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Chapter 2
The rain started about 20 minutes into their trip. Sideways sheets making visibility almost nil and any kind of speed nearly impossible. There was no lightning or thunder, just a cold, pounding rain. The pair drove in silence most of the way until Daryl spoke.
"Where'd ya' learn ta' shoot?" he asked.
Aliya opened her eyes slowly. "Family. My dad was in the army and he loved guns. Taught us to handle them and to shoot from an early age."
"Did good." Daryl nodded.
"Most girls wanted Barbies and pink princess dresses, I wanted G.I. Joe and camo pants." she shrugged. "You?"
"Been huntin' since I was a kid. Merle taught me. Had ta' put food on tha' table sometimes."
"Well, here's to us. If we'd only known how the world was gonna turn out, huh?" Aliya smiled weakly. Daryl continued to drive cautiously, dodging abandoned cars and trying to navigate to the subdivision on Rick's not-so-great directions.
"What kinda' name 's that?" he asked.
"What?"
"All'ya."
"ALL-ee-ya." she said slowly.
"Yeah, that." he nodded.
"Ever read the Dune books?"
"Don't think so."
"See the movie? Sand worms. Folding space. Spice, Freemen, a floating fat man, rain on a desert planet?"
"Maybe. Sounds kinda' familiar."
"It was based on a series of books. Frank Herbert. Aliya was the daughter of Duke Leto and his concubine, Jessica. Jessica was a kind-of a witch with special training and powers who drank the bile from the sandworms while she was pregnant and it caused her daughter to be born prematurely with all of Lady Jessica's powers. Aliya was the baby's name. My mother loved the books, so…"
"So you're a baby witch?"
"Yes, Daryl, I'm a witch, so don't fuck with me or I'll turn you into a newt." she laughed.
"Be more afraid if ya' pointed a gun at me." he grinned.
The rain slacked off a bit and the drops began to hit the windshield with a slight tinkle. Aliya looked at Daryl for confirmation. Freezing rain now. He nodded his head slowly and turned off the county road to a side road with trees on each side. "May be a long day." he said.
"Sleet. Of all days." she sighed and leaned her head back against the window.
Daryl drove past modest houses and small farms, across a concrete bridge over a small river to a fork in the road. He took a left and drove down a fairly new paved road to a large brass gate with two stone towers on either side. There was a large carved and painted sign over the top of the gate that announced "The Gables of East Laurel." The gate was slightly open. Behind the gate they could see a long drive with a lot of expensive landscaping on either side, obviously well manicured prior to the beginning of the apocalypse. The overgrown shrubbery and grass was beginning to sparkle, crystalline and shiny, with a ever-growing coat of the freezing rain.
Daryl inched the truck towards the gate and stopped, putting it in park. Aliya looked through the windshield, the wipers scraping slowly, squeaking against the glass, and then through the passenger window. She picked up the rifle and opened the door quickly, hopping out, and sprinted to the gate, pulling it open further so that Daryl could get the truck through. She heard the walker before she saw it, coming from the woods quickly towards the side of the truck, between her and the door. "Don't think so." she said, raising the weapon and aiming. The walker lurched as she fired and it dropped backwards, it's brain splattering from the bullet and the impact against the hard concrete of the road.
Daryl shut the door of the truck and sat the crossbow down on the seat next to him as Aliya climbed back in, shutting the door quickly. He had to admit that he was a little taken aback. She hadn't screamed, hadn't made any noise, really, other than what she'd said to it. She was so calm about it, quickly dispatching the creature and hopping back into the truck and slamming the door. He'd seen her shoot walkers before, but at a distance and always with a bunch of other people firing. This was just so purposeful. So, matter-of-fact. So…composed.
"Welcome to the neighborhood." she said flatly.
"You ok?" he asked, putting the truck in drive and maneuvering it slowly through the gates and up the drive.
She frowned and huffed a little. "Sure."
They moved up the road slowly, each of them taking out a couple walkers on the side of the roads as they made their way to the cul-de-sac at the end. Daryl was careful to jump out and retrieve his bolts, on guard for more walkers. "Holy shit." Aliya whispered when the houses came into view. "So this is how the other half lives?"
There were about five huge, two-story houses, spaced in the middle of equally huge yards, with multi-car garages. The houses were enormous by any standard. The yards sloped downwards towards the street area and the driveways all wound up to the front or the sides and then around back of the houses. Aliya figured that the houses would have averaged at least $2 to $3 million a piece or more.
"Which one first?" Daryl asked.
"Biggest one. In tha' middle."
They pulled up in the drive and stopped. Aliya opened the door to the truck cautiously, wary of walkers. There were none, so she got out. When her feet hit the concrete drive, the almost slipped out from under her, the sleet continuing to fall, glazing every surface now. "Shit!" she squeaked. "Watch yourself." she warned.
They moved to the front door and it was locked. Daryl lead the pair around back to the garage and slowly entered, weapons drawn. There was no indication of anything in the garage. There were, however, two vehicles-a new Jeep Cherokee and a red Corvette. A third bay was empty, no doubt the family's get-away vehicle. "Nice" Aliya whispered as she ran a hand up the quarter panel. "Not real practical today, though. Convertible's pretty easy pickins' for walkers." she giggled.
They moved cautiously to the door to the house and Daryl opened it slowly. He motioned for Aliya to say behind him as they moved inside. They entered a small room lined with shelves and cabinets. There was a bench along one wall and a rack of shoes along another. Boots. Tennis shoes. Flats. Mens', womans' and childrens'. "Mudroom" Aliya said definitively. She opened one of the large closet doors and found coats hanging.
Daryl and Aliya made their way into the kitchen and looked around, obviously in awe. Floor to ceiling cherry cabinets, granite countertops, marble floor. Every appliance imaginable, every convenience. Aliya whistled and Daryl just shook his head. The moved through the main level of the home, through the dining room, family room, living room, two bathrooms, billiard room with huge slate pool table. Both moved silently, carefully, weapons at the ready, waiting for whatever was around the corner. Fortunately, nothing was there.
They moved downstairs to the lower level, still moving cautiously, covering each other, working like a well-trained team. In the basement they found the laundry room, theatre room with rows of seats and projection television, exercise room, small office/den, a kitchenette and a large pantry. The pantry was stocked with canned and dried foods. The moved upstairs and crept up the main staircase to the bedrooms. There were six bedrooms and four bathrooms.
"Do you believe this place?" Aliya looked at Daryl, setting her rifle and the gym bag on the bar in the kitchen. "People really live like this?"
"Pretty incredible. 'D'you check out tha' fuckin' gym in the basement?"
"Yeah. Too bad there's no electricity, we could catch a movie in that home theatre!" she said, opening cabinet doors and drawers. "Do NOT open that refrigerator!" she said loudly as Daryl's hand moved back down to his side. "You'll regret it for days. We move in, that refrigerator's gotta' go."
"Absolutely." he agreed. He walked over to the sink and opened the tap, letting it run.
"No way. Water? Still?" Aliya shot him a look. Daryl ran his finger back and forth under the water.
"Uh, com'mere."
"What?" she asked.
"Come here." he frowned. Aliya moved cautiously towards Daryl. He grabbed her hand and put it under the running water.
"No way." she said, her eyes darting between her hand and his eyes. "That can't be." They stood there, both their hands in the running water, for a minute or more. "Daryl, that's hot water!"
"Yup." he grinned.
"How? How can that be?"
"Propane? Clear out here, prob'ly propane." He shut off the tap and flicked the water off his hands toward her, still grinning. "You thinking' what I'm thinking'?" he looked at her, smiling slyly.
"Whaaaat?" she said cautiously.
"Hot shower!" he snorted.
"Ok. You first. Master bathroom. Two locks. I want to check out the bedrooms closer anyway. I can watch your back and then we can trade."
"Wash my back?" he grinned.
"Watch. Watch your back." she rolled her eyes. "Jesus." she said, moving to the back door and locking it. "I'll double-check the doors, you go get started."
"Why? We ain't in no hurry. Ain't goin' no where tonight."
"What?"
"Look outside. Still freezing' rain. Ain't drivin' on that ice."
"No. We can't stay."
"Why not? No walkers. Plenty of food…'n hot water." he shrugged. "You scared?"
"No." she shook her head. "Should I be?"
"Maybe I'm tha' one what should be scared."
"Oh please." she giggled. "Go take your damn shower, Dixon."
Daryl picked up his crossbow and swaggered out of the kitchen. "Well, alright then, maybe I just will."
XXXXX
Daryl wrapped the towel around him and stepped out of the shower, warm, clean, and comfortable for the first time in a long time. He rummaged in the bathroom cabinet and found a package of new toothbrushes. Clean-shaven, shampoo-ed, and minty fresh. Damn, Dixon, he thought. He opened the door to the bedroom and was surprised to find a clean pair of boxers, ok they were plaid, but they were clean, a flannel shirt, pair of Levi's and a pair of socks. All laid, neatly folded, on the bed. He smiled a little, telling himself not to get use to this.
Daryl dressed, the clothes fitting him loosely, and wandered into the hallway to find Aliya rummaging through a linen closet. "Jesus." she said when she saw him. "You look almost human." she said, throwing a tube of deodorant in his direction. " I debated about going ahead and cutting off the sleeves." she giggled, turning back to the closet.
"Cute." he said. "Feels weird."
"Looks weird." she said without turning back to him. "You leave me any hot water?" Aliya had to turn back to the closet to keep from staring. He looked…good. Really good.
"No. May want ta' wait a while."
"Just as well. I need to find something to change in to anyway. Shouldn't be hard. These people have more stuff than I've ever seen. It's obscene."
"Tomorrow we'll check out tha' other houses 'fore we leave. Pro'lly stuff there we can use."
"Sounds like a plan. You think any of the other houses are laid out better for what we need?" Aliya asked.
"Doubtful, but we'll see."
"Ok. Sounds good to me. Is it still sleeting?"
"Yeah. We may not be goin' anywhere tomorrow, neither." Daryl shook his head.
"Well, we have plenty to check out, plenty of food."
"Yeah. Not a problem."
"Daryl, you think this is all too good to be true?"
"Kinda'. But we're about due for somethin' good."
"Well, now, that's true. Very true." she agreed.
XXXXX
Daryl watched the front and back sides of the house, seeing no signs of walkers or anything amiss. He had shoved furniture up against the dead-bolted doors and pulled all the blinds and shades to hide the light from the candles and oil lamps he'd found and lit.
Aliya had been soaking in the tub for an hour. She'd found bath salts and scrubs and shampoo and conditioner and towels, goodness, big, clean, fluffy bath towels. She wrapped herself in one and climbed out of the tub. She wrapped her hair in another and changed into the clothes she'd found. Aliya proceeded to sit on the edge of the tub and slather lotion on every inch of her she could reach. It felt so indescribably good to be clean, truly, finally clean. Skin. Hair. Nails. Clothes. No smell of dirt…or death. Just clean.
She toweled her hair and ran a comb through it, but all she managed to do was separate it into long curly strands. She'd always hated her hair, it had a mind of it's own and it took too damn long to dry. Plus, she was always finding long red hairs in everything. Aliya looked in the mirror. Her face was gaunt, drawn, dark circles under her eyes. She was thin, pale, nothing like her former self, she thought. Inside or out. Nothing about anything was the same as it used to be.
XXXXX
Aliya walked down the stairs cautiously, one at a time, listening for Daryl. She couldn't hear anything but the tinkling of the ice against the windows. She stopped halfway down, almost in a panic. She finally heard his boots quietly shuffling in the kitchen. She hit the bottom step as he rounded the corner with a couple bottles of beer in his hand. Daryl looked up and nearly dropped the bottles.
"Holy shit." he said, blinking. He almost didn't recognize her. He realized that he'd never seen her with her hair down, clean clothes, or dressed…nice. Here she was in a calf-length skirt, long baggy sweater, boots. He looked at her face closely. She was wearing makeup. Not a lot, just her eyes. He'd never noticed her eyes before.
"What?" she said after an uncomfortable silence.
"Didn't recognize ya'." he said, shifting in place.
"Shut it. I think the lady of the house was a lot taller than me." she said, tugging nervously at the hem of the cable-knit sweater that hit her almost at the knees. "Lori's gonna have a hell of a wardrobe." she smiled. "'s that beer?" she said, motioning to his hand.
"Yeah. They're warm."
"Shit, we could set 'em outside and ice 'em down." she grinned. "Is the cookstove gas?"
"Yeah."
"Let me get this straight. Hot bath, clean clothes, beer, and a hot meal?"
"Yup."
"Where's the part where I wake up back in that tiny tent and realize this is all a dream?" she said, taking one of the bottles of beer from Daryl's now-outstretched hand.