Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. I'm just not cool enough to have come up with something that brilliant.
Lia's wristwatch beeped her awake. Groggy from her usual troubled sleep, she pressed the button to silence the irritating alarm and rolled over on her mattress to discover she wasn't alone. Sally lay curled up in a little ball, hardly taking up any room on Lia's makeshift bed. Lia smiled down at the slumbering toddler and reached down to stroke the girl's wispy dark hair. This was not an unusual occurrence; Lia had long grown adjusted to waking with Sally beside her. At first, she'd thought it was nightmares that drove the child to her, but now she suspected it was more her seeking comfort than easing fears. Lia was at the point now where she wondered who was comforting whom.
She tickled the delicate shell of Sally's tiny ear. The toddler squirmed, face scrunching.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," Lia crooned.
The little girl sighed and gave into the inevitable. She rolled onto her back and gazed up at the woman with her solemn dark eyes. Lia grinned and bent down to kiss the child's forehead. "C'mon, kiddo. Let's get ready for breakfast."
She scooped the toddler into her arms and rose from her mattress, carrying the girl out into the hall and down two doors to the room Sally (in theory) shared with Aidan and Nana Shino. Lia wasn't surprised to find the room already empty; Nana claimed she'd always been an early riser. Lia deposited her burden on the narrow table that served as the changing station. There Sally placidly lay on her back while the woman stripped her of her pajamas and proceeded to change her diaper. Within minutes the child was clean and dressed in her favorite yellow shirt and blue overalls with the ducky on the bib. Her downy hair was tied up in a simple topknot, what Lia jokingly called the Pebbles look.
Lia set the girl down and took her hand. "'Kay, sweetie. Let's go downstairs."
It was a somewhat slow process, since Sally's short legs could only negotiate the steps one at a time, but Lia was patient. They arrived at the ground floor without mishap and headed for the kitchen, passing through the lobby on the way. The building's lobby had been converted into the main gathering place and recreational area. Most of the original furniture remained, the tables littered with board games and coloring books, toys and building blocks clustered on the floor along with a variety of throw pillows and salvaged seat cushions. The majority of the building's residents were already there, eating breakfast. Dozens of boys and girls, none older than thirteen and, apart from Sally and Aidan, none below the age of five.
Inside the old employee break room that was now their kitchen, Nana Shino stood over the counter where a portable double-burner range sat, stirring a large pot of oatmeal. The range was powered by a car battery Lia salvaged from one of the countless abandoned vehicles found throughout the city. It took a lot of trial and error - mostly error - before she figured out how to hook the battery to the range. It was a hassle to recharge, involving a great deal of pedaling on a bike Lia converted to operate a small dynamo, but everybody figured hot meals were worth the effort, and this way they didn't have to worry about scrounging up cans of Sterno or some other type of fuel.
"Morning, you two." Nana spooned dollops of oatmeal into two bowls and handed them to Lia. She then reached down to pick up Sally, carrying her over to the small table where a salvaged highchair waited. Lia, meanwhile, went to the other end of the counter where the condiments were. She added evaporated milk and honey to Sally's oatmeal, maple syrup and dried fruit to her own. Then she grabbed a couple of spoons and carried their breakfasts to the table.
Nana finished tying a bib around Sally's neck and returned to the steaming pot. Lia took a seat beside the waiting toddler. She alternated between spooning oatmeal into her own mouth and feeding Sally.
Seated across from them was Marco, giving Aidan his bottle, having already eaten his own breakfast. Lia noticed the shadows under the boy's eyes and knew he'd finished his two-hour night shift on the roof not too long ago.
"Those people still there when you came down?" she asked.
Marco nodded. "Didn't see anybody movin' around. Guess they're still asleep."
Lia frowned. Those strangers seemed to be pushing their luck where "gone by morning" was concerned. She really hoped they left soon. She didn't want a confrontation with them outside the safety of the building.
Nana doled out the last of the oatmeal and went to join them at the table with a mug of instant coffee. "I can take over with Aidan," she offered, "Why don't you go get some shuteye?"
Marco shook his head. "Nah. I'm good."
The two women shared a smile. Before Aidan came along, the twelve-year-old Marco had been a problem, bullying the younger kids, picking fights. Having the baby around somehow gentled him. He no longer walked around with a perpetual scowl on his face.
Casey and Cadence, the ten-year-old identical twins, suddenly rushed through the door.
"There's a man comin'!" said Cadence.
"One of th' strangers!" Casey added.
"Lisa saw 'im from the roof."
"She didn't see any gun."
Lia sighed. So much for a leisurely breakfast. She pushed her mostly finished bowl away and rose from her seat. "I'll go talk to him. Tell Lisa and whoever else is on lookout to have their bows ready."
"He's probably coming to ask for more time," Nana suggested calmly.
"I sure hope that's all," Lia muttered. She went upstairs to get her bow, then stepped out the front door to confront their less-than-welcome visitor. Some of the kids peered through the barred windows, their expressions varying from curious to wary. Lia stood just outside the door, bow at her side in a loose grip, her meaning apparent: I'm not inclined to use this, but I will if I have to.
The stranger paused a respectful distance from her, well within range of the rooftop lookouts' bows. Lia couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of him. He was an older man with a scruffy white beard concealing most of his lower face, dressed in a floppy hat, faded Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and sneakers. Lia would bet anything he was the driver of that old Winnebago. Hell of a thing, spending your golden years touring the country only to get caught up in the zombie apocalypse.
"Morning," the old man called out cheerfully.
"Hello," Lia responded, "Your deputy friend tell you he agreed you'd all be gone this morning?"
"Yeah, that's what I was hoping to talk to you about. I'm Dale, by the way."
"Lia," she said, "And there's nothing to talk about. I was willing to let you all stay out here for the night, no longer than that."
"That's just the thing, Lia. We really can't leave just yet. Rick and the others didn't say anything when they met with you yesterday, but y'see, some of us are a bit under the weather."
Lia tensed. "What d'you mean? How sick are they?"
"It's nothin' serious," Dale hastened to assure her, hands raised in a placating gesture, "After spending days on the road, traveling nonstop, with little food and even less sleep. It's little wonder some of us are feverish. It'll pass soon enough, but we need more time to rest and recuperate. Just one more day's all we're asking."
Lia bit her lip, lightly tapped her bow against her thigh as she mulled it over. "I should say no. I need to think of my kids' safety first."
"I understand." Dale regarded her calmly. Even after all the hell he must have experienced, he still bore himself with an almost serene dignity. He reminded her of Nana in that way.
Lia's lips pulled back in a grimace of frustration. "Alright. One more day. But tomorrow morning you all leave, sick or not. One day's all you get."
The old man smiled. "Thank you."
"Wait here a minute and I'll see if we have some aspirin we can spare."
"I'd be much obliged." Dale tipped his hat to her, and Lia found herself holding back a grin at his oddly civilized behavior. A few minutes later she tossed him a bottle of aspirin and sent him on his way. Watching him head back to the waiting vehicles, she wondered if she would come to regret her decision.
Lori felt a surge of relief on seeing Dale step into the RV, unharmed and smiling.
"She said yes. Even threw in some aspirin." He handed over the bottle. Lori smiled in gratitude and popped the cap, shaking two white pills into her hand. She passed the bottle over to Carol, who tended to Andrea lying in one of the RV's narrow beds. Rick occupied the opposite bed, sweat-soaked and skin flushed. He and Andrea were the worst off among those who were sick. Glenn and T-Dog were seated at the small dining table, their fevers milder but still bad enough to leave them tired and light-headed. Oddly enough, the two children, Carl and Sophia, were fine. It might have been due to the fact that the adults had done their best to shelter them from the worst of the past few days' deprivations. The majority of what little food they'd scavenged in their travels went to the kids. Sometimes the adults went without altogether just so Carl and Sophia would have something in their bellies. Even Daryl, though he'd grumbled about it.
Carl crouched at his father's bedside, watching his mother give Rick the pills and help him drink from a cup of lukewarm water. "Is Daddy gonna be okay?"
"He'll be fine," Lori tried to sound reassuring.
Rick managed a weak smile. "It's just a little bug, Carl. Nothin' a little rest can't take care of." He was the sickest of them, having pushed himself the hardest.
Dale sat on the edge of Andrea's bed and patted the younger woman's hand. Andrea smiled tiredly. It was as much from depression over the loss of her sister as it was the illness that put her in that bed. But over the last few days Dale had patiently worked at drawing her out of her shell. She was getting better, no longer suicidal, though still far from alright.
The door opened and Shane entered, rifle slung over his shoulder. "They give the okay?"
The others nodded.
"That's good." He sighed, took off his cap and wiped away the sweat on the back of his arm. Not fever-sweat, thankfully. "Looks like there's a storm brewin' some ways out, headin' right for us."
"Where's Daryl?" asked Dale, realizing they were one man short.
T-Dog smirked. "Redneck went 'n' holed up in his truck. Said he didn't wanna be stuck in some plague house."
Shane snorted. "Might reconsider once that storm hits."
"Does it look that bad?" Lori asked.
"Sure as hell don't look good."
As the day progressed, the mass of angry gray-black clouds rolled in, obliterating the sun. Earlier, children could be seen playing around the old office building. Now they were tucked away indoors, safe from the weather. Even though they knew it was a bad idea, most of the able-bodied people in the Winnebago pressed their faces to the windows, staring out at the gray world. Lightning suddenly flashed practically above their heads. The instant thunderclap sounded like an explosion. Everyone gasped or yelped. The kids let out frightened shrieks and huddled against their mothers. The flashes and roars happened over and over while rain battered the RV's roof with the sound of a million falling ball bearings. The temperature dropped noticeably. People began to shiver, especially the sick. They scrounged up as many blankets as they could, knowing it wasn't enough. Worried looks were exchanged between Dale, Carol, Lori, and Shane. The Winnebago was not the place for sick people to recover, especially in these conditions. They needed shelter and warmth, but there was nowhere they could go. That sturdy building with its thick walls might as well have been a million miles away.
Meanwhile, Daryl lay curled up in the cab of his old pickup, sweating from fever even as his body trembled from the cold. He knew it was stupid of him to have left the RV, but he couldn't take another minute of watching Lori, Dale, and Carol fuss over everybody else while at the same time treating Daryl with a mild concern that bordered on indifference. They didn't care that he was sick. He could drop dead and not one of them would shed a tear. Only reason they kept him around was because he knew how to pull his own weight, how to kill walkers, how to hunt and track better than any of them. They needed him, but they sure as hell didn't like him.
And why should he give a shit? They'd left his brother to die on some roof. Didn't matter that Merle might've brought it on himself. Daryl didn't kid himself about his brother. Hell, there were times when he wanted to kill the bastard himself. But Merle was the only family he had, the only one who remotely gave a damn about him. Now he was alone. Daryl hated all those assholes he traveled with, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He felt tethered to them, desperate for some kind of acceptance while at the same time wanting nothing more than to turn his back on all of them. But where else could he go?
A violent tremor passed through him. He felt cold, but his skin burned. He was sicker than he'd let on. Pride had made him hide it from the others. He wondered, idly, if they'd feel any sort of guilt on finding him dead the next day. Or would they just shrug, oh well, and carry on like he'd never been there?
A choked sound escaped his throat. He told himself it was a cough.
Lia pulled the curtain aside and stared out at the storm-wracked vehicles, imagining the refugees huddled inside them, sick and frightened.
She felt a light touch on her shoulder, but didn't turn. "It's getting colder out there."
"They have shelter. That big RV," Nana said.
Lia snorted. "Sure. Thin metal walls. Maybe if they were all healthy it'd be enough."
A series of lightning flashes flickered like a giant strobe.
"If Bobby were out there," she murmured, "He'd have pneumonia by morning."
"What do you want to do?" Nana asked, already knowing the answer.
Lia swallowed. "I wanna do the decent thing and let them in. But if I do that... What if they're contagious, Nana? What if they were bitten? Or what if they were lying the whole time and are just waiting for their chance to take everything we have?"
Nana didn't say anything. She knew the younger woman already had all the responses running through her head. They might be contagious. They might be lying. But they might also be telling the truth and were in dire need of whatever help they could get. There was no way to know for sure, except to act.
Lia gritted her teeth. "I hate this."
Nana squeezed the younger woman's shoulder. She knew there was no right answer in this situation. There was only the choice between hard survival and perilous compassion. Whatever decision Lia made, the old woman would support her.
There was a sudden lull in the storm's fury. It wouldn't last long; Lia could make out the next wave already making its way towards them. She closed her eyes. "Tell Jessie, Lisa, and Enrique to get the extra sleeping bags and bring 'em out here to the lobby."
Nana smiled. "Alright."
Lia opened her eyes and headed for the door. She didn't bother to take her bow; if her decision proved wrong, one bow wouldn't make a difference. She jogged the distance to the strangers' vehicles, her hiking boots squelching in mud and puddles. When she reached the Winnebago she knocked on the door. It opened to reveal a startled Dale and a handful of others peering over his shoulders.
"Are all your people in there?" Lia asked.
Dale slowly nodded. "Yeah. Er, no! Daryl's out in his pickup."
"'Kay. I'll go get him. You go ahead and drive your RV out to the building and help your sick people inside."
The older man's features softened. "Thank you."
"Don't make me regret this." Lia turned and slogged towards the battered pickup. Behind her, she heard the Winnebago's engine growl to life and fade into the distance. When she reached the truck she peered through the driver's side window to discover the crossbow-man sitting with his knees drawn up, shoulders hunched and head down. She knocked on the window and the man's head jerked up. His face was pale, eyes bloodshot. His short hair clung damply to his forehead. Lia was surprised; she hadn't expected him to be one of the sick. Why would he hide out in the truck if he were this bad off? Then again, he hadn't struck her as the kind of guy who got on well with others.
Lia pulled open the door. "You okay to walk, or you want me to drive you?"
Daryl frowned. "The hell're you talkin' about?"
"This storm isn't over. Might even get worse before the day's out. I decided it might be best for you and your friends to spend it indoors."
"They ain't my friends," he muttered.
Lia sighed. "Whatever. Do you wanna stay out here or do you wanna go inside?"
Daryl shivered. "I'll drive over."
"You're in no shape to drive-"
"I said I'll do it!" he snapped, "Nobody touches this truck but me, got it?"
Lia met his stubborn glare for a beat. Thunder rumbled a distant warning. "Fine," she said, shutting the door and moving around to the passenger side. Daryl threw her a dirty look as she got in, but didn't say a word. Lia fastened her seat belt as he turned the ignition. Not surprisingly, the pickup was noisy, rattling as it lurched forward. They managed to complete their short trip without mishap. Daryl parked his truck alongside the RV and killed the engine.
"I'll help you get to the door," Lia offered.
Daryl eased himself out of the truck. "Don't need no help."
She had to admit, the sheer willpower he exercised in getting to the door without stumbling was impressive, though he did have to pause once or twice from apparent dizziness. They found everyone else already inside, the sick lying on the sleeping bags laid out for them. Lia's kids kept their distance, staring at the newcomers in wary curiosity. The strangers were the first living people many of the youngsters had seen in some time.
"I know you'd all like to rest," Lia said to their guests, "but there's something we need to get outta the way first. We need to check you all for bites."
A woman whose graying hair was cropped to about half an inch protested in a worried voice, "None of us are bitten."
Nana Shino patiently responded, "You understand we can't just take your word for it. I'm sorry, but this must be done."
"We'll check the sick ones first," Lia said, "Get it out of the way so they can get back to recovering."
Uncomfortable glances passed between the strangers. Rick struggled to sit up, his wife hurrying to support him. "I'll go first."
Lia pointed to a pair of doors marked MEN and WOMEN. "We'll do it in the restrooms."
One by one the sick were escorted to the restrooms where either Nana or Lia examined them for possible walker infection. Once they were returned to their makeshift beds, the healthy individuals took their turns, including the two children. Daryl stubbornly held back until he was the only one left who hadn't been checked. He sat against a wall apart from his travel companions, forearms resting on his knees. His sickness was more obvious now. He looked ready to collapse at any moment.
"You're the only one left," Lia said, "We let you hang back, but you have to do this now."
He didn't respond. His bleary eyes stared at the carpeted floor between his boots. Lia reached down to take his arm and he jerked away with surprising force for someone as bad off as him. "Don't fuckin' touch me!"
Shane approached, his expression stern. "Daryl, why don't you try cooperatin' for once? The rest of us went through with it."
"I ain't lettin' some Indian half-breed 'n' dried up ol' slant-eye paw at me."
Lia scoffed. "Good grief, you're a piece of work."
Nana spoke in a more reasonable, though somewhat wry, tone, "We promise to restrain ourselves, but we have to know for sure you're not bringing the walker disease with you. I'm certain you'd do the same in our place."
"No, I'd kick yer old ass out on th' street's what I'd do."
Shane took a step, his tensed shoulders revealing his intent to wrestle the redneck into submission. Lia put a hand out, "Wait." She sighed, crouched down to Daryl's eye level. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. If you cooperate I'll give you back your knife."
Daryl's eyes narrowed. "I wanna see it first."
Lia turned to one of the kids hovering in the background. "Enrique, would you please get the hunting knife from my room?"
The boy nodded and trotted for the stairs, returning moments later carrying the knife by its handle, blade pointing down. He passed it to Lia, who held it just out of Daryl's reach. "You'll get it after you let me examine you."
Scowling, Daryl struggled to his feet, ignoring all offers of help from the others. He managed to walk to the men's room without stumbling.
"I can guarantee he's gonna be a hassle," Shane said, "Want me t' go in there with you? Keep 'im in line?"
Lia shook her head. "I can handle him." She walked into the restroom without hesitation.
Daryl stood near the urinals, eying her suspiciously as she stood opposite him with her arms crossed, knife clutched loosely in her hand.
"Strip."
Daryl chewed the inside of his lip as he started to remove his clothes. Every move was laden with resentment and distrust. He soon stood before her in nothing but his briefs.
Lia gestured with the blade. "Underwear too."
"Think a geek bit me on the ass or sumthin'?"
"I'm not about to take any chances."
Daryl's scowl deepened. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down his hips, kicking them aside with the rest of his clothes. If nudity embarrassed him, he hid it well. His hard stare was challenging.
Lia gave him the once over, her eyes inevitably alighting on his exposed crotch. Thankfully, having already examined Glenn and Shane earlier, she'd gotten over her discomfort at being alone in a room with a naked man. She found herself comparing his body to the other two men she'd seen. Daryl didn't have Glenn's youthful wiriness, nor did he appear to hit the gym regularly like Shane must have before the world went to hell. He carried a slight paunch, which no doubt had been larger when regular meals were a given, but he also possessed the strong muscles of an avid outdoorsman.
"Gettin' yerself an eyeful?"
"Would you be flattered if I was?" Lia found herself retorting.
Daryl snorted. "Whites ain't meant to mix with other races."
Lia smirked. "Don't worry. I'm not the least bit interested in 'mixing' with you." She raised one hand and traced a circle in the air with her finger. "Lift your arms and turn around slowly."
Daryl did so, giving her a good view of the tattoos on the underside of his right arm and the back of his left shoulder. Once he'd gone a full 360 degrees, he let his arms drop. "Satisfied?"
Lia set the knife down on the edge of one of the sinks. "Go ahead and get dressed." She turned and exited the restroom without a backward glance.