For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.
Previously, on the Walking Dead—Daryl takes out two walkers and another follows Carol to the waterfall.
Fate
Rather than toting lunch through the woods with him, he'd stopped for only a half a second to secure his string of kills over a branch. If some creature, living or dead, got to it before he did, then he'd just have to go hunting again later. He'd deal with that. What he didn't want to deal with was losing someone else. There had already been way too many deaths too quickly back to back. He was done with that.
If he ever met Karma, he promised then and there he'd kick her ass.
Daryl wished Carol had been more forthcoming with details from her dream as he was left to try to chase after her. Since she'd known exactly where she was going, each footfall was determined, each step calculated. Because he wasn't entirely sure, he had to follow the signs. But, he didn't see any.
"Carol!" He needed a direction. She wasn't still in the water; she'd deviated one way or the other.
The silence that followed seemed to last for an unbearable amount of time. It was as though everything slowed when he was hanging on, waiting for her answer. He'd be damned if he had to smash her head in, to prevent her from suffering her daughter's unfortunate fate.
"This way!"
The moment he heard her, he took off to follow. It wasn't long until he spotted drag marks through the brush, caused by the walker's jerky steps. In the center of a clearing, cluttered with thorny groundcover, he saw a muddy sneaker. Swallowing a curse, he continued his chase. The occasional footprint in soft ground, the low-lying broken twigs and plants, all led him closer and closer to something that sounded… loud.
It wasn't a scream or a cry, just a roaring din in the distance.
He stopped dead when he spotted it, a rushing waterfall.
"Daryl!"
His attention was drawn to a point midway up the falls, where Carol stood, her weight balanced precariously on her left foot, a hand outstretched and waving. She pointed suddenly at something on the ground, at his level. Following her finger, he saw the walker, eroding the steep hill with its inability to climb. Rather than waste an arrow, he strolled to it, his movements undetected over the sound of the falls. It never saw the blade coming.
With the walker dispatched, he edged its body away from the hill. "How'd you get up there?"
"Takes a little doin'," she admitted.
"There an easier way?"
She shrugged. "Don't think so."
He secured the new knife in its sheath. "You knew about this place, too?"
"Sophia," she answered simply.
He nodded a little. "Looks like we found a safe laundry room." He took a second to review the way she stood, the way she cradled her hands against her chest. "You okay?"
She turned both bloody palms to him. "I'll be fine."
It could've been far worse. He wanted to tell her to heed his directions next time, but everything had turned out okay. They weren't any the worse for wear, and they knew where they could find water, even shelter from the walkers when out scavenging and hunting. It wasn't worth the fight, getting her upset for nothing. "Sit tight," he told her. "I'll go get everything, meet you back here."
"Daryl…"
He looked up at her.
"Be careful."
He wanted to point out that she'd been the one damaging his calm that day, but opted against it. He merely nodded in return.
On his way back to the initial camp, he marked the trail, occasionally notching the trees. He picked up Carol's lost shoe, his untouched kills, and even loaded up the laundry and cracked washboard back into her backpack. The other dead ranger had been equipped similarly, so he picked up another knife and a second walkie-talkie. If he'd been smart, he'd have left the first set with Carol, so he could've been sure she was fine on the way back.
Granted, he hadn't had time to check either radio yet. The first one crackled to life, with sparse static. A quick tune across stations revealed more of the same. To conserve battery power, he shut it off. When he tried the second, only the knob clicked in response. Maybe with a little time and spare parts from somewhere, they could fix it. It had the potential to be the start of a plan at least.
But the knife would've been a good thing to leave with Carol regardless.
By the time he found his way to the waterfall again, she was curled up on the floor of the cave, her arms wrapped around herself. Exhaustion had taken over, and why shouldn't it? She'd been awake for most of his watch that morning, only getting an hour, maybe two of sleep.
He set up the clothesline along the water's edge, hoping the wind created by the falls might help complete the process. After, he carefully climbed the steep hill, edging along the rocky ledge to the cave. How she could sleep with the echoing roar of the water, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. He settled in beside her, removing his leather vest and draping it over her. It was the best he could do.
Stay tuned…