Daryl shook with anger, the vibration in his body echoing the aftershock of the tank's welcoming cannon shot. In the corner of the yard, the western guard tower blazed and slowly disintegrated. Squinting, Daryl watched Rick stride across the yard, dwarfed by the line of vehicles and the heavy artillery pulled up outside the fence. His fingers twitched as he stared at the familiar figure on side of the tank.
Philip, the damn Governor. He sucked in a deep breath, suddenly seething with the need to drive a knife through the bastard's sneering face.
Some distance beyond the vehicle cavalcade a thin plume of white smoke drifted skyward, from - he assumed - the pyre of dead place Asha, Hershel and Michonne had lit.
They could still be out there hidden in the woods. That could give them an advantage, some element of surprise against the Governor.
He hung on to that thought.
Rick and the Governor were talking, their words incomprehensible across the distance until the Governor raised his voice. 'Is Hershel on your Council? What about Michonne?'
Daryl's stomach dropped as his friends were pulled from the back of a van and tossed roughly to their knees in front of the line of cars.
Then a blonde form was dragged from the vehicle and hurled to the ground. The curve of her limbs was all too familiar to him. She crumpled forwards, and even from across the yard he could see the dark smear of dried blood across the back of her neck and down her shoulder. Daryl's brain burst into flame.
She wasn't supposed to end up covered in blood again.
He was moving towards the gate before he realised it. Then Maggie was in his way, hand wrapped around his arm.
'Stop,' she hissed.
He growled something incoherent and kept pushing forwards.
'Let Rick handle it. You think I don't want to be down there too? That is my dad.' Her breath hissed harshly. 'You'll just be letting the Governor know he's got more leverage than he already thinks he does.' Her nails dug into his arm, sharp pinpricks of pain in the heat in his brain. 'We need you here.'
A muscle leapt in Daryl's throat and he bared his teeth, eyes flashing back to the line of vehicles. Asha had pushed herself to her knees and she was anxiously searching the courtyard fence line. Daryl felt it, the instant her eyes met his, and he sucked in a breath.
Her chest heaved in time with his.
She's ok. He repeated the words like a mantra.
'Daryl,' Maggie hissed urgently.
Damn it, Maggie was right. He was needed in the yard. He forced himself to focus, scanning the line of vehicles and weighing the odds.
'We can't take 'em all on,' he growled. 'We go through the woods if things go south, we ain't got the numbers any more.'
I ain't leaving her.
He glanced at Maggie, and then the bin full of rifles at the back of the guard tower. 'Hand those out, and let everyone know to go for the bus if needed.'
Maggie nodded, eyes hardening as she moved to the bin.
His eyes slid back to Asha, jaw tightening as he saw her struggling with a huge, dirty haired man who had arms like tree trunks wrapped around her. The huge man suddenly laughed, holding Asha at arm's length as he scraped at his shoulder, and despite the distance Daryl could see the whites roll around Asha's eyes as a look of pure shock passed over her face. She collapsed into the man's chest and Daryl's lips flattened out in jealousy.
The Governor said something to the huge man, words lost to Daryl in the breeze. The man twisted, shifting a shell shocked Asha carefully behind him as turned to the Governor.
'You wanna tell me why my sister is bloody and beaten and was tied up in the back of a van?' the man roared.
Daryl's eyes narrowed as he took in Asha's stunned expression, the guy's size and - visible now he'd turned around - the thick black tattoo around his left forearm.
He exhaled sharply. Holy shit. Nash.
Nash had one hand steadying his sister behind him, and his chin jutted angrily as he traded words with the Governor.
So long as he kept Asha alive, Daryl didn't care how he'd managed to come back from the dead.
Maggie pressed a rifle into his hand, wide eyes looking out across the yard as he took it. 'Is that...'
Daryl jerked his head sharply, slinging his cross bow across his back has he took the semi automatic rifle. Asha had her hand clenched in the back of her brother's shirt and was speaking forcibly in his ear. The Governor was trading words with Rick again, and his voice rang across the yard. 'I have a tank, and I'm letting you walk away. What is there to talk about?'
Daryl glanced around. Their people lined the fence, those of them well enough to be standing anyway. They were too few, but they were ready to fight if that was the way things went down. He felt a sudden fierce surge of pride. Maybe they'd be forced out, but no way they were rolling over without a fight - and if the Governor was stupid enough to hurt any of his hostages…
Coldness stole through Daryl's stomach as he took in Hershel and Michonne on their knees and Asha sheltered behind her brother.
Ain't nothing you can do about that right now.
He moved slowly across to the bin to help Maggie discretely hand out the rest of the weaponry, claiming a semi automatic for himself and palming a hand grenade as he went.
'I can take him out,' Carl said, hefting the rifle Daryl had just passed him onto his shoulder and resting the barrel through the chain link fence. The boy squinted as he sighted through the scope. 'I'm a good shot. I can end this now.'
Daryl rested the barrel of his own rifle through the fence. He peered through the scope and the Governor's forehead leapt magnified into his crosshairs. It was tempting, so tempting. One clean shot and the bastard would fall. It would be worth it – for Merle – even without everything the Governor had done since then.
But if the Governor suddenly fell, Hershel, Michonne, Asha and Rick were all in the immediate firing line. He ground his teeth together.
'Yeah,' he said sourly to Carl. 'Or ya might start something. Ya dad's got this. Gotta trust him.'
Carl's eyes narrowed in the shadow of his sheriff's hat.
Daryl's worked his jaw a couple of times, it was starting to ache from being clenched. Rick had this. He squinted at the prison people lining the fence, trying to think what else needed doing to get everyone out. There wasn't time to try to increase the supplies on the bus, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a line of people boarding the vehicle. He forced himself to breathe a couple of times. They all knew what they were doing. They'd gone over it plenty of times
Carl's sudden intake of breath pulled his attention back to the fence.
Sunlight glinted off Michonne's katana, as the Governor shifted his grip on the blade where it was pressed against Hershel's neck.
The aged vet looked surprisingly calm.
Rick's voice rang out, appealing to the people beyond the fence. 'Is this really what you want?'
There was silence, and Daryl seethed at the smug smirk he could see twitching on the Governor's face, until suddenly it disappeared.
'Not me,' Nash said. The huge man's eyes were locked on the Governor as he swung the automatic rifle off his shoulder and tossed it disparagingly at the Governor's feet.
His voice carried clearly. 'I'm not fighting my sister's people. She says they're good people.' He turned around and addressed his own people. 'Most of you have known me for months. You trust me.' He glanced at his sister. 'And I trust her.'
Nash spread his hands, attention turned back to his group. 'Rick here is offering to let us in. We can live together. We'll be stronger together, and no-one needs to bleed to make it happen. Isn't that what we really want? Somewhere safe to make a home? Why the hell would we turn that down?'
'There's no safety with them,' the Governor roared. 'They're killers.'
'And you've never killed anyone?' Nash challenged. 'What happened to Pete and Martinez, Brian? Or Philip, or whatever the hell your name is?'
Daryl felt the corner of his mouth twitch in a sneer that matched Nash's tone.
'We don't need him to make this decision for us,' Nash said dismissively, gesturing at the Governor. 'We've all got brains. We can all think about this ourselves - and I reckon we should think about what Rick is suggesting.'
Nash fixed a flat eyed stare at the Governor.
Daryl was watching Asha when it happened. Her face was glowing as she watched her brother, eyes wide and shining and small smile on her lips. Then the colour drained from her face, her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged. The sharp gunshot report rang in the air, and from the corner of his eye, Daryl saw Nash topple to the ground.
Asha screamed, an animalistic screech of such loss and pain that it seemed for an instant to be the only sound left in the world. The sound ripped through Daryl's chest and he forgot to breathe as Asha lurched forwards, collapsing by her fallen brother. Her scream choked into pieces, head falling forwards as the loose hair from her braid fell across her face.
There was a shocked silence. Daryl could see Rick's shoulders shift as he heaved a couple of breaths, but before he could speak - before anyone had the presence of mind to move - the Governor crammed his handgun into its holster, gripped Michonne's katana two handed and swung.
He didn't quite have Michonne's technique. The sword lodged partway through Hershel's neck, the old man's head tilting at an unnatural angle and blood fountaining from the gash.
Rick bellowed, lifting his python and firing as he retreated quickly behind the overturned bus in the yard.
Daryl was vaguely aware of Maggie and Beth screaming somewhere nearby, the sound sucked into the cacophony of gunfire that erupted across the yard. His own finger was jammed hard against the trigger adding to the barrage.
After a minute of mindless rampage, the rage hot and bitter in his mouth, he jerked his head back from the scope and scanned the area. Rick was behind the bus, bleeding from the leg but firing his colt python. The Governor had disappeared back between the vehicles with Hershel. He caught a glimpse of Michonne rolling sideways around one of the vehicle's, hands still bound but moving under her own control at least.
Asha...Asha seemed completely unaware of the bullets flying around her. She'd rolled her brother on to his back, and was crouched, half laying in the dirt beside him - her lips moving as she smoothed his hair gently back from his forehead.
Daryl hissed. Damn it woman, get the hell out of there - or at least stay flat on the ground out of the line of fire.
The tank rolled forwards, blocking his vision. Snarling in frustration he fired at the insects cowering behind the safety of the steel clad artillery.
Focus man, ya can't help her till this is taken care of.
He looked for an arm, a limb, a god damn centre body mass protruding behind the tank that he could take a shot at.
The tank rolled inexorably forward.
Right up to the fence.
Right over the fence
The flimsy barrier bulged forwards, chain link straining over the rough angles of the tank, before the upright posts ripped from the ground and a section of first the outer fence and then the inner fence collapsed into a flattened mess. Just like that, the thin metal line between here and there, safety and danger, came crashing down. The tank tracks barely crunched as they rolled over it.
Daryl grit his teeth, swallowing the sour taste in his mouth as he realised that, whatever the outcome of the battle, their home had disappeared.
He had to find Asha. Without the prison to return to, it would be impossible to find each other if they were separated.
He squeezed the trigger, streaming bullets towards the invading force, but the damn tank gave them too much cover. Its main gun boomed and Daryl was suddenly showered in loose mortar as part of the prison wall crumpled above him. As he shook his head to dispel the ringing in his ears, the damn thing fired again and the top of the guard tower exploded in flames. He glanced across the yard and glimpsed the Governor and Rick pounding bare fisted and bloody on each other before they rolled behind the bus.
Behind them, the dead had started to swarm, numbers building as they were drawn by the gunfire.
He couldn't see Asha anywhere.
The tank ploughed through the inner courtyard fence, the prison people scattering in front of it, falling back to positions inside the courtyard and towards the bus. Tyrese was firing somewhere behind him, Maggie and Carl had disappeared. Daryl was by himself on the far side of the tank from the bus. His mouth quirked in grim satisfaction as the people hiding behind the tank suddenly came into his line of view. He kept his finger tight against the trigger until the magazine was empty, then lurched back, taking cover behind an old filing cabinet and couple of pallets as fire was returned.
Beneath the ricochet of bullets he heard the dead snarling as those closest to the prison followed the tank into the yard. He snarled back, jamming his last clip in the rifle. A glance across the yard revealed Rick on the ground, the Governor's hands wrapped around his neck and teeth bared in a rictus of a smile. Daryl froze in shock as he watched Rick struggle, until he saw Michonne stalking like some great panther behind the Governor with her recovered katana in hand. A foot of blood soaked metal suddenly appeared in the middle of the Governor's chest. The eye patched man released Rick, lifting a finger to the blade as if he couldn't quite understand how it had come to be there, before collapsing backwards as Michonne smoothly pulled the blade free.
Daryl smiled in grim satisfaction. It's done Merle.
The deep boom of the tank's cannon sounded again and the prison shook. Shading his eyes from the raining mortar dust, he noted the Governor's people were reduced to a mere handful, but the dead were numerous and fast spilling into the yard. He felt a moment of helplessness as he looked at the armoured vehicle, main gun swinging around to aim at the catwalk. Then he noticed the thin trail of smoke rising from the barrel, and remembered grenade he'd pulled from the bin.
He fired into the nearby dead, scooping up the closest walker and using him as a body shield as he moved towards the tank. The invaders were distracted by the walkers approaching from their rear. Then he pulled the pin and dropped the grenade down the smoking cannon barrel.
There was a satisfyingly panicked yell followed by a deep echoing boom from the tank, and then the hatch slammed open, smoke billowing upwards.
A man with a cap clambered out, choking slightly, and then hesitating, hands up as he came face to face with Daryl. Daryl paused, taking in the tightness around the man's eyes and the sneer on his lips in an instant, and then put a bullet through his chest.
Behind him, he heard the rumble of the bus engine and saw it disappear through the haze of smoke.
At least some of their people had gotten out.
The loss of the tank, and possibly the Governor too, demoralised the few remaining invaders. The odd pop of gunfire somewhere out of sight suggested there were still people somewhere, but mostly he could just see the dead.
Asha…
He couldn't see her near the line of cars any more, but he didn't know where else to look for her. Walkers filled what was left of the yard and one of the horses screamed as they swarmed the makeshift stable.
If he could get out through the dog run he could skirt around the side of the yard and avoid most of the dead.
He lifted his rifle and fired at the dead closing in on him, moving across the courtyard towards the fence. Too late he realised there were more dead in his way then could have filtered in across the yard behind the tank. The reason quickly became apparent. The wooden log supports in the dog run had caved in under the weight of walkers drawn by noise. They spilled over the fence and into the yard, leaving a trail of blood and guts and dismembered limbs as they snagged on the fallen razor wire. Where the dog run joined the corner guard tower, they'd breached the fence and had direct access to the courtyard.
Daryl snarled, lifting the rifle and firing indiscriminately as he was forced back, until there was an empty sounding click. He slammed back behind the filing cabinet and pallets, hard breath tearing through his teeth. He had his crossbow, but with so many dead he'd be hard pressed to recover bolts, and once he was out…
He eyed the bin behind the guard tower across the courtyard. Slim chance, but there might be some ammo left.
He reversed the rifle in his hands so he could swing the butt like club and readied himself for the sprint across the distance. Muscles coiled like springs, a sudden burst of gunfire from behind his flimsy shelter froze him as the dead closest to him fell under a barrage of bullets.
He risked a glimpse around the edge of his shelter, in time to see Asha turn a semi automatic on the walkers following her in from the dog run.
Some of the tightness in his chest loosened, and – braining a walker with the butt of his rifle - he darted the few paces across the courtyard to her. She spun, eyes vacant and empty, gun raised and pointed at his chest and for an instant he wondered if Nash's death had broken her. But then recognition flickered in her eyes - followed by loss so profound he felt the echo of it pull through him - and she breathed his name.
'Daryl'
He wrapped an arm around her, crushing her to him for an instant as she turned those lost eyes on him before he pulled back. She was covered in dirt and blood, but from the searching hand he ran quickly across her, she didn't seem hurt.
She jerked back suddenly, raising her gun to take out the walkers coming up behind him. He pulled her and she stumbled to a run behind him as they darted around the corner of the prison towards the entry to C block – out of the immediate path of most of the incoming dead.
'I have to…,' she mumbled, 'Nash.' Her vacant eyes suddenly turned black with hatred. 'I have to find the Governor.'
'He's dead.'
She jerked, eyes wide on his for a moment.
'Michonne got 'im.'
She paced a couple of steps, eyes narrowed as her mouth twisted. Tears were tracking silently down her cheeks. 'Where?'
He could see she was going to have trouble accepting it without seeing the body. He couldn't blame her. After all the hassle the man had caused he'd want to see the body too. They'd believed he was a good as gone once before and look where that had lead.
He nodded, reaching out a hand to stop her pacing. She bounced away from his fingertips, jerking and missing a step as her pacing continued. He growled quietly, slinging the useless rifle over his shoulder and wrapping both arms around her, pulling her back tight against his chest. She twitched, whole body shaking with tension. He turned her towards the yard, dropping his chin over her shoulder and pointing with one hand.
'There, in the middle of the yard'.
The Governor's unmoving, bloody chested form was just visible in the long grass. Asha stilled. Daryl scanned the area. He couldn't see Rick or Michonne, or any of their group anywhere. Then his eyes narrowed, there was a figure moving through the yard that wasn't a walker. A woman he didn't recognise, who heedless of the dead strode in the direction of the Governor's prone form. Asha gasped, stiffening as the Governor moved. The man struggled up to an elbow, blood bubbling down his chin as his lips moved, hand lifted imploringly to the woman bearing down on him.
'Don't,' Asha hissed, and Daryl knew she wasn't talking to him. 'He doesn't deserve a quick death.'
He tightened his arms around her.
The woman stopped a few paces short of the Governor's feet. She lifted a pistol, gun shaking visibly and hesitated a moment, before squeezing the trigger. The Governor fell flat on his back, and Asha sagged in his arms - and the dead in the yard turned to the sound of the gunshot. The woman simply stood there waiting, gun limp at her side. Asha's chest heaved in the cocoon of his arms as he pulled her attention away.
'Ash,' he murmured in her ear, 'Baby, we gotta go.'
The words struck home as he said them. The Governor was dead, but their home was gone. The fence was down where it had been flattened by the tank and where the weakened section had collapsed. Two of the guard towers flamed and the courtyard was littered with rubble from the attentions of the tank. He could taste the acrid smoke from the burning buildings.
Their people were scattered and Hershel - his arms tightened around Asha as the familiar surge of guilt and pain swirled in his stomach at the thought of the old man. He growled at the feeling, and at the dead coming towards them - something Asha must have noticed too, because she stiffened and stepped away raising the rifle. Out of ammo himself, he took out the two closest dead with his knife. Asha twisted around him with rifle, firing a barrage at the walkers further away. A quick glance showed she was blank faced and flat eyed again.
He ground his teeth together, touching her shoulder and gesturing towards the back of the prison, in the direction the bus had gone. She nodded, squeezing the trigger to clear them a path as he swung his cross bow off his back. Before they'd taken two steps there was a volley of gunfire from the entry to C block, and Beth came hurtling down the stairs, a semi automatic looking ludicrously oversized in her tiny hands.
'I was looking for the kids, to get them on the bus,' she gasped. 'We have to find them.' She glanced around wildly. 'Where's the bus?'
Asha fired at another few walkers. Daryl wasn't even sure she'd heard Beth speak. He wasn't sure how either woman still had any ammo left, but it wasn't going to last forever. He shook his head at Beth, looking around at the smoking ruins.
'We gotta go,' he said, heart heavy with the words. Beth's mouth opened and her brow furrowed, but he cut her off, 'Beth. We gotta go.'
The young woman nodded jerkily, face suddenly white.
Nudging Asha in the shoulder to get her moving in the right direction, Daryl led the two women through a gap in the fence and away from the burning prison.
[A/N: Firstly, thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter! It's one of my faves so i'm glad it prompted a response. And i really, really love getting your comments on this story. Knowing you guys are getting something out of it really does give me a push to keep on writing. Sorry Nash had to die - but i'm glad you weren't happy about it! It would have been fun to integrate him into the group, but Nash dying at the Governor's hands was one of the scenes I had in my head when I started this story, so it was always going to happen. As usual, apologies for the lapse in time between this chapter and the last. But hey, I had a baby, so personally I'm kinda amazed this chapter is going up at all! Also, I hope the time overlap at the start of this chapter with the end of the last wasn't too confusing.]