Ch. 11
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They left the shack in the middle of the night anyway. Nearly fifteen walkers came out of the woods and started growling around, and they were still too drunk to do much of anything but panic.
While him and Merle worked out an escape plan, Beth poured out three jars of moonshine then set a match to it. With the walkers, him, and Merle distracted by the blaze on the front porch, Beth knocked out a window and threw a lid at them to get their attention. Even being drunk, she managed to save their asses, and she got to burn the son of a bitch down like she wanted to.
When they were a good distance away and the sun had started to rise, they stopped to rest.
"Little pyro," Merle said as he settled against the base of a tree.
Beth turned pink and shook her head. "I got us out, didn't I?"
"That ya did, princess," he agreed and closed his eyes. "Could sure use some more sleep, though."
"I hear that," Daryl said and rubbed a hand over his face. "We need to find a secure place to stay for a few days."
"Do we even know where we are?" Beth asked and leaned her head against him.
He was worried that once the booze wore off, she would be really fucking mad at his ass for all he had said and done the day before, but he wouldn't question the affection until that time came.
"'Bout near Miller's Creek, I reckon," Merle said.
Daryl snorted. "That's south of here. Ya couldn't tell your ass from a hole in the ground."
"Fuck off," Merle muttered. "I'm tired. Ain't got my bearin's."
Daryl snorted. "Porter's a little north of here. They ain't got much, but they got that bait and huntin' shack. Maybe it ain't been hit up yet. It's got that flat roof, too. We could sleep up there and finally all get some solid rest."
"If it's even there," Merle said and straightened his legs out in front of him.
"There's no guarantees anythin' is left anywhere," Beth said quietly.
"Only one way to find out," Daryl grunted as he stood up. "Got another coupla hours ahead of us."
Slowly, Beth and Merle stood up and began following behind Daryl. He hoped for all their sakes that the shop would be in one piece.
A break finally came their way in the form of the old hunting and fishing store in Porter.
It was nothing more than a portable building with an AC unit in one window, but it had extra arrows, fishing poles, and knives. There were four rifles, several boxes of bullets, and two sleeping bags.
Beth almost cried when she found several packages of beef jerky still sealed. It might have gone out of date a year ago, but her momma always said if it hadn't been opened at all, some things lasted a lot longer than their "best by" date.
Jerky was one of them apparently.
That first night, she and Daryl unzipped one sleeping bag and laid it flat then used the blanket they had in their pack to cover up with, while Merle took the other sleeping bag for himself. They laid on the roof, and for the first time in weeks, they slept the entire night.
Beth had never felt so rested or full. Or at least she couldn't remember the last time, and she didn't actively try because that would mean going back to the prison, and she didn't want that, even in her thoughts.
It was beyond comforting to wake up to Daryl curled around her again. The words they threw at each other hurt, but at least they had gotten it all out and finally moved past it. She knew she hadn't touched the full loss of her daddy yet, and she might not unless she found Maggie, but she had gotten a good bit of the pain and anger off her chest.
During the week that they stayed at the tackle shop, Daryl took her out, and they worked on her hunting and tracking. Merle fished. They rested and got their strength back along with a little boost in morale.
She had been so sad the morning they left it behind, but Daryl held her hand in his and led her forward. Beth knew the only way to survive was to keep going so she took courage in his grip and put one foot in front of the other.
They had been moving through the woods a few hours when Daryl had her start tracking for them.
Merle laughed a little when she got turned around, but for the most part, he chewed on a cinnamon stick behind her and Daryl.
"Whatcha trackin'?" Daryl asked and pointed to the ground.
She sighed and stared at the forest floor. "Looks kinda zig-zaggy." Beth peeked up at Daryl. "It's a walker."
He smirked and nodded. "Go on then." And waved his hand in front of them.
She followed the tracks to an open meadow and found a walker eating on something. She took her bow and slowly stepped forward, keeping it in her sights. Just as she was about to release the arrow, a crushing pain hit her ankle and caused her to crumple to the ground.
The walker turned and started walking toward her. Beth released the arrow, hitting the walker in the jaw.
Before she knew it Merle was charging forward, stabbing his knife hand through its head and Daryl was sliding up beside her, pulling the trap off her foot and ankle.
"Fuck," he muttered and grunted as he pried the jaws open. "Ya alright? Do ya think it's broken?"
"Definitely not broken," she whispered. "I broke the other ankle when I was twelve. I know broke. This is just sprained or bruised, but it hurts a whole lot."
"I fuckin' bet," he said. "You're lucky it was so rusted. It didn't pack nearly as much force as it should've."
"Can ya walk?" Merle asked.
She turned her head and looked up at him. "Yeah. I'll just be a lot slower."
"It just so happens we got all the time in the world, sugar." He answered and held out his hand. Daryl stood up, too, and they both helped her stand before Daryl put a steadying arm around her waist.
They continued on, barely moving it felt like, for at least another hour. The trees broke again and a cemetery lay in front of them.
Beth sighed and said, "Can we rest for a minute?"
Daryl looked from her to the funeral home across the cemetery and slid his bow around front. "Hop up."
"Are ya serious?" She asked with a hint of laughter in her voice.
Daryl bent down a little and nodded. "It's a serious piggy back, arrow."
She grinned and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"Smooth move, Darla." Merle laughed and walked past them.
Beth jumped up and Daryl caught her behind the thighs. "You're heavier than ya look," he mumbled.
"Shut up," she said and leaned her head down against his shoulder.
"Ya think anyone's there?" She asked.
"If they are, I'll take care of 'em."
"They might be good people."
Daryl paused for a moment then said, "I don't think the good ones make it."
Beth sighed and looked toward the tombstones as they passed. One caught her eye and she tapped his shoulder and started to slide off his back.
Beloved father.
She stared at those words for a long time before Daryl's movement caused him to turn her head. He placed some yellow flowers on top of it, and Beth sent him a sad smile. "Thank you."
Once they were side-by-side again, she linked their fingers together while Daryl stayed silent. It was a silence for everyone they had lost, but it was the funeral her father had never gotten. And for a moment, Beth wondered if Daryl was right and the good ones didn't make it after all.
The funeral home was spotless, and full of food. The doors and windows were all boarded up, too. They could make it here for a while. It was secure, and the woods were close enough that him and Merle could go out and hunt.
They needed this windfall. Beth's ankle was swollen and tender. It would be at least a month before she would actually be able to run full speed again.
Daryl breathed a sigh of relief as he locked up the front door. Things were starting to look up.
He found Merle and Beth sitting at the kitchen table, sharing a jar of peanut butter. Daryl grabbed the jelly off the table and stuck his fingers in while Beth made a sound of disgust.
"Use a spoon, Daryl," she said and slid one across the table to her. He ignored it and ate some more.
He felt guilty, but the last thing he wanted was Merle to open his mouth. The little twinkle in his eye let Daryl knew there would be hell to pay if he touched that spoon.
After a few seconds Merle looked away. "I think I'ma head into a few of the nearby towns. Might be gone a little while."
"Why?" Beth asked. "We just found a safe place."
Merle started picking at the table with his fingernail, and Daryl could feel the tension coming off of him.
"Thought I'd try and find Carol."
Beth sight softly and reached out and laid a hand on Merle's arm. He tried to pull away, but she held on.
"Okay then," she said quietly. "Ya gotta be safe, though. No hero bullshit. Check in every other day if ya can."
"When'd ya become my mother?" He muttered.
Daryl watched as Beth looked between the two them. Her eyes looked so tired. "I'm not. I guess I've just gotten used to havin' ya around."
"Must be my sterlin' personality."
Beth cleared her throat. "Must be." She put down her spoon down and stood up. "I think I'm gonna go lay down. I'm pretty beat, and my ankle hurts."
She stopped by Daryl and kissed his cheek, lingering just a little longer than she usually did in front of anyone.
Once she was up the stairs, Merle looked to Daryl and said, "Ya got a good one." Daryl shrugged. "Ya need to own it. I don't think it's bad to have it now. Before? I thought it was a load of horseshit, but now, I think we need it to keep on."
"That why ya goin' to track down Carol?"
It was Merle's turn to shrug then.
They sat in silence for several minutes before Merle said, "There's only three people in this world that'd I'd do somethin' stupid and die for." Daryl lifted his eyes and looked over at his brother. "Two of 'em are here. Just makes sense to bring the other person here, too."
Merle chewed on his bottom lip for a second then said, "I knew what she did. I found her after, thought no one would put it together. She was messed up over it."
"I imagine," he said quietly, his mind reeling from what he just heard.
"Just gotta try," Merle spoke just as softly.
Daryl nodded with a grunt and stood up. "I'ma head to bed."
That made Merle smirk. "'Sides, you and blondie need some time to yaselves. Bet your balls are blue."
Daryl shook his head, for once happy for the near dark. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and didn't want to hear Merle's laughter.
"'Night," Daryl ignored him and turned for the door.
"Night, baby brother."
Merle slipped out right before daybreak.
He had a rifle slung over one shoulder and his sleeping bag strung across his back.
He could set snares and scavenge for food, plus he had taken Beth's last pack of beef jerky. She would be pissed but tough shit. She had off brand soda and pig's feet.
He took a quick look back at the funeral home and hoped like hell it wouldn't be the last time he saw it.