Chpt 13: Not This Time

The woods slope uphill and start to thin. Daryl figures they must be getting close to a town. They step through a wall of honeysuckle that Beth can't leave without tasting. She shows Daryl how strip the stem from the flower to get to the nectar. Plucks one and holds it up for him to taste. She giggles when he pops the whole thing in his mouth and chews it down. "Don't eat it, Daryl! You're supposed to suck the nectar off the stem."

"That right?" he says, but the way the words scrape across his throat, she gets the feeling they aren't talking about honeysuckle anymore. Flashes of their night in the alcove streak across Beth's memory. She enjoys the flutter she gets in her belly every time she thinks about it.

Beth plucks a handful of honeysuckle blooms and they move through the bushes together. On the other side, they find themselves in a graveyard with weathered and sparsely placed headstones. They slow their pace and peruse the names and dates on the stones. Most of the residents have been gone for sixty years or more. One of the smaller, older stones reads 1860-1922. Beloved Husband, Father, and, Grandfather. Beth pauses in front of this one and cocks her head thoughtfully. Daryl gives her a minute to think about her dad and to gather her emotions before he tosses his arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Let's check out the house."

They climb the stairs to the blue and white Victorian home. The wrap around porch reminds Beth of the farm. To Daryl, the porch and all the windows make the house look like a nightmare to defend. The house itself is clean and well kept. Makes Daryl nervous. Beth walks past him and starts up the stairs, but he snags the back of her shirt and slows her down. "Easy… Somethin' don't feel right."

It's enough for Beth. She trusts Daryl's instincts as much as she trusts anything left in this world. They climb the porch steps together, and Beth leans against the wall next to the front door. Daryl peaks in the window. Tries to get a lay out of the first floor before they go kicking in the door. The house is spotless like whoever lives there is immune to what is going on in the world. There is no movement from inside. No shadows. No sign of life. He turns the knob and the door creeks open. Crossbow at the ready, he takes a silent step across the threshold. He doesn't even make a racket to see if any walkers appear. Damn place smells like lemons. No walker stench. No growls. No dust or dirt.

"It's beautiful in here, " he hears Beth say. She scoots past him and moves off to the left through a wide and open, trimmed archway. She's standing in the middle of what must be the living room spinning in a slow, appreciative circle. The room is full of detailed trim. The interior walls are lined with shelves stuffed with books. The exterior walls are curved, painted blue to match the outside, and trimmed half way up with shiny white beadboard. Daryl makes his way over. The ceiling is open all the way to the roof. Domed at the top. Must be eighteen or twenty feet up. Decorative rope trim circles the perimeter of the dome. "Don't you think it's beautiful," Beth asks, and Daryl remembers his talk with God from a last week. "Some place clean and pretty…"

"Come on," he beckons. This house gives him the creeps. He wants to scavenge what they can and hit the road. The sooner the better.

Beth follows him into the kitchen. In the cabinets they find four large jars of peanut butter, 3 jars of grape jelly, 2 boxes of saltines, a 2-liter of Big-Spot Dr. Thunder, 6 bottles of water, and a bag of pork rinds. "Damn," Daryl says under his breath and pops the lid off one of the grape jellies.

"What is this place," Beth wonders out loud.

"I don't know for sure, but I think we need to take what we can and get. I got a bad feelin', Beth." He scoops two fingers full of grape jelly and pops it in his mouth.

"Ewww," Beth says and wrinkles her nose.

"What?"

She giggles and elbows his arm. "Let's look upstairs."

Daryl pulls the jars off the shelf and stuffs them in his pack. Beth watches him until he gets to the last jar of peanut butter. She taps his forearm and looks at him thoughtfully. "Maybe we should leave some for whoever lives here."

Daryl studies her for a second. Decides there is no use in arguing. Teases her a little, "you wanna' leave a thank you note too?"

Beth rolls her eyes and says, "that's a mighty fine idea, Mr. Dixon." Tells him she's proud of his manners. Appreciates the fact that her man is a real gentleman.

It's his turn to roll his eyes. He caps it off with another big scoop of jelly from the open jar. "Want me to leave this jar of jelly, too?"

"I think you can keep that one," she says and pulls an unopened jar from his backpack to set next to the peanut butter in the cupboard. She pushes him toward the kitchen door knowing full well she couldn't actually budge him if he didn't want to move.

Upstairs they find a lightweight jacket for Daryl. Beth swears his body temperature runs 30 degrees hotter than a normal human being, but she remembers what he told her once about hating the f-ing cold, so she grabs the jacket and throws it over her arm. They find a new ergonomic hiking pack with a first aid kit attached, a hoodie that doesn't swallow Beth whole, 2 feather light fleece throws, 4 extra pair of socks for each of them, a pair of black jeans that look just about right for Daryl, and a kids' long underwear set for Beth, a small rectangular throw pillow, and a travel pillow that wraps around your neck. It's quite a haul, and it makes Daryl even more suspicious. This place is starting to feel like a trap and it's making his skin crawl.

Beth looks through one more room and finds a couple of long-sleeved t-shirts and a pair of jeans that she can make work for herself. Daryl is chewing on his thumb. The longer they stay, the louder the alarms ring in his head. They are headed back downstairs when Daryl freezes near the bottom of the steps. He throws his arm over Beth's chest and holds her against the wall. Beth follows his line of site to one of the front windows. There is a man on the front porch. His back is to the house and his shaved head is turning left to right and back again like he is scanning the area. He isn't tall, but his shoulders are broad and his forearms rival Daryl's. He is wearing dark navy pants and a matching short-sleeved shirt, tucked-in and belted. Hanging from the belt is a holstered hand gun on one side and a radio on the other.

Daryl pulls her with him down the last four steps, one at a time, quickly and silently. They turn the corner and duck down the back hall toward the kitchen. He can see two figures moving on the other side of the back door at the end of the hall. Daryl thinks about trying to make it across the house to the living room. There was a screened in porch off to the side that overlooks the graveyard. He doesn't remember seeing a door on the porch to the outside, but right now, it's looking like their best bet. He hears voices. Two voices. Both male. Coming from the back porch. The door is solid on the bottom half and decorative glass on the top. The glass is rain beveled and meant to preserve privacy so it's difficult to garner any details about the two men, but it looks like they are dressed exactly like the man on the front porch. From where he and Beth are squatted down between the island and the kitchen sink, Daryl can make out an emblem or a shield over the breast pocket. He has the fleeting thought that this reminds him of all the times he and Merle hid from the cops when Merle did something stupid and drug Daryl smack dab in the middle of it.

One of the men is smoking. It's getting dark outside, a little past dusk. Daryl can see the end of the cigarette light up with each draw. He looks at Beth and whispers, "I'm gonna' get closer. You go to the living room. Get out that way."

"No. Daryl, I'm not leaving you."

"I'll meet you on the other side of the honeysuckle. Now, go."

"Daryl!" she shout-whispers.

"Go, Beth. There's no time."

Everything inside of her is screaming for her to stay with Daryl. Splitting up is a terrible idea. She knows it in her heart. But she trusts Daryl, and she knows he must have a plan. So, she goes. She slips around the island and across the kitchen. Makes her way down the side hall and ends up in the back of the living room.

Daryl eases out of the backpack and duck walks down the hall toward the door. He can hear the men clearly now from the other side. "Hey, Licari, any movement? Over…"

A voice answers back from inside the radio. "Negative. They're still upstairs. Over…"

"10-4. Open the gate and lead the herd to the front. Lamson's gonna' cover the back. I'll get the graveyard…"

"10-4…"

"Oh, and Licari, when you pull the car up, leave it runnin' this time. One of those bastards gets near me again, and I'm shootin' your ass. Copy?"

"Shut the hell up, Gorman. I can't help it your ass is too slow to out run those damn things."

Daryl hears the man, Gorman, give a hardy chuckle and it turns his stomach.

The third man, Lamson, asks Gorman if he wants him to wait outside or in the house.

"Take him out on the inside this time. Do it when they get to the bottom of the stairs. Head shot. No stupid ass mistakes. I'll grab the girl in the graveyard if you don't get her first."

Daryl heart seizes at the man's words. He takes off. Half crawls, half runs back to the kitchen and tucks-in behind the wall. He hears Lamson open and shut the back door. Sees him walk past the opening to the kitchen and on down the hall. When Lamson stops and flattens his back against the wall, waiting for Daryl and Beth to emerge from upstairs, Daryl whistles. It's a quick, sharp, attention getting whistle that spins Lamson around to face him. Lamson has no time to register the simple fact that he's a dead man before Daryl releases a bolt straight into his heart. Shocked recognition spreads across his face and he drops like a rock. Daryl grabs his pack and tosses it on his back. Pulls the bolt from the dead man's chest, and hot-foots it down Beth's path to the living room. He makes it to the porch and sees her moving from one headstone to another in the yard. She is ducking behind each one and pausing before she takes off for the next, staying low and moving quickly. Daryl scans the yard for the man that did all the talking, but he doesn't see any sign of him. He throws open the porch door and charges charges down the steps just as Beth pulls up short and throws her hands in the air. Gorman appears from behind a marble statue marking one of the graves. Grabs Beth and spins her. Holds her to him with a forearm across her chest and shoves his gun into her temple. He moves the two of them closer to Daryl. Tells him to drop the bow, "or this little lady here, dies."

Daryl lowers his crossbow and keeps his eyes locked on Gorman. "Now the pack," Gorman demands.

Daryl slides the pack from his back and drops it next to his crossbow. Gorman flicks his gun and motions for Daryl to move away from the bow. "On your knees."

Daryl obliges and Gorman gives Beth a shove. Makes sure she feels the barrel of the gun against the back of her head. He grabs his handcuffs and tosses them to Daryl. "Put 'em on."

Daryl does what he is told. He won't risk Beth.

Gorman moves Beth with him toward the crossbow and the pack. Tells Daryl to lay flat on his stomach. Tells Beth to get on her knees and drop her pack next to Daryl's. When she does, the jar of grape jelly that Daryl was dipping his fingers in rolls out. Reality crashes in, and Beth lets go of a quiet, panicked sob. She looks at Daryl, her source of strength and comfort, and zeroes in on his eyes. Daryl jerks his chin in her direction and gives her a small smile. She thinks it's probably his way of saying goodbye, but Beth refuses to believe that this is the end. Gorman says something lude about her looking good on her knees. Says, "we're gonna' have a lot of fun together, you and me. You got a name, pretty girl?"

Beth doesn't answer. Keeps her eyes locked on Daryl.

"I said, 'you got a name'?" She can hear the temper rising in his voice, but she remains silent. She won't give him the satisfaction of her obedience.

"Name!" he snaps. Beth stands firm, eyes still locked on Daryl's. She can just imagine what she is in for if this guy takes her away from Daryl. Decides she won't let that happen without a fight.

Gorman bends on one knee next to her. Grabs her ponytail and jerks her head back. "First thing you're gonna' learn when we get back to Grady is respect. I'm fixin' to save you. And that means you owe me. That little herd we keep pinned up over there on the other side? They're gonna' get tired of fightin' over those rats we put on the porch." He looks over his shoulder. "Here comes a couple of 'em now. You come with me easy, and I don't shoot your boyfriend over there. Give him a chance to get away. You give me trouble, and I'll put a bullet in his leg. Let the biters take care of the rest." He lets go of her ponytail and leans in close to her ear. His breath is putrid against her cheek. "Now tell me your name," he whispers menacingly.

Beth is gripping the grape jelly jar by her knee. She's been edging it closer since he kneeled down beside her. She takes a deep breath and screams. It's a guttural roar that shocks the uniformed prick by her ear. She puts everything she has into slamming the jar against the side of Gorman's head. The jar shatters on impact and Gorman hits the ground. Beth shoots up and towers over him. She's shaking from head to toe and breathing so fast she thinks she might pass out, but she isn't done. Two walkers focus in on her and Gorman. They pick up the pace, spurred by Beth's war cry and the smell of Gorman's blood. Beth ignores them. Stomps Gorman's face with the heel of her boot. Daryl is screaming her name. Yells for her to move. He sounds terrified, and that snaps her back into rational thought. She follows his voice and sees him behind her holding his crossbow awkwardly. Beth frowns and remembers the handcuffs. She squats next to Gorman. Hears the familiar click of Daryl's bow followed by a quiet thump somewhere close behind her. She digs through Gorman's pockets and comes up with a key. Beth flies to Daryl and unlocks the cuffs. He shoves her behind him and slams his bow into a walker's head. Two more are quickly shuffling their way. They grab their packs and head for the honeysuckle.

Daryl leads them along the tree line at the edge of the woods. They stay within the trees and follow the gravel road leading from the trap house to the pavement. It's dark now, the moon is just a sliver in the sky. It's almost too dark for Beth to see her feet in front of her. She is holding on to the tail of Daryl's vest, stepping exactly where he steps. Grateful for something to focus on. Daryl hears the car running and slows his pace. The car is dark, maybe black, but the head lights and the interior light are on. Only one person is visible in the front seat. Daryl sheds the big pack and drops it silently at Beth's feet. Turns and cups her face. "You okay?" he whispers. She nods her head in his hands. He pulls her to him and holds her tight. "Bravest person I ever met. Fierce," he mumbles into her hair. She isn't even sure it was meant for her to hear.

Daryl tells her to wait here. Reminds her to stay sharp. The herd that Gorman let loose looked to be about 12 in number. Most of them will hover around his dead body, fighting for a spot at the human buffet. But stragglers will likely head toward the sound of the motor. Daryl says he is going to the car to take care of the driver. Secure them a ride out of here. He kisses her, quick and hard, on the lips. Takes a second to look her over. Then drops to his belly. Slides down the grassy incline with his crossbow strapped to his back. Beth sinks to her knees next to a tree and stares into the darkness. She can't see him anymore. Feels overwhelmingly alone. Panic rises in her chest, even more so than when that prick Gorman had her on her knees. Her heart is pounding against her ribs. She needs to be with Daryl. Needs to see him. She finds her strength when he is near.

Daryl hits the gravel and belly crawls to the rear passenger door. He swings his feet toward the back tire and lifts his head to peak in the side mirror. The uniform clad man has his eyes glued to the driver's side mirror. He is trained on the rear of the car, watching and waiting for two men that won't be joining him. Daryl doesn't like his position. This asshole peaks at the passenger side mirror and Daryl is busted. He slides silently toward the front of the car. Beth can see flashes of the moon reflected off his crossbow as he moves. She remembers to breathe. Relaxes her painful grip on the backpack at her side.

The headlights set low on the bulky, four-door sedan. Daryl considers his options. Decides to keep moving across the front of the car on his belly. He pulls his bow from his back. He will have to hold it out in front of him. If he leaves it on his back, it will traverse the beams from the headlights and give him away. He stops between the two headlights and grabs a few pebbles from the drive. He needs to get the drivers attention to the other side of the car. Make sure the element of surprise stays with him. He is just about to toss a pebble blindly over the top of the car, hoping to hit the rear, when a loud bang makes him jump. He hears Beth yelling, "Hey! Hey! Over here!" and pounding on the bumper of the car. The driver-side door opens and Daryl leaps to his feet. Buries a bolt in the man's neck without hesitation. Asshole never saw it coming. Beth flings the back door open and wiggles out of the big pack. Tosses it across the back seat and slams the door. She and Daryl both slide into the front at the same time. Beth looks over her shoulder and sees several walkers heading their way. Looks back at Daryl to find him staring at her in disbelief. "Damn, girl," he says. He had intended to yell at her for taking a risk like that, but her eyes are wild, and her cheeks are flushed. She's beautiful and brave and she is his partner, one hundred percent. She took a calculated risk to save them both, and he can't fault her for that.

Daryl slams the sedan in gear and throws gravel at the walkers on their tail. They hit the pavement and make a left turn headed north. Beth leans over the seat and surveys the stash in the back. There are a few blankets stacked on the seat and a cardboard box filled with canned goods, two more jars of peanut butter, and another jar of jelly. Beth reaches for the jelly and looks at the label. Peach. "Thank goodness," she whispers. She isn't sure she can ever stomach seeing grape jelly again.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed my take on the funeral home scene. I think it's time B&D find their family!