…. Chapter 59 ….
Consciousness intruded the void Daryl was in and he groaned in pain, unable to help himself as it quickly reminded him of just what it was he was waking up to. There was a muted light coming in from somewhere and it flared past his eyelids, piercing into his skull to make him instantly nauseous. With his head already throbbing like a son of a bitch, he rolled away to throw up immediately, full blown dry heaves that left him shivering on the ground. For having taken more beatings in a lifetime than most people could handle, he knew the signs of another one all too well... only he couldn't remember the details of this one in particular for shit. Maybe that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Drawing a ragged breath, he struggled to open his eyes... taking the moment to pull himself together. He blinked in the aftermath to look around, able to do so now his gut was clear and his vision had adjusted. Wherever he was, it was small… the labored sounds he was making seemed to practically echo off the walls. It was also dark as hell. What had felt like the glare of a thousand suns turned out to be nothing more than a smattering of daylight as it bled in through the narrow space beneath the door.
He gingerly pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth in determination as his body instantly complained. His hand drifted up to his head to determine the source of the splitting headache. Feeling around, he discovered a deep wound at his temple that was covered in a thick layer of dried blood. Well, at least that explained one thing. From there a few other issues soon came to light, including the potential for several fractured ribs. He had raw abrasions on his face and both of his knees were scraped up to hell. What the fuck happened? How long had he been here for?
The growing list of injuries just confounded him more. Digging deeper for the answer, a vague memory of trains came to him… lots of them… and guns, a lot of those as well… and Beth...
"Beth..." Daryl whispered loudly, spinning around in hopes that she was locked in here with him. Instantly regretting the sudden movement, he braced himself unsteadily against the wall. "Beth! Ya in here?"
Nothing.
Dropping to his belly, he looked out through the crack under the door only to have the worst of his fears confirmed. He was locked in one of the train cars housed within Terminus, one of eight in a row that he could make out. They were all labeled alphabetically starting with 'A' and ending with 'H'. From what he could remember, none of the cars outside the compound had been tagged in such a way. Three cars to his right meant that he was in "D". If he was in this one, then which one was Beth in? Was she still alive?
He was instantly inundated with a wave of regret for bringing them here and he squeezed his eyes shut in remorse for knowing it. For as careful as he had tried to be, in the end it hadn't mattered. They both had been taken almost immediately, the occupants of Terminus having the guns and the numbers that he hadn't properly accounted for. Somehow, the two of them had gotten separated... a circumstance he swore would never happen again. She was gone and he'd rather take a bolt to the chest than face the void of hopeless uncertainty her absence caused him once more. Everything about it had his nerves worn so fucking thin that his brain could barely function past the depleted state his body was in.
A clanging bell was suddenly heard from the vicinity of the building and Daryl pressed his face back into the gap to see what was going on. A group of men came strolling out of Terminus dressed in riot masks and blood stained aprons. They chatted amongst themselves as they made their way over to where the row of box cars sat waiting for them.
Feeling like hammered dog shit, he knew he didn't have it within himself to fight them all off so he heaved a deep seated sigh of relief as he watched them head towards the 'F' car. Unlocking the coupling, one of the men threw in a smoke grenade of some kind and then waited as about eight women and children came pouring out. All of them were screaming hysterically and wheezing for breath, not that it mattered. They were all rounded up immediately and practically thrown into the back of a nearby truck.
Daryl swallowed hard in an effort to quell his own heart as it beat furiously at his ribs. Laying there in the filth of those before him, he watched as the truck drove straight back into the building, using a convenient side entrance marked for 'Deliveries'.
While he was relieved to see that none of the women had been Beth, that was of little consolation. The other box cars just outside of fence had been drenched in blood, indicating that a lot of people had seen the hell Terminus had in store for them all. The girl could've been part of an earlier group that had been taken there or maybe one that was due to go in there next...
With only one way to find out, Daryl determinedly shoved himself to his feet and started to look around for anything he could use to defend himself. He ran his fingers over the darkened interior of the car only to pause as the pad of his thumb caught on a large splinter of wood. Digging into it, he plied it carefully from the wall to determine if it would do.
He undid his bootlace and and quickly unthreaded it free. Using a trick he had learned from Merle, he began to use it like a saw… separating the splinter itself from the wood it sat in until it gradually became a spike. With the fortified shoelace wearing thin, he put it back in his boot and repeated the process with the other one. The dilapidated state of the wood helped immensely and when he had the piece about eight inches long, he snapped it free and hefted the weight of it in his hand.
Checking outside for movement once more, Daryl slid the spike up the sleeve of his jacket, testing its maneuverability to make sure it was available to him when he needed it. He was feeling marginally better about the shitiness of his circumstance when the trap door above him suddenly opened up and a gas grenade was dropped in...
"Chew on this, asshole" Was spat down derisively with it.
A toxic smoke proceeded to fill the narrow space allotted to him and he immediately began coughing from it, doing so until he felt as if his lungs were about to burst. The cloud of gas was suffocating and it seeped its way into every nook and crevasse. When the door to the car didn't slide open as expected, he was left pounding against it in sheer desperation. Everything became a hazy blur as he sunk back down onto the floor, passing out again to not remember a damn thing else.
…..
Daryl woke up some time later to find himself being roughly carried through what looked like the worst kind of slaughter house known to man. He hung on the arms of those who held him as visions of horror seared themselves within his subconscious. Blurry drugged out images of back room autopsies inundated his mind… corpses hanging on meat hooks… sights so grotesque that they hardly seemed real. His arms were bound tightly behind his back and he groaned against the gag in his mouth, barely able to form a coherent thought as his feet dragged on the ground behind him.
The chemical grenade had left his chest feeling like it was on fire and any attempt made to pull the slightest breath had his eyes watering. Blinking it away, he swallowed hard as he was hauled into a large room of some kind located at the end of the hallway. Through the hair that hung limply in his face he could see that it was specifically set up for the execution and dissection of humans. There were large instruments of death hanging on the wall, all of which were covered in a fine layer of gore… the tiles on the walls were stained with blood and there were plastic containers filled with body parts stacked haphazardly on the floor like the worst kind of garbage.
He instantly began struggling against his bonds, preferring to die on his feet than to beg on his knees. The gesture was not appreciated by those who held him and one of the men immediately uppercutted him hard in his bruised ribs. Way past the point of letting such a minuscule thing deter him, he was about to double down on his efforts when he happened to glance over and see Rick kneeling behind the huge twelve foot trough that dominated the center of the room. He huffed in surprise, barely able to believe his own eyes. Next to him was Glenn and Bob, neither one of them looking to be in much better shape than himself. All three were staring at him in absolute shock as he was thrown up against the trough as well, the sharp impact of which leaving him gasping for air.
"Got a live one here, Owen." One of the men said disinterestedly.
From his allotted spot in line, Daryl looked over to see who he was referring to. There on the far side of the room, two men were laboring intensely over the dead body of what looked to be an old woman laid out on a concrete slab. One of them was using a hacksaw to finish removing a leg while the other worked diligently on detaching the head. Both couldn't be bothered to look up from what they were doing as the man who spoke waited to see if they'd respond.
"Yeah? Well, not for long." Owen finally felt obligated to say. The men in aprons trudged out of the room and he gestured over to his co-worker to spit out, "What the fuck are you waiting on, man? It's your turn!"
"I ain't doing shit until the rest of 'em get here." The other man muttered, seemingly not wanting to be distracted from the meticulousness of his work.
As if on cue, more people arrived… four more men being dragged in by multiple others dressed in the masks and bloody aprons. The standard issued uniform made it difficult to tell if they were the same ones that had just been here or a new group entirely. What the hell was this place?
Taking the moment while he had it, Daryl choked down the lump of trepidation stuck in his throat and chanced a look over at Rick. For as much as he wanted to find him here, the direness of the circumstance they both now found themselves in just couldn't be worse. Rick was staring back at him as if he had already resigned himself for knowing it. Glenn was shaking from where he was between them as the new arrivals were thrown roughly into place. Much like the four of them, they were all looking at each other furtively as if equally confounded by what was about to happen.
An eerie silence fell across the room and they all bore the palpable weight of it as it pressed down upon them. Daryl tried to calm himself as his heart attempted to damn near beat him to death. He wasn't one to normally give in to panic but the seriousness of the situation and every harrowing aspect it entailed practically seemed to call for it. Rick was chewing at his gag, a thick layer of sweat running off his brow to drip into the trough in front of them all. Bob had tears in his eyes. This whole fucking thing had bad news written all over it.
All eyes were on Owen as he picked up two carving knives from the prep table nearby, scraping one across the length of the other in an attempt to sharpen them both. The sound they made grated over Daryl's already frayed nerves as the man began pacing behind them all restlessly. His co-worker grabbed a baseball bat and went down to the far end of the line. Making a fine show of things, he wound himself up like he was getting ready to partake at the most fucked up kind of batting practice and then took his swing.
They were all left watching as it connected with the head of the young blond guy down on the far end of the trough. The impact sent the kid reeling and he didn't even make a sound as he slumped down over its edge. Owen stepped in from behind and grabbed him by the hair, slitting his throat to let his blood drain freely. With everyone now aware of what was in store for them, a level of panic not previously attained to descended down on them immediately.
Daryl blanched as he heaved in fear, the sound of it lost to the gag in his mouth. Blood was gushing everywhere as the second guy fell, his body left twitching face down as they moved on to the next. The third man screamed as the bat made contact only to have Owen's blade cut the sound out of his throat. Just as his partner went to swing for the fourth, a young man with serious features unexpectedly stepped into the room, a clipboard held firmly in his hand.
"Guys, what are your shot counts?" He asked, completely unphased by the horror taking place in front of him.
"Thirty Eight." Was the answer given along with the hit.
The fourth guy was grabbed from behind and Daryl reeled back as the warmth of his blood spattered on the side of his face. He could only squeeze his eyes shut as both men moved behind him, the bat pressing up against the back of his head as it was carefully lined up...
"Hey!" The kid with the clipboard interrupted, "Am I talking to myself here? I just asked you a question!"
There was a long uncomfortable silence. "Man, I'm sorry Gareth… it's my first round up. I didn't know I needed to keep tabs on that shit."
From the way the two assholes behind him were deferring to the man, it was clear he was of some importance here. To Daryl, he didn't look like anything special… just your average, run-of-the-mill yuppie type that looked like he considered hiking a sport. Still, the four of them had no choice but to sullenly stare up at him from where they were all stuck on their knees. For his part, Gareth paid them no mind as he went back to scribbling on his clipboard.
"Josh, that's not an excuse..." He sighed, "When you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells. While you're at it, clear the fence line by 'H' car… the biters are starting to accumulate there and they're making me nauseous."
He started to pace around in front of them all as if he had something else he wanted to say. As a member of his captive audience, Daryl could only watch in apprehension as he dropped to a knee in front of Rick and yanked his gag down.
"Hi Rick." He said casually, a smile on his face the didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry things had to turn out this way, I really am... but you really gave me no choice. That being said, you've been our guest for a while now and I think we've been more than hospitable. When we first saw you, you were carrying a large blue bag. You went into the woods with that bag and then come out again without it. Rick, I need you to tell me two things… where's the bag now and more importantly, what's in it?"
In his peripherals, Daryl could see Rick glaring at the kid, a look he had seen before. Did the two of them know each other?
Realizing that no answer was going to be forthcoming, Gareth pulled a sick looking tactical knife from his belt. "You hid it right? Just in case things went south. That's understandable… smart even. I wish we could go out there and search for it ourselves but it's far too dangerous right now. Thanks to this asshole right here..." He pointed the tip of the blade over at Daryl, "... the perimeter is crawling biters. That what happens when my men don't greet newcomers quietly. Never trust the hired help to do what you can do yourself, right? Anyway, the fence lines now need to be cleared again, which... much like this conversation... is just wasting time that I don't particularly have to give..."
Gareth suddenly grabbed Bob by the back of the head and held the blade directly to his left eye.
"Just so you know, I'm not squeamish." He assured, putting it out there as if it were a fact that they should all just accept as a given. "Take a look around. I'll carve his eyeball from his head, cut it into bite sized pieces and feed it to him for breakfast… so I'll ask you again. Rick, what's in the bag?"
Rick's jaw tightened for having his hand forced. "Why don't you let me take you out there. I'll show you."
"Come on now, we both know that's not the answer I'm looking for..." Was tsked in response as the blade pressed in closer.
Seeming to understand just how dead serious Gareth was, Rick amended himself accordingly, "There are guns in it. AK-47's… a .357 Magnum… automatic weapons, a sniper rifle with a night scope and a machete with a red handle." His gaze hardened, "That's what I going to use to kill you."
Gareth smiled smugly before he reached over to put Rick's gag back in place, making it clear what he thought of such a threat.
"You see? Was that so hard?" He stood up and put his knife away before addressing the two men that had been waiting out the conversation, "You two… you have three hours to get them on the hooks so we can go back to public face. I want those containers there locked down, loaded and stored appropriately. The people in 'H' car, I want them on the slab no later than nineteen thirty with no exceptions. Right now is the time to get messy but we need to dial it all back by sundown. Oh, and I expect your shot count on my desk at that time Josh, no excuses. Do either of you have any questions?"
"No sir." Both men said in unison.
Gareth left them to their own devices as he strode from the room. Owen seemed more than happy too see him go if only so he could mutter the world 'Asshole' under his breath and pick back up where he had left off.
He turned to face his companion. "What you waiting on? You heard what the man said!"
Sighing, Josh wound the bat up... tapping it repeatedly to the back of Daryl's head to again line up his swing.
With the hellish cycle of waiting finally coming to an end, Daryl was as ready as he was going to be for it. Visions of Beth and their time together at the barn inundated his mind and he tensed in regret for what could've been...
A massive explosion suddenly rocked at the buildings foundation, immediately shattering the windows above to send shards of glass raining down on all of them. The walls shook in the aftermath as the booming sound of it reverberated throughout the room. With his ears ringing from it, Daryl inadvertently hit the ground as Glenn fell on top of him, unable to help himself as they all went careening into each other.
"What the fuck was that?!" Josh shouted over the gun fire that could be heard starting up outside.
Owen pulled his walkie and frantically pressed the button on it to open a line, "Gareth?! Gareth! What's going on?! Anyone! Come in!"
When the channel came back as nothing but static, the two men started arguing with each other about what they should do next. With both of them distracted, Daryl covertly indicated for Rick to look down and see the wooden stake he had hidden up his sleeve. As if intuitively reading his mind, Rick rolled over and let him use it to saw at the zip ties that bound his hands together. The moment he was freed, he took the stake for himself and surged to his feet, attacking Owen from behind to bury the jagged piece of wood deep in his neck.
Josh looked on as his co-worker fell to the floor, seemingly surprised by this unexpected turn of events. He was left begging for his life as he was advanced upon as well. Rick stabbed him repeatedly in the chest, each blow sinking in with very little regard and absolutely no remorse. The floor was covered in blood by the time he was done and he stood there panting in the thick of it until he was sure that both men were dead. Grabbing a knife from the rooms prep table, he rushed back over to free them from where they all lay sprawled out on the ground waiting for him.
Another explosion tore violently through the compound. Steadying himself from its aftershock, Daryl yanked off his gag and hauled Bob to his feet. The screams of the living joined the groans of the dead as more gun fire joined the fray outside.
Glenn ran over to the prep table to find a weapon of his own. Picking one out he asked frantically, "Are those bombs?!"
"Christ! It sounds like a damn war out there!" Daryl barely had time to duck as a stray bullet whizzed in through one of the broken windows.
He ran over and grabbed a knife from the table himself before following Rick and the others out of the room.
Daryl brought up the rear as they all ran down the hallway, more thankful than he could say to have made it out of there alive. That they all had was a miracle... or as damn near close to one as any of them could ever hope to get. For a moment it hadn't felt like it was going to work out that way... for a moment there, the situation had spiraled so dangerously close to the wire that he had been this fucking close to pissing himself.
The nightmares induced by that room were undoubtedly going to haunt him for years. Not wanting to give them the head start they didn't need, Daryl purposely emptied his head of them so he could focus what was left of his fortitude on finding Beth.
From where he was up ahead, Rick ground to a halt as he came across a large processing room located just off of the main hallway. They all hesitantly went inside to see racks upon racks of human meat hanging on the hooks Gareth had spoken of, all of them lined up in a blood drenched rows. The prep tables beneath each one held the discarded parts that hadn't been deemed necessary for whatever reason - hearts, spleens, entrails and such. Daryl looked around in complete and utter shock, having not thought that this hell could get any worse. Bob began dry retching from behind him and it gave him the incentive he needed to snap to and do what needed to be done.
"You come across any of these people, you kill 'em." Rick bit out, meaning it. "Don't hesitate."
Daryl picked up an abandoned crow bar laying nearby and began searching through the aisles, looking for anything that could potentially devastate his world. Every table was scanned despite his revulsion as he dug around for the slightest trace of blonde hair or pale skin.
"What... the hell are... you doing, man?" Bob managed to croak out past his own gag reflex.
"Beth's here." Daryl growled, using the bar in his hand to lift what was left of a broken rib cage. "I ain't leavin' 'til I find her."
"Beth?!" Glenn exclaimed as he stepped back over in disbelief, "She's with you? Since when?"
He didn't get a chance to answer as gunfire was heard at the back door. Running over to check the state of the situation outside, Glenn quickly peered through the window.
"There's walkers everywhere!" He rushed to say, "The fence is breached! They're fighting back but there's too many of them. We've got to get out of here..."
Relieved to have discovered nothing amongst the rotting body parts, Daryl went to go over and assess the situation for himself when Rick grabbed his arm in passing. "That doesn't mean just us. Carl, Michonne, Sasha… Maggie… they're all here... locked up in 'A' car. None of us are leaving if we don't do this together."
The odds of finding the rest of the group here as well were almost too astronomical to be believed and Daryl only had time to nod in acknowledgment of it before the urgency of the moment abruptly took over. He followed Bob outside as a barrage of constant gunfire was heard all around them. Multiple fires burned all over the place and the dark smoke that billowed from them filled the air, making visibility difficult. Hugging at his bruised ribs, Daryl squinted against it as it immediately stung at his eyes. He pressed his back to the wall as Rick peered around the corner.
"How are we doing this?" Bob asked nervously from next to him. He looked as though he had just realized that the knife he was bringing to the gun fight was not going to suffice.
Rick glanced over his shoulder. "We get to the train car an' free the others! It's all that matters!"
"What about the other prisoners… the other trains?" The concern was apparent in Glenn's tone.
"We'll let 'em out but they're on their own. Our group's the priority… Maggie… Beth… Carl. We are leaving."
With that said, they all rushed in… killing everything that stood in their path. Human... walker... it didn't matter... all fell to the wayside to be forgotten in their wake. Although he was mentally and physically depleted, Daryl fought like his very life depended on it. As he did so he scanned the face of everyone he came across for what he was praying not to see. Maybe Beth was locked up safe with her sister... maybe she wasn't here at all...
They picked up the guns of the fallen as they went, emptying the mags only to need to pick up more. He made sure to use his strategically as he took out all that opposed him. The alley in front of the train cars was inundated with walkers and him, Bob and Glenn all stepped in to cover Rick as he unlocked the coupling on the first one.
"C'mon! We're fighting our way out!" He yelled as Carl jumped out to greet him. He was immediately followed by Maggie, Michonne, Sasha and four other people that Daryl didn't know, two men and two women. They all came out swinging as they quickly entered the fray.
Daryl looked inside the car to see that it was empty and his shoulders fell for not having what he wanted come to fruition. Shaking it off, he turned around to find Maggie staring at him. "Yeah, it's me…" Was all he had time to say before she jumped into his arms with a cry.
He set her back on her feet before urging her to go with the others, knowing that they didn't have much time. The whole compound was minutes away from being completely over taken. He took off in the opposite direction, dodging both walkers and gunfire as he ran to the other train cars. Glenn was right behind him as they both started unlatching each one as fast as they could, flinging the doors open only to rush on to the next.
A mass of screaming people soon joined the madness… men, women and children of all ages. They made a chaotic situation that much more so as they drew unwanted attention to themselves. Many were as gaunt as the walkers that converged on them as they scattered to the wind, searching for their own way out. Daryl purposely ignored them all as he opened the last car with baited breath, wanting more than anything for her to be in it...
The damn thing was empty.
Glenn looked over to see another section of the fence fall and he grabbed at his arm, "We gotta go! Now!"
Daryl yanked himself away, fear and desperation making him reckless. "Nah! I done told ya I ain't leaving' an' I meant it!"
"She's not here! Let the walkers clear this place out and we'll come back and sweep it properly! All of us!"
Not wanting to hear it, Daryl struggled against him hard as he was pushed towards the fence. Gareth suddenly appeared on the roof above them to rain down a hail of gunfire at their feet and they both sprung apart just as Bob and Sasha stepped in to cover them. One of them managed to peg the bastard in the shoulder and he fell back with a yell, providing the small window of opportunity they needed to climb over the fence themselves and jump down its other side.
Daryl was now beside himself enough to leave Glenn behind and he ran ahead to where Rick was storming away, bypassing both Carl and Michonne to catch up to him and say, "I'm goin' back in! Ya comin' with me or what?!"
Completely out of breath, he stood there panting as the deputy sheriff knelt on the ground to start digging in the dirt. He pulled a large blue bag out of the hole he had made and opened it up to show a cache of guns. "Yeah, I'm coming... but first we finish what they started."
"What the hell are you talkin' about, man?" The large red headed man who had gotten out with them barked over in disbelief, "We barely got out by the skin of our balls. I ain't goin' back in there!"
Daryl was about step in and tell him he could do with his unwanted opinion when Rick looked over to say assertively, "They don't get to live. We go back along the fence line with the rifles and kill the rest of 'em."
"What! Why?!" Confusion made Sasha's voice a lot more high pitched than it needed to be, "We only just got out of there alive! The place is on fire! It's over!"
Rick wasn't having it and the rigid set of his shoulders said as much. "It's not over… not until they're dead."
Maggie stepped forward to be a calmer voice of reason, "Rick, the fences are down. It's suicide. They'll either run or they'll die."
Daryl gritted his teeth in frustration, realizing that they were doing nothing but waste time by standing there and debating it. "It don't fuckin' matter! Both is more than what they deserve." He bit out as he took the loaded gun that was being handed to him, "Y'all can do what ya want. I ain't giving 'em that option!"
No longer having the time, patience or inclination to explain himself further, Daryl stalked away knowing full well that Rick would follow. Besides Beth, he was the only one that mattered anyway. The two of them would go back in and tear the whole damn place apart by themselves if they had to.
With only his own determined conviction urging him on, Daryl stormed back towards Terminus. The people there had no idea of who it was they had just fucked with. If any of them were still alive to account for it, they better hope he found what he was looking for or else they were going to find out.
...
What, another chapter so soon? Oh yeah! I usually wouldn't post for another week or two but I thought I'd surprise you! I hope you enjoyed it! If so, please leave a comment or review and as always, thanks for reading!