The forest seemed shallow in the blue and grey hues of the early morning. A fresh powdery layer of snow coated the crust of the old muddy stuff that lay beneath it. Daryl took a moment to breathe in the thin mountain air and he pulled his gun out of his coat pocket, leaving Judith's in the other where he had tucked it earlier. The woods were silent other than the sound of his own feet crunching in the snow. He rounded the corner of the cabin and headed towards the back of it, where he assumed Rob and Katrina kept their barn and animals. All night he had been unable to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over him since dinner. Nervously, he checked over his shoulder towards the small window at the back of the cabin, not even large enough for Judith to climb through. If Susan had come inside it hadn't been through there, and there was no other way except the front door.
The barn was settled towards the back of the yard. It was barely much bigger than the house and had clearly been put together by Rob or someone else who didn't have much experience swinging a hammer. The clapboard siding had been set far enough apart that Daryl could see the side of some furry white animal brushing against it. A deep bleat told him it was a goat and he looked around nervously in case the sound alerted the family who was still hopefully sleeping inside.
The barn had been padlocked closed and the metal froze his fingers when he reached up to grab it. He gave it a hard tug but it held fast. Sighing, he released the lock and walked around the structure until he came to a gap in the wood that was particularly wide. He peered inside at the goats and chickens that could move freely throughout the space, but they seemed to have hunkered down for the night on the pine branch floor.
Daryl couldn't see the entire space but he was confident that Susan wasn't in there. The sound of scratching caught his attention and he looked towards the far wall of the barn. Something large was on the outside of the barn, clawing at the walls. Its blurry shape moved across the gaps, blocking the dewy light from filtering inside. Daryl took a step back and looked around. He spotted a wooden dovetail ladder leaning against the fence that marked the end of the property that the family had claimed for themselves. The ladder had been used recently, Daryl noted, his eyes flicking over the highly trafficked, stamped down path in the snow.
Slowly, he made his way over to the ladder. He tested its strength under one foot, and then pulled himself up when he was sure it was sturdy. He climbed quickly, though it was just a short distance to the slightly angled thatched roof. He was worried he'd fall straight through, but the pine branches were firm underneath his palms and knees when he climbed onto it. Crawling, he made his way towards the back of the building, and then moved into a crouched position when he made it to the ledge.
A half-a-dozen Walkers had become trapped at the back of the barn. Daryl watched them stagger around in the small area, bumping into one another and the waist high fence. Two of them had become aware of the animals on the other side of the wall and were prying at the boards, their teeth gnashing as they growled. Daryl squinted at the gate suspiciously. It looked like it opened in the way, and there was a strange latch on it that locked it in place unless pushed from the outside, like a zip-tie.
He wondered why Katrina and Rob would be trapping Walkers like animals behind their barn. He crawled backwards until his feet hit the ladder and he descended it quickly. He was heading back inside when another sound caught his attention. It was similar to the one that the Walkers were making on the barn, but more like nails on metal. He looked towards the small tool shed a few feet away and tilted his head.
"Kid?" He asked, walking over to the shed. Using his knuckles, Daryl rapped softly on the rusted sheet metal siding. The sound sent whatever was in the barn into a frenzy of scratching and growling, making Daryl step backwards. He moved around to the other side of the shed, his index finger resting on the trigger of his gun.
He found the door, this time secured with a simple latch threaded through a loop. Reaching forward he flicked the latch with his pinky, and then stepped back his gun raised. He waited expectantly, his breath hanging in the air before him like a ghost, the forest silent around him. Using his foot, he opened the door, his eyes barely able to penetrate the thick darkness inside the shed. Something moved and his finger twitched on the trigger but he didn't pull it.
Heavy raspy breaths came from the darkness and he took another step back as a figure appeared. It took another step out onto the frozen ground outside, its hands at its side, fingers twisted around each other like gnarled tree branches.
Daryl thought it was a Walker, until he saw her eyes, still crystal clear. He could hear her heart pounding from the distance and her breathing was more than a reflex, she was moving oxygen in and out of her rapidly rising and falling chest. But the girl was barely recognizable as her once child-like features had morphed into something almost demonic. Her lips curled over her crooked teeth as she snapped at him, growling, her head twisted to an impossible angle as she looked at him over her ridged nose, pulled back to accentuate flared nostrils. The girl took another step towards him, her boots crunching in the snow and then she ran at him snarling, a thin line of drool sliding down her chin.
Daryl's hands closed over her shoulders and he dropped his gun, not prepared to kill the child. She fought him like a wild animal and he stared into her wild eyes as he tackled her to the ground. He landed heavily on top of her and he used his limbs to hold her's in place. She kicked and scratched, bucking her body to throw him, but he held her tightly, calmly examining her blown pupils.
She seemed to tire not long after and she went slack against the ground, her face lulling to the side, eyes opened, too large in her pale face. He would have assumed she was dead if it weren't for the slight rise and fall of her chest and the slight whistling sound that she made each time she inhaled.
Daryl felt his own adrenaline begin to leave his body and he loosened his grip on her. As he did so she turned her face back towards him, the movement slow and rigid. The manic expression had disappeared and her pupils had shrunken back to a normal size as she gazed up at him. Tears welled up in her eyes and she began to tremble.
Daryl got to his feet and looked down at the girl, lying on the ground. He backed away from her, leaving her to curl up into a ball in the snow, sobbing into her hands. He moved quickly and ran around to the front of the cabin. He threw the door open, allowing it to smash against the wall, rattling the entire cabin.
Judith shot out of a dead sleep and sat up. "Daryl," she whimpered, reaching up to rub her eyes. "Why you did that?"
She'd barely finished the question before the bedroom door swung open and Rob flew into the room, a hunting knife in hand. "What the hell?" The other man asked, seeing Daryl standing in the doorway.
"Saw Susan," Daryl said, taking a step towards the other man. "Think we'll be on our way now," he sidestepped so that he was closer to being between the other man and Judith, who had pulled her knees up to her chest, her wide eyes glassy and filled with tears.
"Why we're going?" She asked, scrubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hands.
Rob held out his hands, the knife balancing between his thumb and palm. "We can talk about this. I can explain," he shook his head slightly.
"You wanna talk?" Daryl cocked his head dangerously. "Why don't you 'splain why yer kid went all exorcist on my ass," he took a step towards the other man. "And why you got Walkers all held up behind yer barn like some kind of a' animal pen."
"You don't understand," Rob shrugged. "That first year was horrible. We didn't know what to do. The animals weren't breeding, we didn't know anything about farming," he swung his arm out to gesture to the space around them. "I did not know what to do. My family was starving and those damn Savages were eating everything!"
Daryl paused as he tried to understand what the other man was telling him. Finally it clicked and he stared at the other man with a combination of disgust and disbelief. "You fed Walkers to your family?"
"Like I said, you don't know what it was like… what it's still like," Rob deflated, dropping his hands to his sides. "They were starving, and I didn't know what to do… before I knew it, they started…" he shook his head. "Acting like animals… It happens to Katrina and me too, but we're better at controlling it. But the kids…."
Judith whimpered behind him and he felt rage surge through him. He leapt across the room, closing his fingers around Rob's throat as he drove the man backwards until they connected with the wall. "Did you feed my girl Walker meat?" He demanded, squeezing Rob's throat tightly until he could feel the man's pulse racing underneath his finger tips. He could feel hands grasping at him from behind, grabbing at his arms and clothes. He swung his fist backwards, swiping away whoever was holding onto him. They collided with the table and a chair clattered to the floor in his periphery. He ignored them and stared into Rob's eyes as they swelled out of their sockets and his face turned red. "Did. You. Feed. My. Girl. Walker. Meat." His voice was so low that he barely recognized it.
Rob shook his head rapidly and Daryl let his fingers slacken their hold. He took a step back and the other man collapsed forward, gasping for air, his hands crossed over his throat. Daryl looked to Katrina who lay on her side on the floor, her feet tangled up in the overturned chair, her arms wrapped around her swollen belly.
A flurry of movement caught his attention but he reacted too slowly to stop the blade from slicing deeply across his side. He managed to stop the second attack by connecting his fist with Garret's face, successfully knocking the knife from his hand. The dazed boy scrambled for it, but Daryl was quicker. Without processing the situation he drove the blade into the smooth skin of Garret's throat and let go of the handle.
The boy's eyes widened with shock and pulled it out the knife then let it clatter to floor. He waivered for a couple of second on his feet, his hands closed over to the wound on his throat, unable to contain the jet of blood that shot between his fingers. A sickening choking sound gurgled from his throat before he crumpled to the floor.
Katrina's cries filled the cabin and Daryl started shoving his and Judith's things into their bags. Rob dragged his son's lifeless body towards him and clutched the boy in his arms as he cried.
Judith had pulled her boots on, though she still only wore the large t-shirt. She picked up her backpack and grabbed her freshly washed doll from beside the fireplace, her eyes fixed on the pregnant woman who lay in a sobbing heap on the floor. Carefully, the little girl stepped over her and picked up the crackers and jars of fruit from the shelf in the small kitchen area. She shoved them into her bag and stepped over Katrina again then joined Daryl at the door.
Daryl grabbed Judith's hand and pulled her away from the cabin. He kicked the gate with enough force to break the latch and they fled into the surrounding woods.
XXXXX
They struggled through the woods with partially packed bags that hung open, flopping in the wind. One of Daryl's arms held onto a wad of blankets while the other was bent, his hand applying pressure to the deep gauge in his side where Garret had stabbed him. The wound had been steadily seeping blood that had soaked through his sleeve and was dripping onto the snow, leaving a trail of tiny red pearls behind him.
Judith remained a few steps back, teeth chattering as the cold air froze her bare legs, the cotton of her nightgown too thin to hold any heat or offer any protection from the winter air. She stooped down every few feet to sink her numb red hands into the snow so that she could bury the blood drops in case there were any Walkers in the area to pick up their trail. "Daryl?" She asked, kicking snow over another drop of blood. "When could we stop?"
"Look like a good place to you?" He asked in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he fought back a wave of nausea. He'd had worse injuries in his life, like the time he'd rolled an ATV, but he'd been younger then. The malnutrition and exhaustion had taken its toll on his body, making him weak and stupid apparently. He felt anger: towards Rob and Katrina for being so ignorant, Garret for attacking him and forcing his hand, and towards himself for trusting them in the first place. His anger was further fueled by the wound in his side that he didn't have time to stop and treat; they needed to get as far away from the little cabin as possible.
Judith frowned, shaking her head. "Is you hurted bad?" She asked, lifting her legs high to clear the snow that almost reached the top of her boots this close to the mountain summit.
"M'fine," Daryl muttered shortly, turning around to keep walking, his eyes scanning the woods around him. They settled on a something in the distance, mostly buried in the snow. Slowly, he picked his way towards it, keeping his chin tucked into his chest. When they reached the black rubber protrusion he swiped the snow off it, wincing at the sharp pain in his side.
"Wassat?" Judith asked, stopping beside him. She peered up at him curiously, her nose and cheeks beet-red.
"For loggin," he answered, inspecting the deep treads on the large tire. He recognized the equipment from his time working up north in the mountains when he was in his early twenties. Merle had met a man in prison who had said there was plenty of work for men who didn't have much else going for them. The three of them had gone up together. It had been a three-month alcohol and party binge for his brother, but Daryl had relished every day of working outdoors until the company closed down for the season. "Gotta be a loggin' community 'round here somewhere."
"Wass loggin'?" Judith asked, her teeth chattering loudly, making it hard for her to speak.
Daryl ignored the question that he didn't have the energy to answer and brushed the snow on the windshield into a small pile. He looked over at Judith and motioned for her to take the blankets from him, annoyed when she fumbled with them because she already had her doll in her hands. "Gimme that," Daryl growled, his side gushing more heavily now that he wasn't applying pressure to it. "Damn thing," he tossed the doll onto the ground at her feet. "Hold 'em up," he demanded, piling the blankets into her arms.
Judith's arms extended around the jumbled mass, barely long enough to hold them up off the ground. She waivered, trying to keep her balance with the large load and she arched her back to find equilibrium. "Beanie-," she began, her wide eyes fixed on the ground.
Daryl had already gone back to collecting snow from the top of the machinery. He packed it tightly into a ball and lifted his shirt, exposing the bloody gash that extended from the side of his stomach and swung upwards in an arc to his side, just under his ribs. He winced as he pressed the snowball to the wound, hoping that the cold would help to slow the bleeding or at least numb the pain.
"Let's go," he said, pushing away from the truck, staggering slightly as his head swam. He took a few unsteady steps, blinking heavily as he tried to clear his vision.
Over his shoulder, Judith glanced down at her doll, splayed across the snow. Still balancing the blankets she tried to crouch down and pick it up but she couldn't get a firm enough hold on it.
"I said let's go! Now, y'hear?" Daryl barked stomping further and further away.
Slowly, Judith rose again, her eyes staring into the black dots that Daryl had drawn onto the doll's face with a marker that night at Hershel's farm. Pouting, she looked up at Daryl's retreating back and then down at the doll again, with its tiny smile and apple dress, freshly washed in the tub with at Rob and Katrina's. Thin tears welled up in her eyes then finally broke free, leaving a cold trail over her cheeks. "G'night, Beanie," she whispered, sniffling as she left her behind.
He'd been right that they hadn't been far from a small logging community. By the time the sun had climbed overhead they came to a small clearing in the dense woods. The trailers appeared first, rusted and weathered. Surrounding them in a semi-circle were several log cabins that had been ravaged and torn apart, probably by Walkers blowing through the community. Daryl crouched down beside a tree and planted his bloody hand against its bark. He used it to hold his weight and he looked behind him for Judith. She was still a few feet away, trembling with tears blurring her eyes as she tripped over part of the blanket that had fallen from the large bundle in her arms.
"Gotta keep up," he whispered, putting his hand out. She made her way over to him and stood beside him. In his crouched position he was at eye-level with her. "Christ," he grunted, inspecting her hair that had come loose from her braid, her long brown strands sticking to her tear-stained cheeks. Her hands and lips had gone blue and he realized that she barely had any clothes on. "C'mere," he motioned for her to come closer.
She hesitated, watching him closely, her eyes staring into his unblinkingly. After a moment she took the final steps and allowed him to fold her into a hug. Daryl winced as a sharp pain shot across his side but he didn't release the little girl who had wrapped her arms around him. Groaning, he used his legs to push himself to his feet, bracing his body against the tree. Judith wrapped her legs around him, burying her face in his neck as she cried softly, her entire body trembling against him, so frail and tiny. He'd forgotten how tiny she was.
Ignoring his throbbing side, he picked up one of the blankets that had fallen to the ground and wrapped it around her. Pushing off the tree he stumbled towards the most intact building in the camp, keeping an eye out for any people, dead or otherwise. They collided against the stair railing, Daryl panting for breath, sweat collecting on his upper lip as he struggled to carry Judith. The door stuck at first when he tried to open it, but with another shove he broke the icy seal and pushed it inwards to reveal an office space. The trailer was freezing but he figured it would do for now. Judith was reluctant to let go of him when he tried to put her on the couch and he had to pry her hands away.
He crouched down beside her and reached out to take her face in his hands. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused and Daryl felt his heart pick up speed as he recognized that void as the same one that he had seen in Susan's gaze. "Judith," he tapped her cheek, fear flooding his heart as it occurred to him that Rob could have been lying about the goat stew. He gripped her face harder, this time giving it a firm shake.
"Beanie go'ed 'way," she whimpered, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Daryl's tense muscles relaxed when she spoke, her eyes flicking up to meet his.
"Where'd she go?" He asked, swiping tears off her cheek, leaving a smear of blood in his thumb's wake. He cringed at the crimson staining her soft smooth skin.
Judith's eyes stayed fixed on his as a tears clung to her bottom lashes. She shook her head, dislodging the droplets, and buried her face in her blanket.
"It's just a doll," he told her, reaching out to hug her again. "It don't matter."
The little girl nodded, her downturned face hardening as she stared straight ahead, accepted his words. "'kay, Daryl."
Daryl nodded and got to his feet. He looked around the small trailer, his open hand coming to press against his tender side. The room seemed to be intact for the most part, as though the camp's Foreman had simply packed up and left one day. Daryl noted a map on the far wall and made a mental note to take it with them when they moved on. He stepped around the closest desk and made his way over to the counters and cabinets on the opposite wall. They contained mostly paper, random office junk, and stationary. The first aid kit had been dumped open on the floor and he sucked his teeth at the sight of the ravaged supplies. Peering inside the cabinet before him, his eyes settled on a small clear bottle with a red thumb-cap. He picked it up and read the bottle, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Judith," he turned back to the little girl. "Need yer help."
The couch was straight out of the 1980's and was covered in some kind of cord that scratched his cheek when he laid down on it. They'd closed the blinds and curtains, partially to conserve heat, but also to stay hidden from any Walkers that may stumble through. Judith had lit several candles around the room so they would be able to see in the absence of natural light.
The little girl stood beside him, the Super Glue bottle held in her small hands, waiting patiently for him to instruct her.
"I'm gonna close the skin," he explained, checking in with her for comprehension. When she nodded, he continued. "And then you squeeze that there bottle real tight n' pour it over the cut, 'kay?"
Judith nodded again, her braid falling over her shoulder.
Gritting his teeth he placed his palms on either side of the gash and squeezed it together. The small valley had filled with a river of deep red blood that oozed out when it closed. Judith quickly wiped the blood away with her nightgown and looked up at Daryl, nervously biting down on her lower lip. "Hurry," he encouraged her, sweat beading across his forehead as he strained to remain conscious through the blinding pain.
Judith quick turned the bottle upside down and squeezed the clear gelled liquid out over the wound, first in a line and then back again to create a seal. "One, two, three, four," she looked up at him again, hesitating.
"Five," he gasped.
"Five, six, seven…" she frowned thoughtfully and paused. "Three, four, five," she finished in a rush, watching his trembling hands. "S'done?" She asked, standing up on her tip-toes, her hands resting on the couch cushion beside him as she leaned in closer to see. Her nose wrinkled at the chemical smell.
Daryl released the skin and let his hands fall back, his biceps twitching with exertion. The skin pulled uncomfortably, but it stayed together. Judith placed the half empty bottle on the carpet at her feet and crawled onto the couch with him. He wrapped her up into a tight hug and held her against him.
"You make me think stupid, Lil' Ass Kicker," he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he adjusted the thick wool blanket over them.
Judith lifted her face to look up at him. "Why's you thinkin' stupid?"
"I'm gonna get'ch yer Beanie for ya," he promised, closing his eyes.
Judith's breaths were warm against his chest as she settled against him, her cold hands winding around the bloodied fabric of his shirt. "Why?" The question was soft and had an innocent lilt to it that made his heart tighten as though she'd wrapped her baby hands around it and squeezed.
"This world ain't got much kindness in it, and it's gonna hurt'cha over n' over again. Most the time I won't be able to do nothin' to stop it," Daryl told her. "But if I can- 'Cause I… 'cause I love ya, Jude," he whispered, his eyes fixed on the water-stained ceiling tiles.
"Wass that means?" Judith asked, her voice heavy with sleep.
"Means I'm fond o' ya, that's all," his voice was gruff as he shifted, trying to get comfortable on the old couch. "Now shut yer trap n' sleep."
Judith's breaths had already evened out and he lay in stillness, listening to the sounds of the wind whistling through the trees and water dripping from somewhere in the ceiling.