Survival - Chapter Three

"Sometimes even to live is an act of courage." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

The backroads and streets blurred into one as they left the county, weaving around abandoned vehicles and rotten corpses, and the three travelled in silence. Emily sat slumped in the backseat, her tangled blonde hair scraped back from her face, her eyes watching the passing scenery. Silence was both a blessing and a curse. It allowed her the quiet to think, to relive the past twelve days, but the silence was deafening. Hers and Daryl's conversation plagued her mind. She had known the man for twenty-six years, and yet she still couldn't read him. Daryl's thoughts were closed off from the rest of the world. And with Merle beside him, the two forced back together in the heat of the mess, Daryl remained silent.

"You got a weapon?"

Emily turned to her right and showed Daryl the pistol she had tucked into the waistband of her jeans. At his surprised look, she elaborated. "A parting present from Josh. He didn't want me running 'round these parts with no protection." Her words were mumbled, and she turned away from her once-upon-a-time friend. "My aim isn't all that great."

Daryl nodded. "A shot will only attract them."

"Then it's a good thing I held onto this, then, huh?" And with that, Emily lifted the leg of denim material to reveal a long hunting knife strapped to her calf - nine inches in length. "Not the best place to hide it," she admitted, releasing it from its sheath. The blade glinted in the dim gaslight, and she held it in the air. She swallowed. "Remember this?"

He nodded. "I gave you that blade for your birthday." And that was all he said. He moved away from her, bruising her shoulder with his, and beckoned her to follow him through to the abandoned hotel.

And with a sigh, she followed.


Jake's. The sight of the bar made Emily's skin crawl.

"I'm surprised Little Emily," leered Merle, glancing at the woman stationed in the back of the cruiser, "you got no bastard kids wandering around this neck of the woods."

"What?" barked Daryl. "You worked at the bars?"

"Had to make it through grad school, didn't I?" She shook her head. "Don't look at me like that, Dixon. I did what I had to." She rubbed her arms, hoping the friction would warm her pale skin. "The pay was terrible but the shifts were short and nearly bearable." And as she spoke, she was idly aware of Merle clambering out of the car to head toward the bar. Not wanting to be trapped under Daryl's heated gaze, she too jumped out of the car and followed Merle inside.

"You worked here?" repeated Daryl, lip curled in disgust, never far behind.

"Saved her ass a couple o' times too," grinned Merle, steering to the left. He disappeared behind the counter, snatching bottles of booze from the bar-top.

"Don't remind me," sneered Emily, taking a sip from her water bottle.

"You know what kind o' idiots hang round those parts, Em-?"

"People like your brother?" she reminded him quietly, levelling her glare at him. "Your brother and I have an understanding, Daryl. It's a shitty one, but it's there. He made sure no one touched me. He made sure no one bothered me."

"Yeah?" said Daryl. "And what was his prize?"

Emily closed her eyes. This isn't what she had expected. This isn't what she had wanted.

"Don't hide from me, Emily. What was his prize, huh?"

Her eyes snapped open, and she kicked the floor. "He promised to look after me, and in return I turned a blind eye to the goings on in the darkest areas of the bar. You know as well as I do that I must've been the only human being in this place with a conscience. In turn, Merle was just looking out for himself. If things got rough, Merle was there to straighten them out. In the end, I had my shifts arranged at the only times I knew your brother would be there. A deal with the devil."

Daryl shook his head. "And Josh? What does he think to this, huh?"

Emily paused. "He doesn't know."

"So you never told him?" laughed Daryl, still shaking his head.

"He's off fighting for his country, and you think I'm going to let him worry about a few bar shifts at the bad end of town? He didn't need to know!" And Emily let out a heavy breath, pushing past Daryl and out of the saloon. She stood outside, keeping watch for Biters and stray survivors, grimacing as the Georgian sun shone in her eyes. Hearing light footsteps behind her, she didn't need to turn to know that Daryl had followed her out of the building.

The two stood in silence, minutes passed, and the couple jumped in alarm as gunshots rang out in the warm air.

"What the hell?" muttered Daryl, forcing himself against the doors. "Merle!" And with both him and Emily pushing themselves against the wood, the doors opened and the two tumbled back into the bar.

"Don't kill me, brutha!" pleaded a voice. It sounded familiar, and Emily drew in a sharp breath at the sight.

"I ain't your brother," spat Merle, keeping his gun trained on the crumpled figure.

"It wasn't my idea to sell you out! I swear it!"

"Oh, I believe you, Ash. You're just too damn chicken-shit to cross me. Now, why don't you tell me where the rest of the club's at," and with that, Merle levelled the barrel of his gun at the man's head, staring him dead in the eye.

"Out, man! Lookin' for stuff!"

"Oh, damnit, Merle," hissed Daryl, shaking his head in disgust. "This whole trip was just for your stash?"

Merle glowered. "Quit your bellyaching," he barked. "You're giving me a headache, son."

Daryl pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. "Jess was right about you, you selfish son-of-a-bitch!"

"Don't be that way," grunted Merle. "Look," he said, gesturing across the bar to where a familiar sight is hidden beneath broken tables and glass bottles. "I kept that crossbow of yours."

"Man, you just don't get it, do you?" And just as Daryl spat out his words, a fourth man entered the saloon and yelled as he caught sight of the Dixon brothers. He yelled Merle's name before exiting the bar, shouting to alert the other members of the crew. The first gang member escaped the confrontation and shouted to the others.

Daryl and Emily stood side-by-side, and the blonde worried her lip between her teeth. But before she was able to comment on the goings on at the bar, two larger men tackled them to the floor, grunting and shouting with each blow they delivered to the couple's heads. "Go on," grunted the larger of the two. "Grab all his shit! And the girl! We gotta get to Merle before he can ride."

Daryl's eyes fluttered to a close, his eyes blinded by the darkness, and he watched through half-lidded eyes as the men dragged Emily's beaten form from the bar.