Did you all see the news about that woman biting Norman Reedus at Walker Stalker Con? He even posted on Instagram about it. My god, people can be crazy.

I hope you enjoy today's chapter!

...

Beth watched the scene outside, her breath misting up and then crystallising on the glass, frozen in place. Soldiers went in and out of the bakery for the next few hours, Commandant Blake himself disappearing inside at about half-past four. Beth watched his broad back going through the doorway and she gripped the windowsill with her hands. There was a terrible finality to it. If he was going in then Daryl wasn't coming out.

The soldiers outside by the broken door were listless, bored even. They waited by the van by Ana's dead body, smoking cigarettes and chatting. One of the soldiers closed the van doors.

It had been Beth's idea to help Ana escape, and now she was dead. They'd done something wrong. Beth had been followed, or their presence in the safe house had been noticed.

Eventually Commandant Blake and the soldiers gathered outside. They got back into the van and drove away, leaving one man by the broken door of the bakery to guard it.

Beth started to panic. She hadn't been able to think straight since she'd heard the gunshots and she wasn't thinking any more clearly now. There was no one she could go to. She didn't know anyone else in Daryl's group. Was she supposed to just go to work and face the commandant, pretending she didn't know his men had just murdered Ana? Not beg him to know what had happened to Daryl?

The only thing she did know was where Daryl lived. In case of emergencies. If ever there was an emergency, this was one. It was illogical, even a foolish place to go under the circumstances, but she had nothing else, except a crazy hope that he might be there.

There were a few early risers on the streets as she hurried toward Daryl's block of flats. What had he said? Top floor, apartment 4B. It was an old, unloved building with a loose bannister rail and creaking stairs. She ran all the way to the top floor and hammered on the door to 4B.

Please be there. It makes no sense, but please be there somehow.

The door opened. A sleepy figure rubbed his eyes and muttered, 'Whaddya want?'

Merle.

She barrelled into the apartment, shoving him back and slamming the door behind her. 'You did this!' she shrieked. 'You've killed him! You've killed him.' Hours of pent up fear and anxiety were unleashed on the man. She battered at him with his fists that he fended off easily.

'Jesus fuck, girl. What the hell's goin' on?' He caught Beth's wrists in his hands. His face was creased from sleep and he was groggy. He'd slept in his clothes and wore a dirty white t-shirt that reeked of cheap whisky, and a black vest.

Beth's chest heaved and she struggled against his grip. 'You're a spy,' she accused. 'You've thrown your own brother to the Stasi, you've –'

One of Merle's hands clamped over her mouth. 'Shut it,' he hissed. He gave her a hard look, telling her he meant it, and then released her and went over to the wireless and switched it on. With the announcer blaring, he came back to her. 'Daryl says this place could be bugged. I don't know what sort of shit's goin' down this side of the Wall but you're gonna talk us both dead if you don't keep your fuckin' voice down.' He spoke in a ragged whisper. 'Now why the fuck have you come here screamin' like a banshee?'

'The tunnel,' Beth hissed. 'The tunnel you came through. Daryl thought it was safe and he tried to take a girl through tonight. She was shot, killed, and now he's disappeared. He's probably dead. How could you do this to him?'

'Daryl's the fuckin' traitor? Daryl?' Merle reeled back, blinking. Beth could see he was thinking rapidly, piecing things together.

'Like you didn't know. Like you just didn't give him up to the Stasi,' Beth said.

He shook his head. 'I didn't know. How the fuck do you know? Who are you?'

Beth watched him carefully. He reeked of booze and he was probably still drunk, and she'd surprised him half asleep. His shock seemed to be genuine. But she'd learned her lesson with Commandant Blake: you couldn't trust anyone, not matter how sincere they looked. People hid their true face.

'I'm no one. Turn me into your bosses, I don't care. His blood is on your hands.' Beth turned and left the apartment. She was outside and along the street when she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

Merle caught up with her and grabbed her arm. 'Listen. Listen would you? Slow down.'

Beth slowed her pace but kept walking. She'd had no sleep and she didn't know what she was going to do next. If she didn't keep moving she was going to fall apart.

'How do you know that girl's dead?'

'They slung her in the back of the van. She looked dead to me.'

'And Daryl? Did you see him at all?'

Beth shook her head. Why was he even asking her? He could find these things out from his handler. He was obviously a spy.

'If you didn't see him bein' carted off too then he's not dead. He's escaped.'

She wheeled to face him, stopping in her tracks. 'Then why weren't they looking for him? They were just standing around.'

Merle laughed. 'Escaped down the tunnel, girl. He's in West Berlin.'

…

'Maggie. Maggie, wake up.'

It was half-past five and Maggie had been fast asleep. Her eyes fluttered open as Beth shook her. 'Beth, what's wrong?' She sat up, immediately awake.

Beth felt exhausted tears slip down her face. 'Daryl's gone.' She told her sister the whole story in a whisper. The plan to get Ana out. The soldiers. The gunfire. And Merle.

Maggie thought for a moment. 'He could be right. That would explain why the soldiers weren't searching for him. They couldn't follow him into West Berlin.' She looked at her sister. 'You need to sleep, Beth. You have to go to work soon and pretend that everything's normal.'

Beth shook her head. 'I don't know if I can face that man.'

'The commandant? Beth, you have to. You can't act differently. When you became a part of this you knew that you couldn't just walk away if you got scared. We're stuck here for now. This is our life.'

Despite Beth's protests Maggie helped her out of her coat and shoes put her into her own bed that was still warm. 'I've set my alarm clock for you for seven-thirty. Try and sleep till then, okay?'

When she was alone Beth closed her eyes, but her thoughts wouldn't stop. We're stuck here for now. They might be stuck there forever. Without Daryl they were going to have to work out their own way to escape. She would have to take his place for Maggie and Glenn, and she would need to do it alone as she didn't know anyone else in the group.

Without Daryl. Those two words made her feel utterly bereft.

…

'Beth, you look like death warmed up.'

Beth hung up her coat and scarf and took the cover off her typewriter. 'I had a terrible night,' she said to Lori. Her hand fluttered over her belly. 'Cramps.' She'd never had bad cramps but she knew some women did, and it was difficult to get hold of aspirin. It was the best excuse she could come up with.

'Here. Look up at me.' Lori came over with her compact and sat on Beth's desk. Beth dutifully turned her face up to Lori and let her powder her tired, dull skin. 'Now a tiny bit of blusher and some lipstick … there. Much better.' She hesitated. 'This is for you,' she whispered. 'Not to please him.'

Beth couldn't help but smile. 'Thank you, Lori.'

'He's in a foul mood today,' Lori went on in a whisper. 'Something went wrong on an operation last night. Shane's been in there with him for the last half hour. Why don't you take them in some coffee?'

Beth wanted to refuse but she knew Maggie was right: she couldn't act any differently now. She nodded and went to get the coffee tray.

As she always did, she knocked softly on the commandant's door and pushed it open. He was behind his desk and Comrade Walsh was sitting opposite, arms folded. Beth remembered the disinterested way he'd looked at Ana's body, as if she were just a pile of rags and not a dead girl.

'… and she's the last person we expected to find down there. A girl like that should have been subdued … Ah, thank you Fraulein Greene. Just here on the desk,' the commandant said. Beth put the coffee down and left the two men.

She went back to her desk and worked slowly through her typing, turning the commandant's words over in her mind. He and Walsh had to be talking about Ana. So, they hadn't known it was Ana who was going to escape, they just knew someone was going to, and via that tunnel. It had to be Merle who'd betrayed Daryl. He'd found out about the tunnel from old members of the group and had come through it and told the Stasi about it. How could he do such a thing to his own brother?

Unless … Beth didn't want always to look for the best in people, not after what had happened with the commandant. But what if Merle hadn't known that it was his own brother getting people out? Maybe he'd just wanted to ingratiate himself with the Stasi and used whatever information that came to hand? It explained why he'd said Daryl's the traitor?

It was possible. Either way, she didn't trust Merle. It was his fault that Daryl was in West Berlin, lost to them forever.

…

'Beth, why don't you come into my office?'

Beth looked up from her typing, face carefully neutral. Lori was at lunch. The commandant was standing in his open doorway, doing his best impersonation of an affable man.

It had been four days since Daryl had disappeared. Every morning and every evening she hoped for him to step out of the shadows and appear at her side, like nothing had happened. The city of millions felt empty without him. She was going to have to accept that he wasn't coming back.

Go to hell. 'Yes, of course,' she said lightly, and followed him into the office.

Blake sat down beside his desk and Beth sat before him. 'I'm sorry, I've been meaning to talk to you sooner but I've had my hands full this week. It's about your father.'

Beth stiffened. She hadn't expected that. It hadn't crossed her mind that Blake would actually help them.

He looked grave. 'I haven't been able to find much out. Some files are closed even to me. But if I could demonstrate some willingness on your family's part to work with us it might help your father.'

'What sort of thing did you have in mind?' Beth asked. She knew what he meant. Spying. Informing on her friends and neighbours. She didn't believe him when he said that some files were closed to him. He was the commandant of their sector. He had to know everything that had happened. What he meant was that he wouldn't help her unless she helped him.

He tapped his thumb lightly on the table top. 'Well, as you know the Stasi are in the business of keeping East Germans safe. There are those, though, who don't want us to be safe, and seek to undermine what we have.'

Beth fought to keep her face neutral. What they had? They had nothing but lies and queues and oppression.

'It takes many forms,' he went on. 'Speaking out against the government, even in the smallest way. Plotting. Planning escapes. But mostly it's all talk, and it's damaging talk. It makes people unhappy. If you were able to keep an ear open for this sort of thing, and if you brought anything to me – names, addresses, that sort of thing – it would help your father immeasurably. No one would need to know. I'd keep your contribution a secret.'

Beth wanted to slap his face. How dare he coerce her like this and try to make her think that he was acting benevolently? But she had to be clever, and pretend like she believed him. 'I can do that,' she said. She could, but she wouldn't. And that meant she and Maggie and Shawn were never going to see Hershel again. It hurt so much, but she couldn't betray strangers for these people.

He smiled. 'Good girl. Do you have anything you'd like to tell me now?'

Wouldn't you like to know.

But she could tell him nothing about Daryl and his group. She didn't know anything, really. Nothing that also didn't implicate her and Maggie.

Or rather, she knew one thing. At the birthday party she'd seen Comrade Grimes give Daryl a piece of paper surreptitiously. What would it be worth to Blake to know that one of the Party members might be implicated in an escape plot? Beth had observed the exchange in all innocence. Nothing could lead back to her and her family. And they would be able to know something about their father's imprisonment. Maybe even see him.

And Daryl? Well, he was gone for good. The commandant wouldn't be able to hurt him now.

Beth bit her lip. Comrade Grimes. Lori's ex-husband. Maybe it was nothing, and Beth wouldn't even get anyone into trouble, but it would mean they would get to see their father. She looked at Blake. It would be just so easy to tell him.