Notes: So close to the end! :)
Chapter Seventy-Two
(Daryl's POV)
It's too damn hot today.
He's taken out a fair few Walkers since they hit the roadside about an hour and a half ago he'd guess. Michonne just took out two more without ceremony.
"You good?"
She nods to him as she passes sword already tucked away once more. He watches her quickly moving back towards where Tyreese is syphoning gas from a mini-van so she can watch his back while he works also pulling the vehicles car battery loose.
Alright then; just one big happy family on the hot ass roadside. Would it be too much to ask for just a little breeze today, some cloud cover?
Fin is with Carl about a hundred feet away, he shifts his feet, turns so he can keep a better eye on them both; even if they're both armed and alert. It makes him feel better to keep them in sight.
Rick is walking towards him, eyes trained on Michonne's backside instead of the surrounding road as he approaches.
Daryl pretends not to notice. Scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, wiping at the sheen of sweat gathered there before shoving still too long hair out of his eyes with his fingers.
Gonna have to get Fin to cut it again; he's got nuf damn hair for a fuckin boy band and it's too damn hot for this mess.
"Hey," Rick stops, rocks on his heels for a second, glancing over his shoulder at something Daryl doesn't see.
Daryl squints up at him, wondering if the heat already cooked his brains this morning.
It's barely past noon, and still hotter than Satan's damn Doorstep on the asphalt.
"So uh, did she…" Rick pauses clears his throat, clearly keyed up over something. "Did Michonne say anything…bout me?"
Daryl's chin jerks up, eyes narrowing at Rick's expression. What the Hell?
Rick fidgets with his belt, eyes on anything but Daryl….darting towards where Michonne just went to say something to Tyreese and it suddenly dawns on him. He ducks his head to hide the twitch of his lips. Ah shit. He can't resist: this is too damn good.
Daryl straightens up, pulls his face into a scowl.
"What the Hell I look like, a fuckin school girl? This aint no damn playground. We got shit to do." He finishes pulling his crossbow string back with a satisfying click. Reloads the bolt he just yanked from some geek's forehead catching Rick's blush from the corner of his eye. He has to turn and walk away so he doesn't give himself away with his wide grin.
They start toward the rest of the group Rick keeping his eyes on the trees now. Daryl lets him fret for a minute more. They're almost back within ear shot before he speaks again, if his timing is just right, she'll hear him. It's 'bout time he had a chance to pay Rick back for some of that shit he's been given Fin and all winter.
You get caught one time and nobody lets it go.
"Hell Ole man, don't know what you so worked up 'bout; should be damn obvious. Don't need me to tell ya, girl's been staring at your ass all damn day."
Rick's blush obvious stammer when Michonne eyes them both suspiciously and asks him what the Hell is going on is gonna make this whole God Damn day in the blazing sun worth it.
:: Walking Dead ::
Rick's sweat soaked back stays just a few feet in front of him as they follow the patchy faded white line marking the edge of the road farther down the highway.
"Let's get this last section here and then we'll all head back." He nods to Rick acknowledging he's heard him and agrees.
It's way more than half-way through the heat of the day between the late start and the hours they've spent scouring the roads now but the sun is still swelteringly hot. It's blistering heat burning against the back of his neck over his shirt collar. This kind of heavy heat usually heralds the coming of one Hell of a strong thunderstorm before nightfall; nature's way of cooling off the Georgia ground just before it's so sun-soaked and scorch that all life fizzles away to nothing. The relief can't get here soon enough. The air presses against his skin suffocating with the heavy hint of too much ozone the cloying scent of magnolias thick, clogging the back of his throat; the sharp fragrance he associates with long hot summer days from his childhood coats his tongue with an overbearing aftertaste.
Fin and Carl are ahead of them a few hundred feet. He scowls, lips drawn tight. They're both armed but the distance still grates his nerves, quickens his footfalls against the hot asphalt bringing him even with Rick's heavy footfalls on the roadway.
With Michonne and Tyreese hanging back with the other vehicle to syphon the rest of the gas, and finish sifting for useful items, roughly a mile up the highway he feels more than a little strained; overexposed.
Maybe it's the heat beating down on them. Parching the back of his throat no matter how much warm water he draws in, swishes through his mouth before spitting half of it back out hoping to eliminate the plastic aftertaste it brings. He spits another mouthful to the side onto the cracked peeling dirt between the brown crackling weeds bent heavily towards the ground, listing to their sides with a non-existent breeze; weighed down by the press of the sun. Then he takes another mouthful swallowing the rest to alleviate the sandpaper scratch in his throat; offers the remaining bottle to Rick who takes it from him doing the same while he draws the back of his hand across his forehead trying to stop the ever present crawl of sweat dripping into his eyes no matter how often he swipes at his brow.
He can't wait to be done with today. Despite the lack of Walkers they've encountered the last few hours his nerves feel raw.
Tense knots lock between his shoulder blades as he follows Rick eyes alert watching more for flashes of red gold between the cars entangled ahead of them on the overpass they've stumbled across then for the ambling dead he should be focused on spotting.
"I'm going to hit the cars on that side," He nods to Rick again moves towards the first ajar door of the vehicle to his right, pausing to glance over the paint streaked half wall at the clogged underpass below, taking in the sheer volume of cars scattered there.
That's one thing about pushing out farther and farther as the months drag on looking for things the warehouse can't supply them with. Gasoline, Kerosene, bullets and other weapons… each time they branch out farther from home he feels the strain more than he ever did with the prison or Hershel's farm before that.
She's there suddenly at his side, shoving a few stray hairs back behind her ear. "I'm going to check the underpass—"
"No. Please don't."
Maybe it's the please more than the no that holds her attention, has her nodding after a quiet moment passes between them... or maybe she can feel it too. The tension heavy in the air; pressing against his skin like a wool blanket scratchy and distracting…like the summer air itself is waiting for the axe to fall.
"Okay, well hurry up here I want to check there before we head back. We need batteries."
"I'm going to check that van." She's nodding to Carl with a quick 'okay' and circling to the passenger side to rifle through the glove box blessedly staying by his side for once.
He looks up at her again when she stops searching; straightens up turning her head to stare off over the trees beside the highway face drawn and tight a few moments later.
"What is it?" He stands, leaning on the hood of the car, watching her.
She looks distracted, distant and tense. "I don't know…" She won't meet his eyes; turns away to press her hands against the concrete barrier separating her from an 18 foot drop onto car strewn the pavement below. He waits while she leans carefully over the edge staring down, eyes sweeping the tree line on either side of the woods for the source of their shared unease.
"Seraphim."
"We need to go, Now."
There's an urgency to her tone he doesn't hear often, it only means one thing. Certain Danger.
His feet are following her to the edge of the highway, gaze searching for whatever it is that's making her breath so hard, hand locking around his arm trying to drag his attention from the empty road below.
"We have to go!"
"What is it?"
"Walkers!" He's turning as they move back toward Rick, but the road is empty, the tree line too…but she's suddenly running so he follows, he's never known her to be wrong, wouldn't risk it even if he thought she were.
"Rick!" He's gotten his attention just as he sees the first few Walkers ambling out of the trees stumbling up the incline to their right. She's not even glancing at them, is stopped in the middle of the asphalt again, spinning as she searches for something… she's jerking the Walkie off her hip, still spinning around she barks his name into the small plastic box at the same time he realizes who's missing.
"Carl! Where are you! Carl!"
There's a burst of heavy static while his heart pounds against his chest and Rick stands moving beside them as they back up the highway away from the dead stumbling through the trees onto the roadway.
"I'm on the underpass, I found batt—"
"Carl! Walkers! Hide now!"
And that isn't right either. Sets off clanging warning bells in his head, prickles the skin at the back of his neck turning his skin cold and clammy despite the roaring sun searing him just moments before; because by his count there's only about 20 of them and they've handled worse before.
Between all the arrows she's packing and his, she shouldn't be pale as she is especially in this heat…
Then she's grabbing his hand and Rick's all but dragging them both despite the size difference between them not towards the truck they rode here in but towards an abandoned camper parked diagonally on two dry-rotted busted wheels across the desolate road.
She starts climbing the ladder against its rear windshield. He can only guess that maybe she's looking for the height advantage; trying to see Carl below them despite telling him to hide; maybe she plans to go get him if there are Walkers below them as well.
Knots twist in his gut, tightening at that thought.
He follows Rick right on his hells all of them breathing hard with the searing heat that won't let them be and a healthy mix of fear.
"Michonne! Tyreese! Get off the Highway!" Her voice is frantic, clipped and agitated while she paces up and down the side of the camper roof still staring at the tree line not on the overpass but underneath where he can see Carl's outline moving between the cars; trying to get back to them quickly.
She's cursing in tandem with Rick's tight tenor. All but screaming into the walkie in her hand. "Carl! Hide Now!"
And he's about to ask her what the Hell she's so upset when they pour out of the trees surrounding the underpass. They stumble from the shade of the tree line like a curtain of solid bodies; a wave of ants pressed tight shoulder to shoulder…one giant stumbling mass of bodies hundreds thick; maybe thousands and he can't hear anything anymore, not her screaming into that stupid black plastic box or Rick yelling or the Walkers on the highway beside them snarling and waving their arms, trying to grab their ankles from where they stand just over their heads…barely out of reach.
Carl's seen them now. He's running up the road toward the overpass is trying to find a car to climb inside but it's too late; he realizes he'll never make it... not with that many of them still spilling out of the trees staggering between the long dead cars on the roadway ambling after him because they've seen him and even if he can get inside a vehicle now they'll only bust the glass trying to reach him; overwhelm any vehicle he might find temporary refuge inside… and it won't matter how many arrows they have because they can't stop that many. No one can they only thing they can do is run and that means abandoning Carl to die.
When they catch up to him moving in from the side and behind him overwhelming him he can't do anything but hold Rick to the roof of the Camper so they don't lose them both while their whole world implodes to the deafening soundtrack of snarls and pounding feet and Rick's screams and then she's leaning into him pressing three words to his ear that stop his heart cold; and it's his turn to scream, trying frantically to snatch her arm; stop her- while still keeping ahold of Rick and he's too late fingers closing over open air...
and then she's gone.
:: Walking Dead ::