So much for my goal of getting a new chapter out every week, but hopefully I can get back on track soon. In this chapter, there was very little about Beth but I hope to have her playing a much larger role in the chapters to come. I hope you enjoy!
Daryl's POV
Daryl tiptoed quietly around the sleeping men. The Marauders didn't bother with night watches. The barbed wire kept walkers out and the group's general threatening atmosphere kept people away. As Daryl stepped over the man named Len, he fought the urge to kick the guy in the face. The man had gotten on Daryl's nerves ever since he had called Daryl's jacket that first day. Len constantly followed Joe around and sucked up to the leader. He also whined like a baby about everything, Daryl didn't know why Joe put up with him. If it had been him, he would have just punched the guy in the face and been done with it. The redneck ducked under the barbed wire and stepped carefully to avoid any twigs. He had learned as a child how to sneak up on the prey he was hunting. Compared to deer and foxes, humans were practically deaf, they heard almost nothing, especially when they were asleep.
Once Daryl was a good distance from the campsite, he loaded his bow and began searching for any signs of animal life. Now would be the time to leave if that is what Daryl was going to. He had already seen that the Marauders didn't have Beth with them, nor did they seem to know anything about her. However, Daryl had no other clues as to where the blonde or anyone else from his old group might be. Daryl had decided that morning that he would stay a few days before moving on. It didn't hurt to be able to get a few nights sleep and have some protection because once he was on his own again things would get tough real fast. After he healed a bit and got some sleep, Daryl was going to start searching for Beth and the others, no matter how impossible the task might be.
Daryl's stomach growled and he mentally cussed at it for interrupting his otherwise quiet venture through the woods. The older man's ears picked up the sound of bubbling water. He headed toward what he assumed was a river because from experience he knew that animals would go towards water. Once he was fairly close to brook, the redneck squatted down and waited. Hunting required patience, which was why Daryl had always hunted instead of Merle. His older brother had never been able to just sit and listen to the sounds of the forest. Merle was one who would go to the prey rather than wait for the prey to come to him. He had often called Daryl's hunting "sissy waiting" and would taunt his younger brother every time he came home with only one animal to show for hours of sitting. However, the waiting never bothered Daryl, he liked blending into the forest and watching as it came alive. Daryl was familiar with many different bird calls and the drone of various insects. Currently though, there was a noise that was not made by any forest animal. Daryl listened closely as he made out the sound of footsteps approaching. They had a rhythm to them that made Daryl sure they were not from a walker and they were too heavy to be Beth's. The footsteps stopped a few meters behind him. Daryl was sure one of the men from camp was behind him, but he didn't feel like acknowledging their presence. When Daryl hunted, he blocked everything else out, nothing mattered except his prey.
A moment later, a cottontail hopped by and began nibbling at a patch of grass. Slowly, Daryl raised his bow and peered down the weapon. If one of the Marauders was watching, it was in his best interest to show how deadly his aim was. Daryl closed his left eye, a habit he had had since childhood that helped him focus on the target. His callused finger tightened over the trigger and then pulled. At the same time he released the bolt, a rush of wind blew past his face. His arrow had hit the rabbit's heart; the other one had hit the hind leg. Daryl felt the anger grow in him as he stood up. Only one other man in the group had a bow and that man had just made the mistake to taunt Daryl by shooting so close to his head.
"What the hell you doing," Daryl growled at Len, who seemed unaware of how easily Daryl could beat the hell out of him. Len smirked before replying. "Just catching me some breakfast," he said as nonchalantly as possible. Daryl wanted to smack that the idiot upside the head. The guy knew nothing if he thought Daryl would just hand over his rabbit. "That's mine," Daryl asserted before heading over to pick up the dead animal. Joe might put up with Len's bullshit, but Daryl sure as hell wasn't. "My arrow is the one that hit first," argued Len in an incessant voice, "cottontail belongs to me." Daryl slung his bow onto his back and fought the urge to snort at the man's stupid comment. Daryl had had seen the prey first and had hit the animal's heart, it was his fair and square. "I've been out here before the sun came up," Daryl retorted before he turned his focus to pulling bolts out of the rabbit. However, Len didn't let up.
"You see, the rules of the hunt don't mean jack out here," the lanky man told Daryl, "Now, that rabbit you're holding is claimed, boy." Daryl hadn't been called a boy in many years and he wasn't about to let some scraggly man start insulting him now. Deliberately, Daryl turned around until he was facing Len. In a casual motion, he tossed Len's arrow into the woods. The man glared at Daryl, anger showing on his face. "Claimed," Len insisted, "whether you like it or not. So I was you, I would hand it over." The conversation was no longer about the rabbit but about who would get their way. Daryl hadn't been raised to take people's crap and if Len thought he could make Daryl do what he wanted, then he was about to have a rude awakening. The tough redneck could easily take Len, the man was no match for him, but Daryl didn't feel that was necessary in this situation. Instead, he walked past Len as the man continued to rant about the ownership of the rabbit. He was tired of the man's jabber and wanted to cook the rabbit up so he could eat.
Len walked right in front of Daryl, blocking his path. "If I was you, I would hand it over," Len threatened, "Now before you get to wishing you ain't never even got out of bed this morning." Daryl did his best not to laugh at the man's pathetic intimidations. "It ain't yours," Daryl snarled in the man's face. Len got a vicious look in his eyes but stayed outwardly calm. "You know," Len began, "I'll bet this bitch got you all messed up, hunh?" The scrawny man indicated towards his head as he watched Daryl to see if his words were having any effect. The redneck stepped back in shock of how close the man was to the truth but tried to hide any emotions. "Am I right," Len asked, pushing his luck. Daryl gave him the fiercest glare possible before forcing himself to head back towards camp. However, Len just didn't know when to let up. He followed right behind Daryl, talking the whole time.
"Got you walking around here like a dead man who just lost himself a piece of tail. Must have been a good'un," Len taunted. Daryl felt his anger boil over at hearing the piece of shit talk about Beth. He stopped right in his tracks and considered all the ways he could kill Len. "Tell me somethin," Len goaded, "was it one of the little'uns." Without consciously thinking, Daryl's hand found his knife and pulled it out of its sheath. He wasn't going to stand there and let this bastard spew crap about Beth. However, he paused as he remembered Rick's rules. He could hear Rick's voice ringing in his head, "We don't kill the living." That's what the officer had told him when Jim had been bitten and Daryl wanted to put an end to the man. Unless someone was trying to kill them, that was a rule that the group had stuck to.
Len licked his lips, obviously enjoying the rise he was getting out of the redneck. "Cause they don't last too long out here," Len jeered. That's when Daryl's limit of self-control was reached. He yanked the knife up and was ready to plunge it into the bastard's head when a hand wrapped around his arm. "Easy, fellas, easy," demanded Joe's voice. Daryl anger grew when he realized that he had fallen for Len's trap. The devious man must have noticed that Daryl was touchy on the subject he had been talking about and when he had seen Joe coming, Len must have decided to make Daryl look bad in front of the leader. Len snickered as Joe kept Daryl from ripping the man to shreds. Daryl wanted to fight off Joe and give Len exactly what he had been asking for, but that would just be playing right into Len's hands. "Let's just put our weapons down," Joe said in a soothing voice.
Daryl slowly lowered his right hand, which still clenched the blade in a tight grip. Now wasn't the time for him to lose his head even though he wanted nothing more than to lash out. Joe watched him closely as he put the knife back in its sheath at his side. "Alright," Joe began, "let's see if we can't figure out what's really the problem here, hunh?" While talking, the leader moved between the two men to make sure things didn't get physical. Joe turned to Len, "did you claim it?" "Hell ya," Len replied. Joe nodded and turned to Daryl. "Well there you go," Joe declared, "that critter belongs to Len." Len's face contorted into a victorious sneer as he stared at Daryl. "Well let's have it," he demanded. Daryl didn't move, he wasn't about to hand over his hard-earned breakfast to some sneaky guy who had just insulted Beth. Joe sensed the tension in the air and began talking again.
"Now it looks like you may be wanting an explanation," Joe clarified, "See, going it alone, that ain't an option nowadays. Still, it is survival of the fittest. So I laid out some rules of the road to keep things from going Darwin every couple of hours. Keep our merry band together and stress free." Daryl looked down at the ground, not really caring about the rabbit or why it belonged to Len. He was annoyed at himself for walking straight into Len's trap and getting caught looking like the bad guy in front of Joe. He was even more annoyed that he had to stay calm but he knew getting angry would only make things worse. Joe leaned in, making sure he had Daryl's attention. "All you got to do is claim," Joe informed Daryl, "That's how you mark your territory, your prey, your bed at night. One word, claimed." After he finished his explanation of the rules, Joe stared at Daryl as if expecting a response. "I ain't claiming nothin," Daryl replied. He may be with this group for a few days, but he wasn't about to become one of them and following rules like that would make him part of the Marauders.
"We're gonna teach him, right," Len inquired, almost salivating at the mouth at the chance to get Daryl in trouble. When Joe didn't make a move, Len continued his argument. "The rules say we gotta teach him," Len demanded. Joe took a deep breath before continuing. "Now," he began in his most calm voice, "it wouldn't be fair to punish you for violating a rule you never knew existed." Len began pacing around and muttering at Joe's decision. "There aren't no rules anymore," Daryl said, thinking of how Beth had been snatched from him. "Oh, there are, you know that," Joe asserted, "That's why I didn't kill you for the crossbow." Daryl had had enough of this discussion and the bullshit that Joe was spitting out. He turned to go when he felt a tug on the rabbit. He turned around ready to chop Len's hand off, but it was only Joe. "Hey, easy there partner," the leader said as he pulled the rabbit up higher. Then, Joe lifted up his axe and sliced the rabbit in half, leaving Daryl holding the hind quarters. Joe threw the bloody head of the rabbit to Len, who finally quit talking and left. "Claimed, that's all you got to say," Joe reiterated. Daryl glared at Joe, who shrugged. "Hey, an ass end is still an end," Joe joked before following Len back toward camp. Daryl stood in the forest for a while seething before he headed back as well. However, what had happened between him and Len was far from over, he was sure of that.
Beth's POV
Beth stared at the ceiling, wondering when captivity had become so boring. After leaving her last place of imprisonment, they had driven for almost an hour before arriving at her current location. Beth had been roughly pulled out of the vehicle and led into the room she was currently staying in. It was an improvement over the last place. Here she had a bed with a single blanket and pillow. There was a chair and desk, both bolted to the floor. There was a restroom attached to the room that had a shower and sink. However, there were no windows to escape out of except a skylight in the very tall ceiling. There were no objects lying around that could be used as weapons, although Beth had tried to yank the metal pipe from the water faucet out.
Upon first being put in the room, Beth had banged and hollered against the locked door. She didn't get any response and after her fists had become raw, she had stopped. For a good hour, she had sat in the corner of the room, hugging her legs like Renee always did. After a while though, her fear and anger had flowed away and boredom had taken its place. Ever since she had been kidnapped, she had expected to be tortured or killed any second and yet so far she had just been chained to a wall or locked in a room the whole time. Why are they keeping me here like this? Beth glared at the ceiling as if it were keeping the answers from her. The blonde was emotionally and physically exhausted from the whole ordeal but she was afraid that if she fell asleep her captors might enter the room. However, there wasn't much to do except think about Renee's frightening warning. The teenager's face had completely changed from one of somber withdraw to one of terror upon talking about Beth's new captors.
When Beth was moved from the car to the room, she had heard the hustle and bustle of people and was fairly certain that this was a campsite similar to the one her group had had at the prison. She had caught snatches of conversation but nothing ominous. One female voice talked about a quilt she was sewing and another male voice had been asking how much ammunition was left. While nothing had seemed particularly bad, none of the people had cared that a hostage girl was being dragged through their camp either. Beth curled up on her side and brought the lumpy pillow into her embrace. She wished she had some paper and a pen to write with because nothing helped settle her mind like writing. Her stomach growled and Beth thought back to when she had last eaten, which was that morning with Renee. The light from the single window was starting to fade, which meant it was almost night.
Beth got up and went to the bathroom and tried the shower. To her surprise, the water actually turned on. Beth laughed with joy and began to shower with her clothes still on. The cool streams trickled down Beth's head and shoulders. She leaned her head back, enjoying the relaxing sensation. The young girl never would have thought of a shower as a luxury before the apocalypse, but now it certainly was. Even without soap or shampoo or warm water, the shower felt amazing. When Beth finished, she had no towel to dry off with so she stood in the shower dripping wet. After a few minutes of uncertainty, she stepped out and headed back into the room, leaving a trail of tiny puddles behind her.
Everything was the same, except that some new clothes had been folded and left on her bed. Beth stared at the garments and wondered how they had been placed in her room without her knowing. She stripped down and changed into the new outfit, which was a pair of shorts and a polyester workout shirt. Feeling cleaner than she had in a long time, Beth got into bed. All of her muscles ached and she was hungrier than ever, but for once she wasn't running or covered in grim. Beth ran her fingers over her heart necklace and wondered where Maggie was. The blonde couldn't think of Maggie without also thinking of Glenn. She felt sure that they were out there somewhere, her sister was a fighter and Glenn would do anything to protect Maggie. Beth was sometimes jealous of her older sister's relationship, she had always wished that she could be held and looked at like Glenn did with Maggie. That thought immediately brought to mind a pair of dark blue eyes that gleamed out from behind scruffy brown hair. What had Daryl meant when he had said that she made him change his mind about there still being good people? In that moment, Beth had felt so sure that Daryl saw her as more than just an incompetent girl to babysit. Now that the moment was gone Beth was second guessing herself. Maybe she had been caught up in the moment and had read too much into Daryl's short responses. After all, it was impossible to believe that the tough redneck could have feelings for her. Beth's eyelids dropped lower as she thought about those last few days. Finally, they closed and Beth drifted off into sleep.
Daryl's POV
The Marauders had been walking all day. Around noon, they had come across some railroad tracks and had begun to follow them. Daryl hung back like always, keeping his distance from the rough group. He didn't think any of the men would notice if he just slipped away into the woods, but something held him. Daryl didn't want to admit it to himself, but he didn't want to be alone. He was also tired of being a leader and making decisions. Back at the prison, he had slowly become an unofficial leader and never before had he felt so accountable for so many people. That feeling of responsibility had made it worse for him when the prison fell, Daryl didn't know if he would ever be able to get rid of the guilt he felt over Hershel's death. Then, with Beth, he had been the one in charge. She had looked up to him and respected him and he had let her down. Daryl should have known better than to think that he could ever be someone like Rick, someone who could lead the group and make the right decisions. With the Marauders, he wouldn't have to make decisions or led or be a better person, instead he just had to follow the simple rules. If he followed Joe's rules, it didn't matter if he was a "good" person or a "bad" person. He wouldn't have to think anymore or have responsibilities for other people. However, to follow Joe's rules meant that he would be giving up his membership in Rick's group and that was something he wasn't ready for yet. No matter how badly he had messed up, Daryl wanted to be back with his old group again.
While Daryl had been contemplating the possibility of staying with the group, Joe had dropped back from his men to talk to the redneck. He came up alongside Daryl and for a few minutes the men walked in silence. "So what's the plan, Daryl," Joe asked, breaking the quiet bond between them. Daryl knew what Joe was talking about but didn't want to answer. Instead, he hedged the question by acting like he didn't understand. "How so," he asked. "Well," Joe explained, pulling the cigarette from between his lips, "you're with us now but you ain't soon?" Daryl figured there was no reason to deny his intentions. "Yep," he answered plainly. Joe stared at the redneck, but Daryl avoided his gaze. "So what's the plan," Joe insisted. Daryl couldn't say that he was looking for Beth, he couldn't even begin to explain to Joe how he had once been a leader of a group. "Just lookin for the right place is all," Daryl muttered. "Oh," Joe exclaimed, "so we ain't good enough for your, hunh?" Daryl realized with surprise that Joe was right. When the apocalypse first happened, he would have been more than fine staying with the Marauders, but now things had changed.
"Some of you ain't exactly friendly," Daryl said, trying not to outright insult the man's group. Joe chuckled at his response. "You ain't exactly so friendly yourself," Joe retorted. When Daryl didn't respond, Joe continued. "You know you need a group out here," the leader pointed out. "Maybe I don't," Daryl said, thinking of all the bad things that had happened to the people in his last group. Sometimes he thought it would be easier to just walk away from it all and live by himself in the forest. "No," Joe said firmly, "you do. You should be with us." Daryl's insides went cold when Joe said the word "us". Even though Daryl had been considering staying, hearing Joe say it made it real. Daryl wasn't ready for a new group, not when the pain of his last one was still fresh. "People don't got to be friendly, we don't have to be nice. We don't have to be brother's in arms," Joe explained as he watched his men take out a walker. "We just got to follow the rules," Joe continued, "you claim. If you steal you keel. I know that sounds a little funny, but nobody laughs when something goes missing. And you don't lie. Cause that is a slippery slope indeed." Daryl didn't think those rules were nearly as good as Rick's rules, but his curiosity had been peaked. These men lived by a code, a simple code. It might be easier for him to follow those rules than try and live up to the high expectations of his last group.
"What happens if you break 'em," Daryl questioned. Joe looked over at him, obviously happy that the redneck was showing some interest. "You catch a beating," Joe answered, "The severity of which depends upon the offense and the general attitude of the day. But that don't happen much cause when men like us follow rules and cooperate a little bit, well, the world becomes ours." Daryl didn't like how Joe kept including him as part of the group. He hadn't made up his mind yet and until he did he wasn't going to be a part of the Marauders. Joe let out a whistle and pointed toward a metal building beside the tracks. "Right there," he commanded, "It's our abode for the evening." The men jumped to follow Joe's command but Daryl stopped walking. He needed to straighten things out with Joe, he couldn't have the man thinking he was one of them. "Hey," he told Joe, "There ain't no us." The leader stared Daryl down a moment before walking up to him. "You leaving right now," Joe demanded. This was Daryl's chance, if he was going to leave, this would be the best time. However, he couldn't make himself leave.
"No," Joe prodded and Daryl stood in silence. "Then it sure seems like there is an us," Joe finished before walking towards the building. His words hit Daryl hard. The older man was right, Daryl could act like he wasn't a part of the group and not follow the rules all he wanted, but as long as he stayed, he was a Marauder. Daryl had been a part of a lot of things he didn't like and all because he couldn't walk away. He had followed Merle his whole life even though he knew his older brother made horrible decisions. He had followed Merle's group, which had been just about as bad as the Marauders. While he had never taken part in the illegal things they did, his presence in their group made him just as guilty. Now the same choice was staring him in the face, just as it had all those years before the world ended and Daryl got the feeling he was going to make the wrong decision once again. "You a cat person, Daryl," came Joe's voice. The redneck stared at Joe, wondering where the conversation was heading. "I am," Joe stated, "loved'em since I was three years old. Vicious creatures." The leader took a drag of his cigarette before making his point. "Anyways, I will tell ya, and this is true," Joe finished, "ain't nothing sadder than an outdoor cat that thinks he's an indoor cat."
Beth's POV
Beth woke up the next morning to find that a tray of food had been left at the foot of her bed. Her stomach grumbled and it took all of her self-control not to just shove the food straight into her mouth. On the tray there was a plate with some grilled meat and vegetables. Renee's warning came back to Beth and she stared at the meal, wondering what was wrong with the seemingly delicious food. She had gotten used to the various kinds of meat that Daryl brought in, like squirrel and deer. However, this meat didn't quite seem to be either of those. Beth sniffed it and found the smell unfamiliar. Her stomach clenched and she was tempted for a second to ignore the teenager's advice. Instead, Beth contented herself with eating the vegetables.
When she finished, she was still hungry but her gut instinct told her not to eat the meat. It was like everything else in this place. The room was nice, the little she had heard of people's conversations seemed normal, but that didn't change the fact that she was a captive. Just like her room and the people, the food might look nice on the outside but if Renee said there was something wrong with it, then there probably was. Beth pulled the meat apart, searching for hidden pills or anything out of the usual. However, it was meat all the way through. She put the food down and wiped her hands on her old damp T-shirt that she had left on the ground. Just as she finished, voices came from outside her door.
"Come with me, I want to greet our new guest," said a female voice. The door lock clicked and the doorknob turned. Beth stood up, ready to fight whoever came through the entrance. However, the person that entered wasn't what Beth expected. An older woman with long brown hair came through the door. She wasn't holding a single weapon and had a smile on her face. Beth lowered her fists, unsure of what to make of the stranger. "Hello," the woman said, "I'm Mary." She walked a bit closer to Beth and her eyes seemed to radiate with motherly concern. A man with a large gun came in but stayed by the door. He seemed to be watching Beth to make sure she didn't hurt the older woman. "You have been through a whole lot my dear," Mary observed, "but it's okay now. Welcome to Terminus."
Well, now Beth is at the long anticipated Terminus. I can't wait to develop her character more and hope to have another chapter out by next weekend. Thanks to all my readers for supporting my fanfiction.