Chapter 2
Daryl grabs my arm, this time with a different but more familiar urgency.
"Get on the bank, and pack what you can." He faces the rustling trees and I begin trudging out of the water. I look back as a few walkers stumble into sight. Daryl backs up slowly, still facing them.
"Daryl-"
"Get dressed. They're loud, there will be more."
I don't feel the freezing air, I just beeline for our stuff, packing up everything within reach. Daryl has begun walking up the bank, joining me. I grab my pants from a tree branch when I hear it. The unmistakable snap of jaw on disintegrating teeth.
I spin around to see two walkers moving between the tress. Daryl has pulled on his pants, more than I can say for myself, and has thrown a shirt over his frame. Crossbow in hand, he picks up our bags and jerks his head in the opposite direction.
"I'd say we have worn out our welcome. The fashion show can wait, we gotta run."
I swallowed, pants in hand. The walkers behind me have gotten too close to ignore. When he takes off in front of me, I follow.
We run until my lungs burn. I'm sure that I will feel the cold the second I stop, but I can't force my body to move for a second more.
"Daryl, wait." I lean back against a tree and try to catch my breath. He stops and walks back over to me, breathing heavy. After a moment, my lungs aching less.
"We can go, but at least let me put on my pants first." I say it with a smile.
"Oh, there's no rush for that." My head snaps as a voice I don't recognize steps out from behind a tree. Daryl aims his crossbow at the man before I realize what's happening.
"Get your pants on." Daryl snaps without looking at me. As he speaks, more men emerge from the trees. Almost in unison, two of the men in front of me yell out, "Claimed!"
I feel something dreadful inside my chest. Claim what, exactly? These people don't look friendly. I hastily pull on my jeans, not yet dry, and shakily walk over to Daryl.
"Easy boys. Looks like we interrupted something here." The leader calls out to the two men in front of me, and a haunting lightbulb flashes over me. Daryl's shirt is open and his hair is disheveled. My pants were off. A quick touch to my hair tells me it's truly wild. Our lungs desperate for air.
"You'll have to excuse my friends here. They aren't as refined as some of us." Daryl doesn't speak, his bow directed at the moving mouth in front of him. My senses are beyond heightened. I imagine I can hear the delicate and impossible growth of the grass beneath my feet, it's so quiet.
Finally I hear Daryl's voice, "We are just passing through."
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name - my name is Joe."
There is a long pause. "What do you want?" Daryl asks.
"Well that depends on what you're selling!" A man calls out from the woods, my eyes snap to him. His smile leaves me cold. Daryl roughly grabs me, pulling me against his chest. He positions his crossbow in front of me, his arms around my shaking form.
"Easy there, we don't have to make this an unfortunate situation." Joe's voice is cool and unperturbed.
"This here your lady?" Joe continues.
"She looks a little young to be called a lady!" Another forest-voice notes, and this time Joe turns his full direction to him.
"Can't you see I'm in the middle of conversation? I'd like to know; what makes you think it's a good idea to interrupt me?" The silence from the chastised fills the space. Joe turns his attention back to Daryl.
"She your lady?" He asks again, his tone makes me feel that the answer to his question matters. Daryl doesn't speak. I wait as long as I can before answering.
"Yes." I sound more sure than I feel. My voice sends the group reeling,
"You let her answer for you too?" Joe asks with criticizing humour.
"She can speak for herself." Daryl answers firmly.
"Is that so? In that case little lady, why don't you tell me how old you are." I think about lying.
"18."
"Oh that's less fun." He smiles and laughs as if that would be something I would find humorous. Daryl's arms tighten around me.
"What's your name, blondie?"
"Beth."
"Well Beth, this is a bit of an unusual situation for us. You see, this here would normally happen a little differently. But, as it is, I have a proposition for you."
"Which is what?"
"My men and I are looking for someone. We could use the man power and weapons of your old man, here." I can hear Daryl huff behind me.
Joe continues, looking directly at Daryl, "Now, I'm not a gambling man, but I know a drifter when I see one. I'm willing to bet on what you are. Let's say you help us find our missing friend, and we part ways. No harm, no foul."
I try to look back at Daryl, but I'm so tight against him I can only see his clenched jaw. I can feel his heart against my back, the swell of his lungs. I know we don't have a choice, but under the weight of the men's eyes my nerves explode.
Daryl slowly lowers his crossbow around me.
"She never leaves my side." The words spark my attention before thinking of the reasons he thinks that it would be necessary to have that rule. Joe throws his hands up in mock defeat.
"Hey, what's yours is yours. We have a code here." He turns to his group, "Looks like you'll have to find your own Lolita for now, boys." There is something very menacing in his tone, and my heart races. It feels like my body is buzzing. His arm around me can surely feel it, but I am too shocked to care.
"We have a place set up south of here. We have a pretty solid lead on the direction our guy went, and we head out tomorrow morning." I can see Daryl nod. Hot fear runs through me. How long will it be before I can talk to him alone? Would we be able to leave? Some of the men glance towards me as they gather their things and I turn to Daryl, who hasn't released me.
My movement seems to awaken him, and he eases his grip. I collect my bag from the ground, getting my shoes on as quickly as humanly possible.
"I'll lead the way." Joe calls out. As he strides away, the men slowly follow suit. Daryl adjusts himself, buttoning his shirt and throwing his leather vest on from his bag.
"I'll just follow you then, Beth." One of the men says from behind us. I don't say anything, and thankfully neither does he. Daryl positions himself behind me, his mouth on my ear.
"I'll be right behind you." I feel something I don't recognize flood through my veins before I begin to walk.
xxx
After an incredibly tense walk, I learned a few things about Joe and his men. Their 'code' so far has translated into yelling out claimed at anything they wanted, and once it was done, it's done. My heart freezes when I think of the men yelling it at me. It seems Joe was content to let Daryl keep me as his, and that meant off limits to everyone else. They definitely didn't agree with the ruling. Side-eyed glances and gruff whispers in my direction kept my back straight.
When we arrive at our destination, I feel exhausted. It's an old auto shop, filled with cars and trucks.
Joe turns his attention to us, "This here truck is claimed. Find a place to call it a night, we leave at dawn." I can hear the echo of 'claimed' ring out around the space, the men hoping into trucks or truck beds.
"You know Beth, you can always bunk with me." A younger man asks with a twisted smile.
"A pretty girl like you should have a nice place to sleep." He motions to his claimed car, and leans against the door.
"Give it the fuck up, Steve." Joe's voice rings out, and thankfully I don't have to answer. It's obvious there are no vehicles left to claim and I turn to Daryl.
He hasn't spoken a word, and his face looks pained.
As everyone socializes with each other or locks themselves in their vehicles, Daryl motions to me to follow him.
He heads to the farthest wall and puts our bags down against it.
"This is best place for you to sleep." He says, pulling off his vest and handing it to me.
"What about you?" I ask. He shakes he head in a clipped movement.
"Don't even think about going anywhere without me." He looks at me and I realize I have another translation to add to my list:
When he doesn't break eye contact. I'm deadly serious.
His face is an impenetrable shield of caution and apprehension.
"I wouldn't." I say simply.
"Not even to go the bathroom, or to check the weather, or to whatever." He adds.
"To check the weather?" I can't keep the laugh out of my voice but he shoots me a look that makes me regret it.
"You know exactly what I mean. I don't care what it is, you need to leave this spot, I leave it with you." I worry about his raised voice but my concern is for nothing. No one seems to have noticed. My eyes are wide.
"I won't leave."
He stares at me, my promise hanging between us.
After a beat he exhales, and motions to the floor, "Get comfortable." Not willing to press the issue, I sit gingerly, arranging the bags into a makeshift pillow. I stretch out against the length of wall, laying down and staring at the ceiling. Daryl sits in front of me, facing the warehouse, crossbow in his lap.
"I can take the first watch if you want."
"No." He replies. Well I guess that's that. It's hard to imagine that it was a few hours ago his lips were against mine in a fury of passion. The thought makes me blush before I realize how silly it is to think about at all.
Silly, yes. Easy to ignore, no. I'm not sure how long it took me notice. Notice the joy he had, however infrequent. That he was happy. That I made him happy. When I did realize, it's all I saw. The hope that seeped into his very being, and his innocent pause for my approval. It stopped me in my tracks every time, and I don't even think he realized it.
A soft ache fills my chest. I wish we were back under the thick canopy of trees, sharing stories beneath the stars. I can't keep the rush of air from leaving me in a sigh.
We aren't under the stars. We are under the watchful and numerous eyes of men who surely mean us no good.
I am scared, but I've been scared for a long time. I've accepted it. If it isn't Joe it would be someone else, or a dead someone else. All I can do is survive the day. Survive the second. I am tired, and the weight of everything falls onto me like an avalanche. I picture Maggie's face, smiling at the farm. Our dad calling out to us for dinner and the smell of fresh bread on the wind.
xxx
I am woken suddenly buy a rough hand on my mouth, being pulled up by my head. My heart races. It's dark, and I can't see anything around me.
"Don't make a sound." It's not Daryl's voice, which is the only thing that matters in that moment.
I am quickly walked over to a door and deftly pushed through it. Where is Daryl? Outside, the light of the moon does little to illuminate. The man around me presses my body up against a wall, hand still hard over my mouth.
"You're the sweetest thing I've seen in a long time." His mouth is near my face when speaks and try to turn my head from him.
His hand hits his belt, moving to unclasp the bind, and my chest seizes. I scream out against his hand, a million thoughts shooting through my mind.
It can't happen like this.
I manage to open my mouth enough to bite the flesh of his hand, which loosens just enough.
"Daryl!" I scream as loud as I can, and when his hand reconnects with my face it is with a resounding slap. My vision blurs.
"You dumb bitch." His pants were undone and as he moves for mine the weight of body disappears.
Through blurred eyes I watch as his body is yanked by the collar of his shirt, the force of the pull sends him on his back.
Daryl stands in his missing outline. My chest explodes with relief.
Daryl straddles the man, hands around his neck. The man punches at Daryl from beneath him, but Daryl's grip is like a vice.
I can picture the consequence of his actions and snap to my feet.
"Daryl, wait." My voice is thick with tears. He doesn't even flinch at my words.
Suddenly the door bursts open, most of Joe's men running out if it. They pounce on Daryl, knocking him off the nearly unconscious man.
I am invisible to them as they begin to throw their fists onto Daryl's outnumbered form.
"Enough!" Joe's voice is commanding as it penetrates the air. The men still.
"Does someone want to tell me what's happening right now?"
Silence follows. I think it's pretty obvious what's going on. I realize I'm crying when I sniff out loud.
"She wanted it." The man on the floor states, rubbing his neck. My head snaps to Daryl, who's face is marred with blood. He doesn't speak.
"Did she?" Joe asks. "Well let's just ask her. Beth, did you want something to do with Mike, here?" He motions to the man in front of me.
"No." My voice is hoarse.
"That seems pretty straightforward, Mike." The silence that follows is unbearable.
"It seems to me, gentlemen, that Mike has forgotten what it means to have a code."
Joe's face is void of emotion, "Remind him."
xxx