The married pair walk into the sanctuary, feeling the tension almost instantly as they quickly make their way to the front of the room and slide into the pew next to Beth. Glen spares a quick glance at the group in the row adjacent, then to the front where everyone's attention is focused.
Daryl is on edge and standing far to close to Abraham, who has his chest puffed out like he is looking for a fight. Seems this meeting has already invoked a heated discussion between the solider and their very own resident redneck.
Daryl seeks clarification. "So let me get this straight Rick. You really just s'pect us to let Sargent Slaughter and his girl lead us on some wild goose chase? Want us to follow some mullet halfway across the country and we don't get to know what he knows." Daryl gestures the front row to speak up and share their thoughts, but he doesn't give them a chance, and instead continues his rant. "How we know he ain't just sayin' he has a cure so we don't up and leave his sorry ass? Can't even hold a gun proper. Liable to shoot one of our own before he ever manages a walker. God damn! I mean, what does he contribute? Sure as hell don't hunt, or help on runs."
Watching the scene play out, Glen wonders if something else might be causing Daryl's irate demeanor . He's known the hunter since the beginning of this thing, and although Daryl has flown off the handle many times in the past, it usually takes more than a group discussion about where to go next.
Before the thought can fully take root, and as if she's reading his mind, Maggie leans into Glen's ear and whispers. "Yesterday Eugene was talking Beth up about what fibers were best used in sleeping bags. Apparently he spent a substantial amount of that time staring at Beth's ass while she reorganized her sleeping spot."
"Apparently?"
"I've been trying to tell you. It was Sasha that saw it. Daryl did too."
"What happened?"
"Sasha says she watched as Daryl approached the two. He told Eugene that he needed to lift his eyes off the ground or he was liable to fall right into the gaping jaws of a walker. Said the best thing to do is keep away from distractions. Then he gestured to Rosita and Abraham and told Eugene he needed to stay with Mom and Dad and let the grownups handle things."
"He didn't?" Glen responds a bit louder than he should.
"Yup," Maggie nods, then quickly glances over Glen's shoulder at her sister. Glen turns around and for the first time notices the concerned expression on Beth's face as she focus' her attention on the two men arguing.
Daryl is practically vibrating now. "...Guy's 'bout as useful as a pogo stick in quicksand!"
Abraham clears his throat as he steps forward to defend the man, and save his mission. "I assure you that D.C. was more than a little interested in this man's ideas." He gives Eugene a solid but friendly smack on the back, causing the scientist to let out a puff of air. "I'm more than willing to vouch for him."
With Abraham by his side, Eugene mumbles something about imbreds under his breath, instantly provoking the hunter into taking a threatening step forward. "Care to repeat that mullet?" Eugene lowers his head to the floor, refusing to look Daryl in the eye, and so Daryl continues. "Won't speak for anyone else here, but if you want my help, my protection, I say spill it!
"How many times do I have to say it. It's Classified!"
Daryl takes another step closer to Eugene. His eyes no more than slits as he silently challenges the man. Without hesitation Abraham steps in front of Eugene as though his life depends on it, and Eugene seems content to have the redhead fight his battles, while Rick readies himself to pull Daryl back hard if need be.
"Glen, do something," Beth pleads.
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"I don't know, something."
"I'm sure Daryl won't do anything stupid."
Beth's not so sure. Never once did she encourage the attentions of the scientist in any way, but she knew what Eugene was doing, and she was foolish to let it go on as long as it did without saying something. It shames her to admit, but a part of her wanted Daryl to see. She just wanted to wake him up. Maybe it was silly of her to think they could go back to the way things were as though nothing had changed, when so clearly everything had. It was killing her not to know what she was to him now. She just needed a sign. Unfortunately for Eugene, she got it.
Daryl side-steps Abraham and positions himself so that he is standing toe to toe with the scientist. He then cocks his head to the side, and when he finally speaks his voice is significantly deeper. The words come out slow and with accurate precision. "You know...what...Mullet?" He deliberately pokes Eugene in the chest for emphases. "Fuck classified! In case you haven't noticed, the world ended."
Silence fills the sanctuary as everyone waits on pins and needles to see what will happen next. Beth nervously bites her lower lip and fixes her eyes upon the hunter, silently willing him to look her way. He does, and is immediately taken aback for he sees there. Etched on every line of her delicate features is concern and worry for of all things...him. Daryl's heart sinks, and he abruptly he backs away from the scientist, opting instead to take a seat next to Beth in the pew. His legs cross ankle to knee and he wears bravado and confidence like a shield. A shield Beth passes straight through. She places an open palm on Daryl's shoulder and the calming nature of her soft touch washes over him, smoothing the hard lines on his face and filling him with warmth. Physical contact has always been something of an issue for Daryl, yet with Beth it seems as natural as breathing. He feels the tight muscles in his shoulders loosen as the tension melts away, and he can't the smile that touches at the corners of his mouth. "Pheff, look Rick. It's your call man. I'm just pointing out what I see."
Rick turns to group. "Does anyone else have thoughts."
"I do," Glen pipes up.
"Go ahead."
"Rick, I get that we aren't going to be able to stay here much longer. There's nothing around us but rural townships and we've all but picked them clean. I think we all knew this place was never going to be a home. It's too open, what with the walkers roaming just beyond the gates. It's not safe. But saying that, I don't relish another winter on the road. Especially when the direction we'd be heading is north.
Regardless of what everyone decides though, we need to start planning for winter now. There's only the one car and it won't hold everyone, so I say we use the remaining fuel in the tank and jerry cans to collect what we need. Summers ending. Our people are desperately going need warmer clothes, jackets, ect. We're going to need food."
"And medicine," Bob cuts in.
"Yes, and a bunch of stuff we haven't even thought of yet, but if we do decide on D.C. I really want to know why I'm risking the safety of my family. I agree with Daryl. I need to know what the cure is."
"It's settled then. There will be no more talk on Washington until all information is shared."
Abraham suddenly places an arm on Eugene's shoulder, and the two approach Rick while Rosita quietly takes a seat next to Maggie in the pew.
"Fine," Abraham grumbles. "Here it is. Rosita and I were part of a larger group just outside of Houston, mostly military types. Our camp got over run with geeks, or walkers as you call them. They came out of nowhere, hundreds of them against forty men and women. They just kept coming. When it was done, Rosita and myself were the only ones left unscathed. A handful remained alive, but died shortly there after. We put them down before they turned.
Hit the road after that, staying in constant contact with D.C. on the portable C.B. radio. Military channels had not changed codes since the shit first hit the fan. It was on the road that we first crossed paths with Mr. Porter here. It seems Eugene had gotten himself into a bit of a situation."
Abraham gives the scientist an encouraging nod, and Eugene cuts in. "I had been existing by myself for a quite some time. In a tragic set of all to familiar circumstances my family unit was wiped out by this thing. I came across a small river and proceeded to pull out my test tubes so as to take bacterial samples of the water.
"Why?" Beth asks curiously.
"It may be the end of the world, but eccolii is still a nasty business little lady."
"Oh."
"Pheff!" Apocalyptic situation and the man runs water samples when he should be watchin' his back, Daryl thinks to himself.
Eugene ignores the hunter's huff and carries on. "Before I could complete my task a walker snuck up and got me from behind."
"What do you mean by Got You," questions Sasha nervously.
"If you will allow me to continue I will get on with things." Eugene takes a deep breath, and sighs. "I stumbled into the river, but somehow managed to turn quick enough to push the corpse away from my person. Then I ran, and as I did two more of the undead picked up my trail. They must have heard the splashes. Thinking I could lose them I jumped into an old irrigation trench and made my way along it until I came to a small tunnel that was crumbling from decay and neglect. I wedged myself in behind some concrete that had given way, and prayed that the roof would not fall in upon my person. That is when Abraham and Rosita showed up. They fired the shots that ended them."
"Can we get to the part about the cure," Bob asks impatiently.
"I'll take it from here," Rosita says softly. "We found an old farmhouse to spend the night. Ab and I cleared it quickly and the three of us settled in. It was then that Eugene started to remove his damp hoodie, and I first saw the bite. Abraham and I argued back and forth, discussing the situation at length, but in the end we decided to stay and agreed to sit back and wait for the inevitable to happen. We waited for Eugene to turn."
Rosita gently urges Eugene forward and he proceeds to lift his shirt over his head so that the group can see. The wound on his shoulder is long healed over, but there are indents in the skin that are puckered where a piece of flesh is noticeably missing, and a divit in the shape of a half-moon is left in its place. The scar remains red with bumps and groves that run through the center. All evidence of a wound that could not properly be sutured and so left to heal on its own.
"We have all witnessed first hand the speed at which the change can occur, never seen it take longer than a couple of days. Abraham and I watched in shifts for over a week, two weeks, a month, nothing happened. Eugene never got the fever." Rosita pauses a beat, then continues on, "Eugene didn't come up with a cure. Eugene is the cure. It's in his blood."
Gasps of shock and surprise run through the group, while Daryl stays silent. He chew on the inside of his cheek and there is no mistaking the blatant mistrust in his eyes. Rick is the first to find his voice, looking to Abraham for an answer "How do you know that even if he carries immunities in his blood, Washington can create a cure?
"Stayed in full contact with them over the weeks after Porter got bit. That is until we lost frequency. Porter's knowledge combined with the city's own researchers have come up with a pretty precise plan. Eugene can explain the rest."
The next hour is spent immersed in scientific speak and medical terminology revolving around virus' and infectious disease. Bob mentions the posiblity that Eugene is an asymptomatic carrier and not the salvation he claims himself to be. He uses Typhoid Mary as an example, telling the group how she spread typhoid to fifty-three people, never getting sick with it herself.
Eugene counters this with talk of genetic's, pathogens, chromosomes and how basic biology has enabled life to continue all the way down through history. He speaks of Cholera which ran like wild-fire through the west in the late eighteen hundreds, and the bubonic plague that wiped out a third of Europe.
In the end though, it is Beth's simple statement that begins to sway the group. "I think we should go."
Daryl turns his gaze to the woman at his side. "You do?"
"Yah, I do. I've never seen someone get bit and survive before. Have you?" Beth's blue eyes search his, and the shear determination Daryl sees in her magnificent orbs catches him off-guard and leaves him speechless. When Daryl doesn't disagree, Beth smiles with renewed confidence and addresses the group at large. "It will give us something to hope for. A reason to go on. Maybe Eugene isn't the cure, but maybe he is? It wouldn't kill us to have a little faith. Daddy always said, we all have jobs to do. Why can't getting Eugene to Washington be ours?"
The very mention of Beth's father causes Daryl to consider her words all the more. Hershel Greene was a man who at the end of the world saved a little boy from a gunshot, then took strangers into his home. He was a stubborn old coot who got his leg hacked of with an ax in a dirty old prison, and less than a year later walked into a cell block full of the sick and dying armoured only with a simple concept of hope and the belief that he could make a difference. He was a man who even with a sword to his throat believed that nobody was too far gone.
In Beth's eyes swim that same stubborn nature and uncompromising faith. Daryl might not understand how it can still live within her after everything she's been through, but never the less he is happy that it does.
"She's right. We should go."
"You step outside, you risk your life.
You take a drink of water, you risk your life.
Now a days you breath, and you risk your life.
Every moment now, you don't have a choice.
The only thing you choose, is what you're risking it for." - Hershel Greene