Chapter Twenty Two: Burn
Burn: be or cause to be damaged, injured, or spoiled by heat or fire.
Day 62
"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it." Daryl said with narrowed eyes as the group stood gathered in a circle.
"That what you'd want?" Shane asked tersely, "'f'it were you?"
"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." Daryl shot back.
"I hate to say it, I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right." Dale, the group's voice of reason, admitted.
"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick combatted.
"I'm not suggesting that—"
"He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"
"The line's pretty clear." Daryl interjected, "Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be."
"What if we can get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure." Rick argued.
"I heard that too." Shane said flatly, "Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."
Daisy sighed to herself, scratching her arm awkwardly as the group fought over Jim's fate, none of it was sitting right with her. Rick was arguing for the CDC, Shane was arguing for Fort Benning. Daisy was almost entirely sure that neither would be up and running, and if they were, they wouldn't exactly want to help their shamble of a group. She tuned back in, brow furrowing above blankly staring eyes.
"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that." Rick said determinedly, Daisy agreed with him, having seen the carnage left at the hospital where she had found him. "The CDC's our best choice and Jim's only chance." There was a lull as they all considered Rick's point. Daisy narrowed her eyes at Daryl who had been glancing back at Jim where he sat behind him.
"You go lookin' for aspirin, do what you need to do." Daryl said abruptly, promptly turning and tightening his hands around his pickaxe, swiftly moving towards the despondent Jim with his weapon raised. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem."
"Hey, hey!" Rick shouted as he moved forward hurriedly, gun raised and cocked in a matter of seconds, pointed at the back of Daryl's head. Daryl froze in place, pickaxe remaining raised in the air threateningly. "We don't kill the living."
Shane moved to stand protectively in front of Jim, shotgun ready in hand. Daisy remained back, staring wide-eyed at how quickly their group dynamic had turned to shit, as it often seemed to do. Daryl turned his head so that Rick's pistol was pointed directly between his eyes, he lowered his pickaxe.
"That's funny, comin' from a man who just put a gun to my head." Daryl said angrily.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What's happenin' here?" A rasping voice suddenly interjected from behind Daisy, she turned to see Merle glaring at Rick who still pointed a gun at his brother's head.
"Put it down." Shane said to Daryl, disregarding Merle. Daryl huffed and shoved the pickaxe into the dirt, stalking towards Merle.
"Th'fuck's that about?" Merle asked incredulously, Daryl just scoffed and stalked past him, moving towards his camp. "You know, Curly?" He glared down at Daisy, whose head jerked back in indignation at the accusation in his eyes.
"Your brother tried to kill a man." She said succinctly, eyes widening to emphasise the seriousness of what had happened. Merle gave a wheezing laugh and slapped Daisy on the shoulder, causing her to stumble back a few steps.
"Daryl ain't likely to kill any man." Merle shook his head in amusement, "What'd he do?"
"He tried to kill Jim…who was bitten by a walker." Daisy admitted, Merle's eyes narrowed once more and he glared over at where Rick and Shane were leading Jim away.
"Well, shit. I'll go get my knife and kill th'fucker right now." Daisy slapped Merle's shoulder with comparative lightness.
"No!" Daisy protested strongly, shaking her head. "You may not kill any living person, Merle." She said incredulously, continuing in a mutter to herself, "Jesus, you people are insane."
Daisy left Merle protesting behind her as she went back to her tent, the one she shared with Andrea and Amy. Her heart stuttered in her chest when she remembered that one of her tent-mates was lying amongst the rest of their dead, but she carried on with a sigh.
The tent flap opened with a flourish and Daisy promptly collapsed onto her sleeping bag, one arm flinging out to drag her backpack to her chest. She cuddled the hard-lumped pack closely and gripped her fingers into the fabric tight, eyes fluttering shut and the creases on her forehead smoothed over. Daisy laid in this way for what felt like an hour, but was more likely a few minutes, in some desperate search of reprieve from what life had become.
"Daisy." She heard a soft voice call from the entrance of the tent, Daisy opened one eye to see Amy standing there, eyes reddened and hair a mess from crying.
"Amy!" Daisy sat up and waved Amy in, Lori stood worriedly beside her.
"You gonna be okay, darlin'?" Lori asked as Amy settled herself into her sleeping bag, and set small package made from red tissue paper on her pillow beside her head. Amy nodded shortly and Lori left after a long, concerned glance. After a few silent minutes of Daisy staring at Amy, taking in her tense shoulders, pinched facial expression and nervous fingers which fluttered over the package, she went to say something:
"Am—"
"Can I…be alone, please?" Amy said abruptly, finishing with hopelessly large, tear-filled eyes staring up at her. Daisy furrowed her brow and nodded her head in understanding, she rummaged around in her pack and unearthed a black cap, plain save for the white Rebel Alliance insignia embroidered on the front. She held her hand over her forehead and felt the heat, sunburn was no joke. Daisy didn't want to be the first to die of skin cancer after the apocalypse, especially with worse threats than the sun ambling around: namely, walkers.
Daisy shuffled over to the front of the tent and stepped out, pausing once only to ensure that Amy would be fine. At Amy's affirmative, Daisy zipped the tent shut and slapped her cap on her head, smushing her curls down.
She glanced around the camp and her eyes fell on Daryl, who was standing beside a beat-up truck, the bed was filled with sheet-covered bodies. Daisy walked towards him, eyes narrowed on the pile of bodies, one hand tugging at a loose curl with nervous fingers.
"That's terrifying." She said to Daryl bluntly, nodding her head at the pile. He narrowed his eyes at her and nodded minutely, crossing his arms. Daisy furrowed her brow at him, "You still mad?"
"Psh, shoulda let me kill him…gonna be a lot more bodies'n this real soon." Daryl spat on the ground by the truck's back tire, Daisy wrinkled her nose up at this but said nothing.
"No killing people without their consent." She said firmly, frankly amazed that this was a point that needed to be outright stated.
"Hmm." Daryl nodded, Daisy was concerned to see a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
"And no coercing consent!" Daisy said incredulously, Daryl scoffed and his lips tugged up into a reluctant smile. She shook her head in both dismay and amusement, before deciding to change the subject, "So…where're they goin'?"
"Up on the hill…to be buried." Daryl sneered in disapproval, shaking his head.
"Huh." Daisy huffed in confusion, "That seems a little unwise, to bury people who may be infected…could infect the environment. Why not burn them?"
"Exactly." Daryl widened his eyes at her, before digging one hand into his pocket and finding a cigarette, sticking it between his teeth, "Ain't like people have never been cremated before." Daisy hummed in agreement, swiftly snatching the cigarette out of his mouth with nimble fingers, scoffing at his protest.
"There are kids around here! Not to mention, me. Second-hand smoke kills, Dixon." Daisy laughed at his angry expression, one hand had been holding his lighter aloft to light the cigarette.
"You're an asshole." He muttered, then flicked his lighter closed. Behind him, T-Dog and Morales lifted another body into the bed of the truck.
"That's all of 'em." T-Dog closed the tailgate of the truck, "Wanna take 'em up?" Daryl held his hand out for the keys and T-Dog threw them.
Daryl opened the creaking door of the pickup and sat in the driver's seat, shoving the keys into the ignition.
"Comin'?" He snapped at Daisy, who perked up and bounded over to the passenger's side. She slid onto the seat next to him and winced at the heat of the old leather, then promptly buckled her seat belt. Beside her, Daryl scoffed at this causing Daisy to glare at him.
"Safety is sexy." Daisy maintained, causing Daryl to chuckle mockingly, "Hey, we'll see who's laughing when you go through the windshield and I stay safely in my seat." She said haughtily, snapping the seatbelt against her chest.
Daryl proceeded to drive steadily out of the camp and towards the hill where the graves were being dug, giving her an amused side-eye. She rolled her eyes, conceding that perhaps driving at such a slow speed did not require wearing a seat belt, but she certainly wasn't going to be taking any chances.
On the way there, after much coaxing, Daisy had managed to get Daryl to elaborate on a story Merle had told her about the day before, which she upheld was complete and utter bullshit.
"I just don't think a chicken would cooperate!" She argued, waving one hand emphatically.
"Pshh, doesn't matter what you think…either way, it happened." Daryl shook his head, focusing his attention on the rear-view mirror as he backed up the slight incline of the hill. Daisy scoffed and narrowed her eyes, she decided to leave it at that.
The brakes squealed as they came to a stop and Daryl shut off the engine, him and Daisy exited the truck.
"Still think it's a mistake, not burning these bodies." Daryl called over to Rick and Shane, who were digging the last few graves. "It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"
Daisy shut the door and backed away from the truck, managing to bump into Glenn. The rest of the group were following them up the hill.
"Shit, sorry." She muttered quietly, cringing when she noticed Sophia right behind them. Daisy rolled her eyes at herself and hoped that she hadn't heard, though the tiny smirk on Sophia's face promised otherwise. "Don't tell your Mom I said that." Daisy whispered down to Sophia, who looked towards the person at her side, her mom who had heard what Daisy said. "I mean…sorry." She smiled wryly at Carol, who returned it with a soft smile.
Daisy followed the two with her nose wrinkled in quiet amusement, she came to a stop with the rest.
"There are no rules here." She heard Rick say to a scowling Daryl.
"Well, that's a problem." Lori said, emotion clouding her voice. "We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn, and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do."
A silence overtook the group, Rick and Shane continued to dig the graves. Daisy sidled up to Daryl who continued to revel in his stoicism.
"Why bring so many children to a future mass grave site?" She wondered aloud, narrowing her eyes at the gathering. She counted at least five. Beside her, Daryl choked a surprised laugh, catching her eyes and nodding thoughtfully. "Need any help?" She said louder, to Rick. He stopped digging and stood still for a moment, wiping the sweat off his brow with a sigh. Rick looked pointedly at her, and she nodded in reluctant understanding.
"Yeah…noodle arms." Daisy muttered quietly to herself, glaring at the aforementioned arms, which wouldn't be the most proficient at digging graves. She tilted her hat back and tugged at a curl thoughtfully.
"Star Wars? Nice." Daisy glanced over at Shane who nodded towards her hat. Her fingers tapped against the Rebel Alliance symbol and she smiled at him in wonder.
"Yes! Thank you…for noticing." She said with incredulity, he gave her a quick smile and got back to work. Daisy huffed a surprised laugh to herself, not entirely expecting such an apparent tool to be a nerd capable of understand decidedly low-key references.