last time she'd come to Atlanta.

Maybe six months ago? For a very brief visit with Maggie? She wasn't even sure. Everything before the last week was beginning to feel like a different life entirely.

"There it is," Rick announced.

They'd turned onto a street lined with various businesses, all of which looked like dentist's offices and private law practices. He pointed ahead, towards a building at the end of the street. A few seconds later, they were close enough that Beth could read the plain white-and-red sign posted above the entrance: Terminus Car Rental. A smaller sign right below read: Family Owned Since 1991. Something about that boasted fact didn't bode well in her mind.

This wasn't a corporate chain, so what if they didn't have to abide by the same rules when it came to answering suspicious questions from a member of law enforcement? Maybe she just needed to have more faith in Rick Grimes and his persuasion tactics. Like he'd said, this wasn't his first rodeo. And she believed it.

He parked about halfway down the block, leaving the King County Sheriff's car just out of sight from the big front window of Terminus Car Rental. Daryl tossed out the burnt-down butt of his cigarette as Rick silenced the engine and turned to look at the occupants of his car.

"This the place?" Merle asked, clearly unimpressed. "Family owned, huh? Shit. Bet they're a buncha stubborn Jesus freaks—" he shot Beth a taunting smirk "—jus' like you an' yer family, blondie." Then he barked out a laugh.

But she was ignoring him and focusing on Rick, who was talking to both her and Daryl at the same time.

"Alright, I'm gonna go in an' pull my usual routine," he explained. "'F anything comes up, I'll text one of y'all. Got yer phones on ya?"

Beth nodded, and Daryl glanced down and patted his jeans pocket before nodding as well. Rick gave them a smile of reassurance.

"Good. Shouldn't be too long," he said confidently. "These things usually aren't. Just wait here an' try not to let Merle drive ya crazy."

He chuckled at his little joke, but Beth and Daryl were exchanging a grimace. Then the sheriff was climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him, and they watched as he strode down the sidewalk and up to the front door of Terminus Car Rental. A second later, he disappeared inside.

Daryl let out a deep sigh.

"Yeah," Beth said from the backseat, agreeing with his unspoken expression. "Me, too."

He merely grunted back.

And surprisingly, she knew exactly what he meant.

Merle clucked his tongue and lit up a new cigarette. "Gettin' soft on me, girly."

She side-eyed him but didn't say anything. This was not the time to go taking his verbal bait. He was just bored and eager to start an argument with the only person who could hear him.

Please hurry, Rick, she thought. Find out The Governor's name so we can track that asshole down. So I can get this dead guy off my damn back already.


Five minutes passed. Still no sign of Rick. Then ten minutes. No texts from him either. Fifteen minutes had dragged on, and Beth had nothing to listen to but the sound of Daryl taking drags off a cigarette and Merle's scratchy voice. The dead Dixon was mostly muttering to himself, though he tried to taunt Beth here and there. When he got no reaction, he seemed to give up.

She kept running over the possibilities of the outcome in her head, asking herself what they would do if Rick was unable to get the answers they needed. Did he have another plan if the "usual routine" didn't work out? Or would he suggest that they move on to another lead? Because she really didn't want to give up that easily. Not when The Governor's name could very well be plain as day on someone's computer, just waiting to be found. Why take the long way around when there was a shortcut sitting right in front of them? Even if said shortcut had to be accessed by… less conventional means.

She was beginning to think she may need a back-up plan.

Then Daryl spoke, snapping Beth out of her thoughtful trance while she stared out the window and watched people passing by on the sidewalk.

"How ya likin' it back there?" He asked. "As fun as ya thought it'd be?"

She chuckled. "Not bad. Definitely a smooth ride."

He let out a snort of amusement. Then he casually changed the subject, "Ya see a lotta people at yer mom's memorial? Catch up with some friends an' all that?"

She smiled to herself and replied, "Yeah. It was a good turnout this year. 'Salways nice ta see everybody. They all have their own lives an' all that, so it's hard to keep up. But it usually turns out more like a reunion than a memorial."

"Tha's good," he mumbled. Their eyes briefly met in the rearview mirror before he was looking back down at his lap and the cigarette pinched between his fingers. "Yer dad looked pretty happy—well, not happy, but—"

She cut him off with a soft laugh and reassured him, "No, yer right, he was happy. Might seem weird to be happy at a memorial for his late wife, but he's earned it."

Merle scoffed, audibly disinterested and bored by Beth and Daryl's conversation. She ignored him, finding it easier to tune him out when she had the option of focusing on his brother.

"Nah, makes sense," Daryl said. "You uh, catch up with some people? Rick asked 'bout that Jimmy guy—'s he like a cousin ya don't see much or whatever?"

Merle barked out a laugh, but for some reason, he was keeping his comments to himself.

Beth quickly answered, "No, he's my ex-boyfriend. Rick's known him 'bout as long as he's known me. We dated back in high school, but that's… long over. We're still friends, our families have known each other since we were kids."

Daryl grunted but didn't say anything else. Merle was shaking his head and chuckling, low and almost menacing.

A couple more minutes passed in silence. And then Rick finally emerged from behind the front door of Terminus Car Rental.

Beth's heart leapt and she leaned forward, watching the sheriff fast-walk down the sidewalk and back to the car. But as he got closer, she realized he wasn't smiling. In fact, he was frowning. Heavily. His brow was creased and his blue eyes were narrowed, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He looked downright pissed.

"Shit," Merle muttered, taking the word right out of Beth's mouth.

Rick opened the driver's side door and plopped down into the seat, slamming the door shut and letting out a loud sigh of frustration. He turned and looked at Beth and Daryl with a frown.

"Didn't go so well, huh?" Daryl guessed.

"Not at all," Rick admitted. "Family owned—more like family dominated. Bunch'a stubborn assholes. Made me wait fifteen minutes just fer mom an' pop ta shut me down personally."

"How'd they shut you down?" Beth asked.

"Yeah," Daryl reiterated. "Wasn't the cop thing s'posed ta be foolproof?"

Merle laughed and snidely remarked, "Can't be foolproof when the fool's the one y'all are relyin' on."

"Well," Rick said, his voice heavy with defeat. "They basically told me to come back with a warrant. Which y'all know ain't gonna happen. No way I can get a warrant fer this without openin' up a whole new case."

"So…?" Daryl asked, staring at the sheriff expectantly. "What now?"

Rick's frown deepened and he gave a half-shrug. "We follow the next lead. Maybe—"

"No," Beth interjected, leaning forward and gripping the back of the front seat with both hands. "We can't just give up on this lead 'cause they won't cooperate. The Governor's real name is right at our fingertips, all we need is one look at their stupid database!"

Rick blinked, a bit taken aback, and looked at her with confusion. "Beth, if they aren't willing to comply, then I have no legal power to force them. It'd just backfire and land me in hot water fer goin' so far outta my jurisdiction. I know how people like this operate, an' they're the type who wouldn't hesitate to file a lawsuit. They prob'ly got a lawyer on retainer just waitin' for shit like this."

"Yeah?" Beth raised her eyebrows, a rush of adrenaline flowing through her and giving her an odd boost of confidence. "So are they also the type who'd be freaked the hell out by a ghost?"

The corner of Rick's mouth twitched and he seemed to be studying her, trying to figure out what she was alluding to. Then he smirked.

"What d'you got in mind?"

A mischievous smile curled her lips upwards. She'd been thinking about this. And she'd tried to tell herself it was unnecessary, that she just didn't have enough faith in Rick. But now she knew that it was a good thing she'd thought about it. Her paranoia and doubt would pay off, after all.

And maybe Merle's presence would pay off, too. In its own way.

"I think I have a plan," she said. "But you'll have to trust me."

Daryl was the first to respond, and he almost sounded eager.

"What's the plan, Greene?"

to be continued…