CHAPTER 7: The Rain
A few days later, stuck on the road again at nightfall, they pitched their tents on the shoulder of the road, on a long straightaway where they had good visibility in all directions. Sometime after midnight in a sudden downpour, they discovered that both tent roofs leaked like a sieve, but the waterproof floors were intact, holding all the water in. Very quickly they realized that their blankets, and their clothes, were all wet. Everyone from the tents hurriedly packed into the vehicles. The nearest one to Carol was the pickup, and she saw that T-Dog was keeping watch under an umbrella, so she jumped into the passenger seat, colliding with Daryl's legs. They both mumbled their apologies as he quickly shifted to make room for her.
Everyone slept fitfully in the cramped and humid conditions, but Daryl hardly slept at all. Being near Carol on the motorcycle all day was one thing – he was busy watching the road for potholes, scanning the treeline for Walkers, leaning into the turns, etc. - but trying to sleep next to her was quite another. He tried to stay on his side of the truck, but with the steering wheel and the gearshift, his legs were really stiff after a while.
Carol fidgeted and struggled with her guilt at his obvious discomfort. Finally, she spoke up, "I think the rain is letting up, I'll go get in the SUV with Rick & Lori."
"Pfft!" Daryl snorted. "They could use some time alone. You just stay put."
Carol protested: "No, it'll be more comfortable for you if you can stretch out again… I'll just go." And she started to open the door.
Daryl reached out and grabbed her arm. "Naw, it's really comin' down, just stay. Try this." And he snaked his right leg behind her back, putting the left one in her lap. "This okay?" he asked.
Carol, always trying to please, said "Yeah" but he could tell that she wasn't sincere. He reached out and pulled her toward him, and she gingerly settled her back against his chest, stretching her legs up on the seat between his.
"Better?" he asked, and was rewarded with a shy smile and a nod. After a few minutes, her breathing became slow and even… and then he realized that his left arm, balanced on the steering wheel, was getting stiff, and his right arm, trapped between Carol and the back of the seat, was going numb. "Damn," he thought to himself, racking his brain for ideas. He tried to ignore his discomfort, but after several more minutes he realized he could never sleep this way. Not knowing what else to do, he carefully moved his arms until he was gently hugging Carol. She sighed in her sleep, reaching one hand up to lay on his. He tried not to twitch at her touch, but he couldn't stop the blush that rose to his cheeks. He berated himself, "Geez, man, it's just a touch, not a kiss." And then he finally drifted off to sleep. And in his dream, he was kissing Carol, first in a dimly-lit bar hallway, then in a dark stockroom.
When he awoke at dawn, Carol was gone, and Daryl had a bad case of morning wood.