Chapter 10

Daryl's POV

"Daryl. Daryl!" Rick's voice is really irritating as I slam the screen door on my way out of the house.

His face is even more infuriating as he runs in front of me to block my path. "Just – just wait a second."

"Out of my way," I growl but the man doesn't move. He doesn't even flinch. I move to step around him before the urge to punch him takes over. Rick grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him. "Get off me."

Rick tightens his grip before letting me go, "I know what you are going to do, hell I want to do it just as much right now, but I am asking you not to."

"Why not?" I spit out.

"Let me take care of it. It is my mistake to fix. Just give me some time."

The words 'Fuck You' are on the tip of my tongue but I bite it back instead of letting it loose.

"The end of the day." I point my finger in Rick's face "You have till the end of the fucking day then I take care of him myself and if he so much as looks at the girl then I'll kill him dead right then. Got it?"

Rick seems to understand what I am saying and nods, "That's all I am asking for. Just one day."

It's a good thing Shane isn't anywhere near me right now because despite what I told Rick I would still put a bolt in his head if I saw him.

"That son of a bitch isn't going to be walking around I can tell you that much. He is a coward and if he gets wind that we know he'll do more than try to escape unnoticed."

"No, you're right. He's not," Rick runs his hand through his hair, "You good?"

My eyes have moved back to the front door that I just left and I can see Hershel leading the girl back up the stairs.

Am I good? Far from it in fact. I want to gut the bastard but I nod anyway.

The bastard is working on a lookout stand when Rick finds him.

I've been 'asked' to stay behind so that Shane's suspicions aren't raised. Which I took to mean as, sit in front of Hershel's window with a rifle pointed at the sons a bitch's head just in case he caught wind that Rick knew.

In all honesty I was looking for any sign that would warrant me pulling the trigger.

Unfortunately, the bastard hasn't given me a reason to just yet.

I don't know what Rick is playing at. I could end it right now and I wouldn't lose a wink of sleep at tonight or any other night.

Unlike the Randall situation –Shane has to die.

There's no debate.

No second chances.

He is too dangerous and way too fucking eager to kill anyone of us. I'm also sure it has to do with that side rendezvous Rick's wife and him had back at the quarry.

Too much drama. That's why I stayed the hell away from people. I can deal with the 'he said, she said' bullshit but like everything else in this world now it's taken an extreme turn.

Now we apparently plan elaborate ways to kill an innocent girl just to get rid of your once best friend so you have free reign to sleep with his wife.

Rick's POV

"Got a second?" I call up as I shield my eyes from the setting sun but it does nothing to show me Shane's face.

"Yeah one minute?" the sound of wood being thrown down is followed by Shane's footsteps hitting the metal bars of the windmill.

It doesn't take long for him to ask the question, "What did the girl say? She remember anything?"

I don't know why, but I want to look at his face. I want to see if my friend is still in there, the man that I would put my life on the line for knowing that he would have done the same but when I look at the person standing before me I don't see that man.

I'm looking at a completely different man.

My eyes dart from his cocky grin to the unlatched gun holster on his hip.

"No." I answer "No. She didn't. Poor girl is too shaken up, barely talked to me at all."

Shane stops wiping his hands on the discolored rag and looks up at me, testing to see if I am telling the truth.

"That's a shame. What's our next move?"

"You know I can't help thinkin we missed something. How about you walk with me down to the shed and see if we can figure this out."

"Nah. I really need to get this finish—"

"Wasn't a question Shane."

I know he spots my hand on my sidearm when he throws the rag down and smiles.

Daryl's POV

Where the hell are they going? Without thinking I get up from my spot on the floor and take the stairs two at a time. With two windows, one facing the front and the other facing the side of the house, the last room at the end of the hall has the best vantage point but it is also being occupied by the last person I want to see right now.

I curse myself as I give a quick knock on the closed door.

Surprisingly she answers with a quick and strong, "Come in".

I avoid looking at the bed, where I know she is, and make my way to the first window.

"Daryl?"

"Hm" I grunt as both a response to the girl and a response to seeing Rick push Shane into the same shed Randall was being kept in.

"What's going on? Did the Randall's people find us?"

The rising panic in the girl's voice is what pulls my eyes away from the scope of the rifle and finally look at her.

"No. I'm just makin sure everything's made right." The bags under her eyes have somehow darkened since I saw her just twenty minutes before and I'm sure her hands never stopped shaking since they continue to do so now. "Try to get some sleep."

I turn back to the rifle waiting for something to happen.

"Is he still out there? Are you going to stay here?"

"For now. Want me to leave?" I ask without looking at the girl. If she wants me to I will. The roof would be the second-best option.

"No!—I mean please don't."

"Alright."

Exhaustion must have taken over because it isn't ten minutes before the girl's breathing evens out and I know that she is sleeping.

My eyes stay trained on the shed. Waiting to see which one of them comes out. If I see anyone other than Rick's face stepping out of there I'm pulling the trigger.

Rick's POV

As soon as the hollow sound of the wooden door slams Shane turns around to look at me.

My gun is drawn and the sinister look on his face reminds me of a murderer we caught back in '99. The guy slaughtered his whole family.

Wife, two kids, and his parents.

When the prosecutor asked him why he did it his one-word response was, 'because'.

I thought I was looking into the face of pure evil that day and I had hoped to never be faced with it again but luck isn't on my side as of late. Since I am once again looking at it standing no more than two feet in front of me.

"This is where you plan on doing it?"

"Good a place as any. It was good enough for Randall." I answer "Why'd you do it Shane?"

"It had to be done?"

"I don't understand"

"You wouldn't Rick. It had to be done and I figured this way was the cleanest. The Randall problem was solved and-"

"You would have been proven right. You were willing to sacrifice an innocent girl just to take me down a peg?"

"It's more than that Rick. I would kill a hundred of those girls if it means keeping Laurie and Carl safe."

"They are NOT your problem."

"They are! Since that day I left you in the hospital man, they became mine."

Realization dawns on me. The way he just said that my wife and child were his.

"You and my wife? MY –MY wife?" I raise the gun so it is even with Shane's chest.

"Don't seem so shocked Rick. You and Laurie were having problems before all of this, is it really a surprise?"

"The baby?"

"Your guess is as good as mine really."

The confession has my thumb pulling back the hammer on the gun.

Shane laughs and I can only guess it's because he knows he is going to die or he sees my anger as a weakness.

"You gonna kill an unarmed man? That ain't you Rick."

Shane lunge toward me and the moment his body collides with mine the gun goes off. A deafening sound in the small shack.

Blood from Shane's mouth drips on my face and I push his weight off of me. From the light of the dying sun alone I can see the blood spreading out from his stomach and I know that I just killed my best friend.

"You made me do this Shane. This is your fault." I shout into the face of a dying man. "This was you. You. Not me. NOT ME!"

The gurgling of blood as he tries to speak has me instinctively add pressure to his stomach even though I know there is no way to save him.

Not now.

Daryl's POV

"What was that?" Comes from everywhere in the house. It seems that everyone heard the gunshot but only I saw the quick flash of light coming from between the boards of the shed. No one has made an appearance yet so I haven't moved.

I need to know that Shane is dead.

That I can tell the girl he isn't going to be a problem anymore.

She is sitting up in the bed now but hasn't asked me any questions despite the growing panic going on outside the door. It seems that both Shane and Rick's disappearance are no longer unnoticed.

"Come on God damnit." My eye is still attached to the scope but with the sun almost completely below the skyline. I have maybe three minutes left of any kind of visual.

Just when I am ready to stand up and head down to the shed myself I see movement. The door of the building opens and I spot the familiar jacket of Rick. A few more seconds and the door shuts behind him.

"Good riddance." I mumble, forgetting that I have an audience sitting behind me. Rick is slumped over like he is trying to get his breath. The guy just shot his life long friend so I don't blame him for taking a second to compose himself but I feel absolutely zero remorse for that son of a bitch getting what he deserved.

As I am watching, I notice movement from the shed door again. It's so small that I think it might just be the wind moving it but I continue to watch as a body stumble's out. I can just make out Shane's face but it seems off but then again light is almost nonexistent at this point.

Lifting my eye from the scope I see Rick is already headed back toward the house and unaware that his good buddy is following him.

"Fuck it." I think as I reposition and fire the rifle once. Shane's head going backwards on impact and his body following after.

Rick ducks and looks behind him. That's when he notices Shane's body.

The bedroom door bursts open and the girl huddles into the corner of the bed. Her blanket pulled to her chin.

"What is going on? Mel are you alright?" Hershel is the first one through the door and somehow manages to keep the others back.

"Shane's dead." I say as I walk into the hallway, having to push people out of the way. I'm sure to say it loud enough that the girl hears what I am saying. I also know that my proclamation will force the others to follow me downstairs and leave her alone.

Just like I thought would happen, shocked questions and 'what do you mean dead?' followed me down the stairway until everyone was spilled out onto the front porch.

"It means that Shane is dead. Bullet to the head."

- "Was he bit?"

- "What happened?"

- "How do you know?"

- "How?"

These people were giving me a headache. Rick was the one who should be answering these questions. I could care less about spinning Shane's story but I don't know if Rick wants to play it a different way so I'll just keep my mouth shut until he manages to fill everyone in.

He should be back by now. Luckily the moon is giving off a good amount of light now and I can see movement in the field.

"Shut up." I snap at the group. Rick wasn't that far out and whatever is moving is more than one thing "Kill the lights. Get inside." Realization dawns on me when I see a herd of walkers come over the hill "Now!"

For once people listened to me and started to move. At least panic wasn't setting in yet.

"What should we do? Head down to the basement and wait for it to pass like on the highway?" Glen asks and I have to give him props on his steady voice.

"Not unless there is some tunnel I don't know about. A herd that size will tear this house apart. We gotta get out of here."

"What about Rick?"

"He's a smart man." The sounds of the dead start to fill the air. "He will figure it out but we can't do nothin if we're dead."

Mel's POV

Shane is dead.

Daryl killed him.

I feel nothing. Not even slightly relieved.

It's not until Beth rushes into my room that I even move from my spot.

"We gotta go Mel. Daddy says there is a herd headed this way."

Beth is in a panic and picking up things and shoving them into a backpack. Things like hairbrushes and books. Things that aren't needed. It reminds me of my sister when daddy told us we needed to pack up and leave.

On instinct I jump up and grab the bag Beth is holding and I take her shaking hands into my own forcing her to look at me.

"Go downstairs and get as much food as you can," I empty the backpack on the floor between us not bothering to look at the contents "Then you get in the truck and you wait there. If the dead get too close you start up that car and you drive. Don't wait for anyone do you understand me? You drive to the highway and head toward the old gas station off 33. You can wait there if we are separated. Let everyone know where to go." I wait for Beth to nod her understanding before I push her toward the door. "Remember. Just grab food then get in the truck."

When Beth disappears through the door I grab the only thing I own and the one borrowed thing I have in my possession. I take a glimpse out of the window and I can see the mass of dead bodies stumbling their way toward the house. I know that they have spotted signs of life here and have no intention of stopping their pursuit of it.

My hands start to shake as I attach Daddy's knife to my hip and pull Daryl's vest on, taking a deep breath as it settles on my back. I literally run into Daryl just outside my door. My face hitting his chest but he grabs my arm to steady me before I can stumble backward.

"Come on." His grip tightens slightly as he pulls me down the steps and toward the front door. A quiet chaos is happening all around us and Daryl doesn't seem the least bit bothered at what is happening. I make a mental note that this is what I need to strive for, his mind is set on whatever task he has given himself.

His current mission seems to be getting the both of us out of the house.

When we are standing outside I can see the herd is still coming this way just like I knew they would. Daryl's attention never falters but I know he sees that the bodies are starting to spread out which is only going to make them more dangerous if we are still on the farm when they get here.

His hand leaves my arm and I didn't realize how much I was relying on him to direct me. Daryl wordlessly hands me his bag and I throw it on my back as I watch him throw his leg over his motorcycle and lift the kickstand up with the heel of his boot.

I jump when he starts it up, the rumble filling the air with a menacing sound. Predatory in a way that rivals the sound of the walkers.

"Get on" Daryl jerks his head and I realize he wants me to get on the bike behind him. I have the stupid notion to argue with him. I have never ridden on a motorcycle and despite the trashy romance novels I have read I never really intended to as long as I lived. Then I remember the flesh hungry dead coming our way and suddenly I'm not afraid of wreaking. Besides, Daryl looks like he knows what he is doing behind the handles.

I straddle the seat, still trying to give Daryl enough room, it feels different then riding a horse and the rumble of the engine sends vibrations throughout my body. Daryl pulls my knees closer to the front of the bike and I follow his lead. He seems satisfied when my chest is flush with his back.

"Rick's out there," he nods toward the shed while checking the gun in his hand "Can you handle this?" He is having to shout over the sound of his bike but I still didn't understand what he was asking. Not until he hands me the gun.

The chaos has spilled outside. Everyone is running around now. Lori picks Carl up and puts him in the backseat of a car. Hershel is telling Patricia to grab any medical supplies she can find. It's not until I see Beth get into the truck with T-Dog that I take a deep breath.

"Y-Yeah." I don't know how he heard my answer but as soon as the words left my mouth the bike lurches forward and I'm forced to wrap my left arm around Daryl's waist.

Even though we are headed straight toward the group of walkers, the nerves and excitement still haven't made an appearance. I see a cluster of walkers clawing at the shed we are headed for before I see the waving arms of Rick standing on the roof. The building isn't going to last long, more and more walkers are joining and I can hear the groan of the wood as it starts to give way.

The dead on the outermost ring tun their attention to us as they spot new prey. My grip tightens as Daryl stops the bike and starts to fire his gun into the crowd. I follow suit, surprised that I am able to hit some of my targets but then again it would be more surprising to miss since I have so many targets clustered together.

We both fire shot after shot which gets the attention of all the walkers.

Rick is rapidly forgotten as they make their way toward Daryl's motorcycle. I keep my eye on the man who jumps off the shed. As soon as Rick's feet hit the ground and he recovers he starts running. I tap Daryl's shoulder to let him know that their leader is clear of the immediate danger.

The only warning I receive before Daryl moves the bike forward again is a quick squeeze on the wrist I have wrapped around his front. He doesn't head back to the farm or the main road. Daryl drives further into the fields, the terrain starting to finally jostle my nerves to the surface.

He follows the line of barbed wire fencing, reviving his engine several times to make sure all attention is on us. Giving the people back at the farm more time to evacuate.

It seems to be working.

Quicker than I thought possible the walkers are pushing down the fence. Their decaying hands reaching out for us but Daryl Keeps us out of reach. Moving the bike forward until he stops under the oak tree.

I hear gunshots coming from behind us, I turn to see that a large group of the walkers continued to make their way to the farm and are starting to surround the property.

They are all over the place and unless Rick has an unlimited supply of ammo, we are grossly outnumbered and will run out before we even make a dent. It's almost impossible to believe how quickly they descended on the farm but I know first hand how time seems to be altered in situations like these.

A high-pitched scream pierces its way through the rumble and growling surrounding me. My eyes are still watching the farm but I can't make out faces. I just see people running amongst the dead and a small herd of walkers falling to the ground as they tear into fresh meat. It isn't long before the screaming stops.

The truck I saw Beth get into is nothing but two red tail lights kicking up dust as it heads to the main road. Two more cars follow after but I still hear the sound of gunfire.

All of my attention has been on watching the scene unfold before me that I hadn't remembered where I was. A hand finds its way into my hair and I scream while I claw at the monster trying to pull me from Daryl's bike.

POP!

The arm goes limp but the fingers are still tangled in my hair and the dead weight is making me fall off.

Walkers start to close in on us.

"Come on. Ain't got all day." Daryl yells at me before lending is help to disentangle the unwanted hand from my hair.

The hand falls to the ground and I scarcely have time to readjust myself and hold on before the bike rolls forward, peeling away from the farmhouse.