Between the Thorns

Chapter 31

Dwight leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his hand over the side of his face that was still intact. The letter Sherry left him was still in his hand, already rumped by the amount of times he ran his hands over it. He kept reading it. Over and over again. But there was no hidden clue in her words as to where she went. She was just gone.

Dwight knew there was a possibility that he would be blamed for her disappearance. But he still wasn't expecting it when his door was suddenly kicked in. Two men surged in, knocking him to the floor where they started kicking him. He tried to crumple Sherry's note up into his hand. But he was too late. The letter was snatched from his grasp. He grunted as he took a hard hit to his ribcage. His arms were up, protecting what was left of his face.

"That's enough."

The voice was low and raspy. And in his current predicament, Dwight only recognized it as not Negan's and probably not Simon's either. Which he took as a positive. Until he was dragged to his feet and placed face to face with the man he spent the better part of a week torturing nearly to death. Looks like the shoe is on the other foot this time, Dwight lamented.

"I don't know where she is," Dwight insisted. He wasn't lying. But he knew his honesty wasn't going to save him. Daryl had Sherry's crumpled letter in his hands. The letter would be as good as a conviction in Negan's eyes.

"Ya might not know where she is," Daryl drawled. "...but ya know where ta start lookin'."

Dwight tried his best to keep his expression neutral. But he could tell from the look on Daryl's face that he had already given himself away. Dwight did know where to start looking. But that didn't mean he was going to provide that information to Daryl.

Dwight's head slammed against the wall behind him. Spots swam in front of his eyes as the air woofed out of his lungs. When he was able to focus his eyes again, all Dwight could see was the blade of Daryl's knife.

"Just give me a reason motherfucker," Daryl hissed. He shoved the knife closer, stopping just short of blinding Dwight in the one eye that he could still see clearly out of. "Do ya have any fuckin' idea what's gonna happen to her out there alone?"

"Do you have any idea what's going to happen to her, in here?," Dwight spit back. But even as he said the words, the horrid limitless possibilities of what might happen to Sherry outside the Sanctuary on her own began to flash through his mind. She might be torn to pieces by the dead. Bitten. She might starve or die of exposure. She might be caught by another group. One that didn't have rules. Men that would want to do a lot worse to her than Negan did. She might die. Dwight would never see her again. He thought seeing her with another man was the worst thing that could ever happen. But the thought of losing her completely to the beyond was another level of heartbreak. At least here, there was a chance he might be able to make things right. To get her back.

"We used to live near here," Dwight said. Daryl didn't lower his knife. But he did move it back slightly. The man was breathing hard. And Dwight realized how badly Daryl wanted to hurt him. He wondered what was holding him back. There was no way finding Sherry was the real reason for his restraint. "Due west of here. A little yellow house on Golfview Court," Dwight said.

"How do I know yer not lyin'?," Daryl asked.

"There's pictures of us hanging on the walls inside. Of me and Sherry."

Daryl leaned forward into his personal space one more time. Finally, Daryl nodded his head and backed slightly away, ordering the other men to find a hole to put him in. Twenty minutes later, Daryl was standing in the kitchen of what used to be Dwight's house. He snagged a beer from the six pack Dwight left on the kitchen table, twisting the top off before he took a long swig. Sherry had no vehicle. No supplies. No water. She couldn't have gone far.

Daryl poked around the house, looking for anything that might give him an idea of where Sherry went. Like Dwight said, there were pictures of them on the walls. There were a few wedding photos. And they must have taken a vacation to Disney World at some point. Because in another one of the pictures, they were both wearing Mickey Mouse ears and posing with someone wearing a large character costume. Seeing the pictures unnerved Daryl a little. They were all real people back before the outbreak turned them into something else. Something harder. Daryl could barely remember the person he used to be. He pulled the Disney World picture off the wall and dropped it on the ground, smashing it with his boot before he moved through the rest of the house.

After his search of the house didn't yield anything other than proof that Dwight wasn't lying about living there before the outbreak, Daryl stepped out into the back yard. The fence was mostly intact on one side. It would take more effort to go over or around it than it would take to go the other way. So Daryl headed in that direction, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of the woman he was searching for. There was a light rain that morning, which would make it harder to track her. But not impossible. Just when he was sure he discovered evidence that Sherry did in fact head the way he guessed she did, a feminine scream broke the silence of the abandoned neighborhood. Daryl ran in the direction of the sound, leaping over a small plastic seesaw in the next yard over. He kept moving, sure of the general direction the sound came from, but not from which exact house. Most of them looked like they were locked up pretty tight. But when he saw the backdoor of the next one hanging open, he knew he found the right place. He heard another scream from inside, though this time it sounded like it was being muffled by something.

Daryl moved as quickly as he could without alerting whoever was inside to his presence. He could hear the scuffling sound of a struggle inside and he moved towards the noise. Flattening himself against the wall, Daryl peeked around the corner as he lifted his bow. Sherry was inside. But there were two men with her. From the looks of them, they'd been on the road a while. One of them was pinning Sherry's arms and head down, muffling her screams with her shirt yanked up over her face. The other man was busy tearing the rest of her clothes off. Daryl swung around the corner, shooting the man that was on top of her through his eye. He slammed his crossbow into the other man's face, knocking him back onto the floor with the force of his blow. Then Daryl stomped down on his head a few times, just enough to make sure he would stay dead. When he turned around, Sherry had scrambled back a little and was looking up at him, using her arms to cover her bare breasts.

"Y'alright?," Daryl asked. Sherry looked at the two dead men, unsure of how to answer Daryl's question. "Are you hurt?," he asked. She looked down at herself and finally shook her head. She was bruised and scratched up. But she didn't sustain any life threatening injuries. "Better go back so the doctor can take a look at ya just in case," Daryl suggested.

"Go back where?," Sherry asked, scooting further away from him. "Did Negan send you here? To bring me back?" Sherry yanked what was left of her shirt down over her head. "Fuck you Daryl! I'm not going back there!" Daryl snorted.

"It's better than here," he said, gesturing to the two dead rapists near his feet.

"No," Sherry argued. "It's the same as here. A pig in a dress is still a pig!"

Daryl didn't respond to her angry words. Instead, he turned and disappeared down the hallway into the house. And for a moment, Sherry thought he was going to do as she asked and just leave her there. But when he reappeared, Daryl tossed a men's sweatshirt at her and told her to put it on. She caught the garment, staring at it in distaste.

"Yer goin' back," Daryl told her. "So get dressed." Sherry cursed as she yanked the sweatshirt down over her head.

"Why are you doing this?," she asked, using a nearby chair to help herself onto her feet. Sherry pulled her pants back up over her hips as she regarded Daryl with a questioning glance. He wasn't one of Negan's stooges. So if he was doing the man's bidding, he must have a reason. "What's he giving you?," she asked, "...for bringing me back." Daryl hesitated a moment before he answered her.

"I wanna take Jean and the girls to West Outpost with me," Daryl admitted. Sherry's mouth dropped open. She knew Daryl and Jean were sleeping together. But she didn't suspect that any more than that was going on. Like Jean, Sherry just assumed Daryl was biding his time until he had the opportunity to take off and go back to his people.

"Holy shit!," Sherry said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're in love with her!"