Chapter 9: The Deer
They had to haul off the walker bodies using just the dancing shadows of the fire, because they didn't have any more flashlight batteries. Without any light or food to eat, people had no reason to stay up, so everyone else started to head off to bed even though it was still early. She knew she wouldn't sleep, so she didn't even bother laying down. Hershel had first watch, but he didn't say much. Probably tired of her snapping at him, like everyone else. She should pretend like everything would be okay, but after a whole day of combing the woods on an empty stomach with no sign of Daryl, she just didn't have the strength.
Every time Rick bent to frown at a set of tracks, she wanted to scream. She could tell he had no idea what he was looking at.
A rustling came from the trees. Both their heads came up, and Hershel swapped a look with her as they listened in breath-held silence. Dry leaves crackled again. Too loud, too clomping and uneven to be Daryl's smooth gait. "I've got it," she muttered. She checked her gun, unholstered her knife, and headed for the trees. She could use to stab something right now.
But once she blinked her eyes to adjust to the dark, she could see what was coming and she had no idea what it was. The shape was all wrong to be human. It was huge and hunched, staggering like a walker but with shoulders as wide as a Volkswagen, and no head. She raised her knife, shaking. What new horror did this world have to reveal now?
"Rick!" she called out. "Get everybody into the cars!"
Camp exploded into motion behind her and then there was a whistle. Quick, a little off note, but one she'd heard a thousand times. It meant the way ahead was safe.
Daryl.
He emerged into the light, reeling under the weight of the deer that was slung whole across his shoulders. She took a step and stumbled, falling weakly against a tree. Her free hand climbed to her throat and the edges of her vision went black and quaking. Too little food, too much fear. And now there he was, right in front of her. Whole and alive and she couldn't fully grasp the idea of it anymore. He was here.
Daryl turned a little and grinned, so wide she caught a flash of his teeth. "Ya hungry?" he said, but then Rick called out and he kept going toward camp, catching up with the other men who helped him heave the burden off his back.
He rolled his right shoulder stiffly, turning in a circle and smiling while the other guys pounded him on the back. Carl ran up to hug him, which he shook off quickly.
He was so bloody he was nearly as dark as T-dog. The crossbow hung crooked on his back and even from here, she could see the bits of gore clinging to his hastily restacked arrows. His shirt was torn all the way to the belt and his jacket was missing—how had he survived a night out without a jacket? His face looked swollen, battered somehow amidst all that blood and he was limping a little, now rubbing his left shoulder.
She couldn't stop staring. It felt like it shifted her entire world, to know he was alive.
#
Nobody could wait until the deer was fully cooked before eating. They kept snatching off pieces as soon as they were blackened a little, burning their fingers. And jockeying for the story, of course.
"I's up a tree for most of it," Daryl said. "Don't think my ass'll ever be the same."
"Well, it wasn't much to write home about anyway," Hershel said.
"Don't be jealous, old man." Daryl smiled, his face white and clean. Lori had come up with enough water for him to wash up and Rick had loaned him his spare clothes. He looked odd in the plain flannel. Too shiny, too normal to be her Daryl. She missed his vest, though she doubted she'd ever get all the blood out of the wings.
"Why didn't you just shoot the walkers from the tree?" Carl wanted to know.
"Used up all my bolts keeping them offa the deer carcass. The blood's what drew them in, I think. There were too many to get out of the tree, so I was going to wait until morning to finish them. I was trying to get my knife tied to a stick with my belt to make a spear, but it kept coming loose, wasn't working." He took another big chomp of deer, but barely got a chance to chew before Glenn interrupted.
"So what'd you do? How'd you get out?"
"Couldn't wait for morning. They got tired of waiting on me, went for the deer. So I had to come outta the tree. Took out as many as I could, but then my knife got caught in a fresh skull." He shrugged, went back to eating.
Carol tried to rub the feeling back into her arms, but she couldn't even feel them. Could barely feel the ground underneath her. She should have checked him over for walker scratches herself. But she knew if he had one, he'd never have come back to camp. He'd have finished it himself.
"How'd you kill the rest?" Carl said. "With rocks?"
Daryl scowled, starting to bristle under the unaccustomed attention. "You gonna ask me how my last shit came out, too? What's it matter? Eat your damned deer."
"I'd kind of like to know, too, actually," Rick said. "It could be good tactics, something the group could use again."
"Doubt it." Daryl spat a piece of gristle into the fire. "Ripped a rib outta one of the rotten ones. Used it to finish him and bunch o' others till I could grab a bolt."
"Nice!" Carl crowed.
Beth grinned. "Wow. That's incredible."
Lori watched him with big worried eyes over her slice of deer. "You should start bringing a gun with you. The crossbow's quieter, I know, but for emergencies."
"Had a gun." He sucked some juice off his fingers, chased a drip down his wrist with his tongue. "Used up all the bullets."
"Jesus," T-dog murmured. "How many were there?"
"Enough." Daryl shrugged. "Been in worse spots. Got off easy, this time."
"Worse?" T-dog sputtered. "You kiddin' me? Like what?"
"Like when I had to pull a bolt out of my own damn self to shoot a walker, 'cause it was the last one I had." He ripped deer meat off the bone with his teeth, flicking a glance toward Carol.
She was distracted, for just a minute, by trying to remember when he'd ever had an arrow wound. When he was looking for Sophia and he got thrown off that horse and fell on his own crossbow bolt. It must have been. But she'd never heard him tell the story about the walker before.
Daryl looked at her again, longer this time. His eyes were so light blue, it made her realize how often she saw him only in bad light. "Why ain't you eatin'?"
"I'm not very hungry," she murmured, her stomach twisting into ugly knots at the thought of him alone in a tree with an entire herd of walkers reaching for him. In the dark. With no coat. No bullets. No arrows. And still he didn't just use the deer as a distraction and save himself. Had he been planning on coming back at all, if he couldn't bring food?
"Bullshit." He snorted. "I barely seen you take a bite in three days. So skinny your ribs damn near stabbed me in the kidney on the bike. That's where I got the idea for the walkers from." He sent the slightest smile Carl's direction, and the boy crowed with delight and pumped a fist in the air.
Carol stood up.
"I wasn't that hungry," she said clearly, staring him down with every word of his horrific story hanging in the air between them. Against all her efforts, tears jumped to her eyes when she looked at him. She whirled away, striding blindly into the night.
"Christ," Daryl swore. "What is it with you goddamn people? I can't never fuckin' win."
Carol wasn't stupid enough to go far. Just to the front of the cars, where she bent forward under the pain in her stomach. Bile rose in her throat, but there was nothing behind it to come out. She swallowed, squeezing her hands into fists until she could feel the tiny sting of each of her fingernails. How much pain must he be in, even now? For a deer.
"Honey," Lori's gentle voice came around the car. "Come on back and eat."
"I said I wasn't hungry."
Her friend touched her back. "I know what you meant. But if you don't eat, you're spitting on everything he did to get that deer for us."
"He could have died for that stupid deer. What was he thinking? Does he think that's what we would have wanted? That we'd give him up for food?"
"He didn't intend for it to go that way, obviously." Lori ducked her head, trying to look Carol in the eye. "But when it did, he did what he had to do to bring the deer back. To feed you." She brushed Carol's hair smooth. "Honey, he hunts for the whole group but what he did? I think that might have been for you."
Carol nearly doubled over under a twist of pain in her gut. She didn't know if it was stress, or if the smell of fresh meat was too rich for her empty stomach, or maybe both.
"I don't want that," she gritted out. "I wanted him to come home."
"I know." Lori smoothed her hand over Carol's hair and down her back. "But you've got to show him that in…other ways. Not by throwing what he did for you back in his face."
Carol cleared her throat, did her best to stand up straight. "Daryl and I aren't like that."
The other woman watched her, concern in every line of her face. "Maybe not. But you're something. And whatever that something is, it's pretty important to that man. Makes me think his heart's probably pretty twisted up right now."
Carol scrubbed her hands over her face. "I can't think. Too cold, too hungry. Too…god I've been so afraid. You've no idea how sick afraid I've been."
"Yeah," Lori said, "I do."
"Sorry. Sorry, of course you do." She threw her a guilty look. "But this is just…I don't know what's all going on with us," she confessed in a rush. "I don't know what I want, I've got no idea what he wants, I don't know what's best for the group and I can't ever get a moment to just think."
"Just be kind," Lori said. "He doesn't look it, but he's really sensitive, that one." She rubbed her back. "Come on back and have some food. You can figure the rest out later."
"Of course. I'm sorry to be so emotional." Carol wiped her eyes with one sleeve and straightened her shoulders, coming with Lori back to the fire.
The rest of the group was quiet now, the only sounds the scrape of teeth on bones. Carol tried to meet Daryl's eyes but he didn't look up. "Thank you," she said softly, and took a piece of meat off one of the spits.
"What, Mommy make you say thanks for your dinner?" he sneered. "Fuck you. Why don't you go polish the hubcaps on the truck or somethin'? Show everybody how important you are to the group. I don't need you and your fucking thanks." He shucked a fat rib bone into the fire. It was still thick with meat and Carl dove for it. Lori caught him and hauled him back before he burned himself, but he dug it out with a stick, blowing the ashes off it as Daryl stalked away.
"All right," Rick said, his mouth tight as he very pointedly didn't look at her. "That went well."
Author's Note: Up next…oh man, what can I say without spoilering it? Well, let's say there is some action and suspense, and the chapter is named "Naked." I love you guys so much for all your support and reviews for this story! * blows kisses*
Hey, question for you: Do you guys read more fic on weekdays or weekends, or about the same? Trying to figure out a more effective/regular update schedule here.