Chapter Thirty-Nine
Carol froze, the field glasses seemingly glued to her eyes. She'd seen everything, and it was all she could do to hold herself together in front of the kids. "Sophia, Carl … the two of you are on watch until someone can relieve you. What does that mean?" she asked, moving to stand next to the ladder.
"We're not to leave our post until someone comes …" Carl was quick to respond. "Not for any reason."
"We stay focused on our surroundings and call out to the others if we see something," Sophia answered.
"And we make sure we don't shoot anyone mistaking them for a walker?" Carl snickered.
Carol would have laughed if she wasn't all too aware of what was going on at the barn. "Yes. I'll be back as soon as I can." She scurried down the ladder, not missing the worried look on her daughter's face, but Sophia didn't take her duties lightly, and she knew the children would remain at their post. "Dale," she called, "please keep an eye on them." She broke out into a run before he could reply, but she was sure he'd do as she asked.
*.*.*
Hershel looked as if he were going into shock as Otis crumpled to his knees and collapsed in the dirt. Rick and Shane dropped down beside the big man and checked his wound as Daryl went over to the sprawled walkers and gave them a good kick to make sure they were indeed dead while Jimmy wrung his straw hat in his hands.
"No!" Shane cried in stunned disbelief. "This wasn't supposed to happen." Anyone looking at the man could tell how truly remorseful he was. Otis might have been responsible for Shane's accident, but he was a good man.
He tried to smile up at the deputy. "N-Not your fault. It was going to happen sooner or later with having to deal with these things. Is Hershel alright?" he asked, more worried about the man he'd served all these years than himself.
"I'm here, Otis," Hershel said, kneeling by his head.
Otis nodded and gripped Shane's hand. "Please, man. Please don't let me turn into one of those things. I don't want to … Patricia," he wept brokenly. "I can't hurt her!"
"Oh, my god, how did this happen?" Carol asked as her sprint ended at the barn. "Has he really been bitten?"
Daryl pulled her to the side, and she didn't fail to notice the disgust and barely-veiled fury behind his eyes. "Lead broke, and it took a chunk out of him before I could fire," he growled, clearly disgusted with himself. His lips brushed her ear. "This is some crazy shit, Carol, an' now that man is gonna die."
"We need to get him to the house … make him as comfortable as possible in the time he has left," Carol said gently, sadness clouding her features. "He needs to be with his family."
She laid a restraining hand on Shane's shoulder as he moved to help lift the man to his feet, her eyes swinging to Daryl in an unspoken ask for assistance. He and Rick had no trouble getting Otis on his feet and moving towards the old house.
It was a slow trek, Otis's strength failing him. Patricia came out of the house to meet them, showing remarkable courage as she helped them to an empty bedroom as tears streamed over her ashen cheeks. Maggie hurried to get her father's kit, and Carol took charge to clean and bandage the wound. Patricia administered an oral painkiller to her husband. There was no need for him to suffer unduly as the end neared.
Carol, her work done, inched towards the door, leaving Patricia and the Greene sisters to stand vigil. It all painfully reminded her of Jim, and the pain the poor man had suffered towards the end. At least Otis would be surrounded by his family. She closed the door quietly behind her, angry, raised voices drawing her down the hall towards the foyer. The first thing she noticed was Daryl's absence. She wasn't surprised. He wouldn't want to get himself involved in their petty squabbles, but she knew he wouldn't be far. She didn't feel the need to intrude on them either, but it was hard to miss their conversation.
"You had no right to do what you did," Hershel hissed, pointing a long finger in Shane's direction. "What I do on my land has nothing to do with you people."
Carol could see the pain behind Shane's dark eyes and she truly felt bad for him. She knew his only motivation had been his desire to protect them all.
"It was an accident," Rick tried to reason with their host.
"You can't think I meant for that to happen!" Shane protested loudly. "I wanted to protect everyone … everyone on this farm. What if they'd gotten out and massacred the lot of us?" He looked tortured as he raked a hand through his hair. "Your daughters?"
Hershel gnashed his teeth as he tried to get ahold of himself. "You are dangerous and reckless," he spat. "I don't care what drove you to start shooting like that, but I'm not going to have it. I want all of you off of my farm … now!"
"We can't," Rick said, his eyes pleading with the man. "We need to stay. You don't know what it's like out there!"
"I don't care!"
"My wife is pregnant. If you send us out there, you're handing her a death sentence!"
Shane staggered back a step, his lips parting in shock. Before he could say anything, Carol left her spot next to the wall, and approached him. "Shane, come with me, please," she commanded gently, tugging lightly at his arm.
"Carol, I –"
"You're bleeding. Come with me and let me check your wound." She gave him a pointed look, and though he didn't want to go anywhere, he felt compelled to follow her to the kitchen.
Shane allowed her to drag him away, and sat in one of the ladderback kitchen chairs as she reached for the first aid kit housed under the sink. He kept glancing towards the back door, wanting to rush out and make Lori confirm Rick's shocking statement, but he couldn't get his legs to move.
Carol lifted his shirt off and set it on the table, frowning at his wound. "You've popped two stitches," she murmured disapprovingly. "It's not bad, though. I think a few butterfly strips should hold you."
She went about cleaning it with disinfectant and applied some antibiotic ointment before he had regained his wits. Hershel had him on antibiotics for another few days. He'd be fine if he would just take it easy. "Is she really pregnant? Lori?"
Carol sighed and nodded.
"You knew?" he asked. He didn't sound surprised at all, more resigned than anything. "Of course, you knew."
Carol shrugged. "She needs someone she can confide in, Shane."
He watched her closely as she closed his wound with the strips and handed him his shirt, so he could put it back on. "Thanks, Carol." He laid a warm hand over hers as she moved to put the supplies back into the kit. "Do you know … d'you know if it's mine?"
He was devastated by the news, and even though she'd never been close to him before, her heart ached for him. "No. And neither does she." She sighed heavily. "Let it go … just for now," she added when he opened his mouth to protest. "There's no way to do a paternity test, and it'll only cause more strife between the three of you if you confront her. She's made her choice, and you have to respect that."
Shane dropped his head into his hands. "I'm never going to be able to fix this. First Lori and Rick, and now Otis. I swear I don't know how everything got so out of control."
Carol bit her lip and then made a choice. She wasn't going to blame him for bad decisions when they were all guilty of them from time to time. She pulled him into a friendly hug. "It'll be ok as long as you don't give up. It wasn't your fault what happened to Otis. He and Jimmy shouldn't have been hiding them in the barn to begin with. Something was bound to happen."
He sat back heavily in the chair. "I lost my head."
"And now you have it back. You just have to try to hold back on that temper if something like this happens again," she advised gently. "You can't give up, Shane. We need you."
"Y'all have Rick and Daryl. Maybe I should leave like Hershel wants."
"We're stronger together. You go out there by yourself, and you won't last a week." It was her turn to reach out to him, covering his hand with her own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let yourself heal, and then I want you to do something for me."
One dark brow arched in askance. "What's that?" he asked, his lip curling up on one side in a half moon grin. He was just as helpless as the rest of them when it came to Carol's compassion and sweet charm.
"I want you to find your reason."
"What?"
"I want you to find the one thing that still makes you want to get up every morning and fight to live another day. Every one of us has one, Shane. I want you to find yours."
He couldn't help but return her smile, feeling a little better. "What's yours?"
Her features softened, and her smile was contagious. "Sophia and Daryl … and Merle too. My family. They're my reason."
*.*.*
. The late afternoon sun warmed the hunter where he sat on the back porch whittling away at the bolt he was making. He groaned as he watched Lori Grimes stalking across the yard in his direction. The woman had woken a little after lunch time, screeching like a wet hen when her son had told her what had transpired out by the barn. She'd been outraged Rick hadn't come to her to tell her himself. He shook his head. Them two got issues. She was further enraged when Hershel had gone missing and Rick and Glenn had left for town to bring him back. He couldn't blame the old man. If a member of his family were lying on their deathbed, he'd want to head for the bar too. He'd probably never come up out of the bottle if it were one of his girls.
A half smile crept onto his lips as he listened to Carol hum, her sweet voice wafting through the open storm door. It blended well with the children as they sat playing a game of Old Maid from a deck Beth had given them. They wanted to be near Carol as she prepared dinner. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, the events at the barn had spooked them. It was also one of the reasons he was sitting on the porch. He didn't want his girls far from his sight. Carl either, for that matter. The little shit was starting to grow on him. Especially since he seemed joined at the hip with Sophia.
"Daryl, can I ask you a favor?" Lori asked, stopping at the bottom of the steps and crossing her arms over her chest.
She looked uncomfortable with her request. He stared at her blankly, keeping his face impassive until he heard what she had to say. He simply arched a brow as he continued working on the bolt.
"I was wondering if you'd mind running into town to bring back my husband. They've been gone a while and I'm worried. They should've been back by now."
He lifted his eyes up to meet hers. She was wearing that Queen Bitch look which Merle had hated so much. Like she was better than them, and it never failed to get his back up. "Nope."
"What? Why not?"
Daryl's eyes narrowed on her. "Not your errand boy, woman, an' I ain't your bitch. I'm sure Shane would be happy t' do your bidding, but he's still healin'. Rick asked me t' keep an eye on things while he was gone, an' I sure as hell wouldn't up an' leave Carol an' Soph here alone." He leaned forward a little, his lip curling into a sneer. "Why don'tcha have a lil' faith in your husband?"
"What's going on?" Carol asked from the doorway, two bowls of the stew she'd made balanced in her hand.
Lori looked upset, but she didn't want to worry her friend. "Nothing. Just worried about Rick."
"Dinner's ready if you want to go in and eat with the children."
"Thanks." Lori brushed past her with a nod, disappearing into the kitchen.
Carol handed one of the bowls to Daryl and then sat down on the step just below him, leaning back against the hand rail. He glanced at her sheepishly as he devoured the flavorful stew. She'd even made rice with it to make sure it stretched enough to feed everyone. "You really shouldn't be so mean to her, Daryl."
He grunted. "Don't like her."
"Why?"
"Because she's a manipulative bitch," he scowled down at her. "She's always naggin' Rick about some shit. Like she ain't got no faith in 'er man t' keep us safe." Daryl set his empty bowl down next to him and pulled her back into the vee of his legs to rest his chin on her shoulder. "Th' man was a cop. He's done good for us so far. Long as he does, we'll stick with him."
Her shoulder shook with laughter beneath his chin. "Daryl Dixon, did you make a friend of our fearless leader?"
"Shut up," he growled. His lips grazed her neck, sending her amused chuckles fleeing as she nestled back into his embrace to watch the sun set over the forest.
*.*.*
It was well after dark. Lori and the kids had taken food out to Dale, Andrea and T-Dog while Carol tried to coax the Greene girls and Patricia to eat. None of them had had much of an appetite. Shane held his own vigil outside of Otis's sickroom. He'd made a promise to the big man not to let him turn. The women inside wouldn't have the stomach for it, and he still felt guilty over his actions. He'd keep his promise.
Daryl's hawk-like stare kept watch over the grounds as far as he could see under the bright moonlight. Though he didn't care for Lori, he felt the children would be safe with her for the night. He needed to remain on watch, and Carol wanted to be inside if Maggie, Patricia or Beth needed her. He sighed deeply as he made another circuit of the porch, his crossbow resting comfortably along his right forearm. His woman was brimming with compassion, and a deep-seated love for those she regarded as her family, her friends. She's too damn trusting. They would walk all over her given half the chance. He was determined to make sure that didn't happen, but he had to rein in his temper. He wouldn't crush her spirit as Ed had done. He needed to let her continue to be herself, to let her help as she saw fit. Why's shit gotta be so fuckin' hard?
He turned quickly, his feet carrying him swiftly into the yard as Hershel's dated Chevy pulled up to the house. The Cherokee was nowhere in sight, but he relaxed a little when both Glenn and Rick exited the vehicle. Hershel got out of the back, and helped the others remove a stranger from the back seat.
"Th' fuck is this?" he growled, his eyes taking in the gaping wound in the kid's leg. Daryl shouldered the crossbow and moved to help get the newcomer inside.
"This is Randall," Rick grunted as he grabbed one of the kid's legs.
"We kinda ran into some trouble in town," Glenn explained.
"What kinda trouble?" the archer asked, narrowing his eyes. "The kind that's gonna follow y' back here?"
No one felt the need to answer that loaded question.
They steadily made their way up the steps to the porch where Carol waited with the screen door open. "Who is that? Was he bitten?" she asked, leading the way down the hall to the bedroom Daryl had spent a few days in, recovering from his wounds.
"Here, lay him down," Hershel barked. "Carol, can you please grab my kit from my office. I don't want to disturb the girls."
Carol hurried from the room. Daryl backed away as Hershel scrubbed his hands in the bathroom next door and Rick cut the boy's pants leg away from the wound. "We met up with some unfriendlies at the bar," Rick said as he backed away to stand with his back against the wall. "We had to fight our way out."
"Walkers?" Daryl asked, chewing nervously at his thumbnail.
Glenn shook his head as Hershel and Carol came back into the room. "Carol, would you assist?"
Her eyes widened, and she shot an anxious glance at Daryl, but then her spine stiffened, and she nodded. Hershel doused the wound with alcohol, but the boy didn't make a sound, having passed out when they pulled him off the wrought iron fence where he'd been trapped. "What if he wakes up?" she asked, eyeing the kid.
Rick dug in the pouch at the back of his belt and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He clapped one on the boy's wrist and the other to the bedpost. "There. He's not going anywhere."
"Fine," Hershel huffed, never having had to do surgery on a prisoner before. He wondered briefly what his life had become because of this group. "Carol, we're going to need an IV."
"I've never done that," she squeaked.
"You'll do fine once I show you."
Daryl stepped out into the hall to give them space, Glenn and Rick following him. He whirled on the pair. "What th' hell? Tell me what's going on. Is he a danger to her?" he asked, nodding towards the now closed door where he'd left Carol. "Sophia?"
Rick held up a hand to forestall the redneck's formidable temper. "Daryl, clam down and let me explain."
Daryl looked between Rick and Glenn, his eyes narrowed and his chest heaving as he fought against the beginnings of an anxiety attack. He couldn't lose his shit and scare Carol. Finally, he nodded.
"We went to the bar Maggie mentioned," Glenn began, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into the wall. He was much better now they were home. "Hershel was drinking. He wasn't ready to come back with us, so we stayed."
Rick raked a hand through his short hair and paced in agitation. "These two guys showed up, said they were part of a larger group, said they were looking for others to join up with."
Daryl crossed his arms over his chest, feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. Now he knew how Carol had felt when they'd been in the CDC's hive so far underground. "I take it they weren't acceptable t' join ours, right?"
Rick shook his head. "No. They seemed off."
"Way off," Glenn added.
Daryl waved a hand at him. "Lemme guess … your cop vibe?"
"Yeah, something like that," he sighed. "I killed them."
"We'd just convinced Hershel to leave when their friends showed up. Then it got ugly," Glenn offered. "They started shooting, drew walkers. We had to fight our way out the back. We were almost to the truck when that kid dove off the roof across the street. He was trying to get to their truck, and landed on the spikes of a wrought iron fence, and his buddies left him."
Daryl glared at them both. "So, y' thought it'd be a good idea t' bring him back here where he could be a threat t' our women? Our kids? Th' fuck's wrong with you?!"
"Hershel refused to leave him, man. I didn't have a choice if I was going to persuade him to come back," Rick hissed. After what he'd done to Merle, he couldn't in good conscience repeat his mistake. Threat or not, he wouldn't leave a man behind so the walkers could feast on him.
"So now we got about two dozen assholes five miles down th' road gonna be lookin' for revenge. Ain't that peachy," he drawled. "Why didn't y' jus' post little arrow signs along th' way t' point 'em in this direction?"
Glenn dropped his hands to his side and met the redneck's furious gaze head on. "If we'd have left him, he'd have been walker bait. We don't leave people behind."
"Tell that t' m' brother!"
Rick and Glenn both had the decency to look ashamed.
Daryl rolled his head back on his shoulders and silently counted to ten before he felt his inner beast quiet down. "An' you're too fuckin' trustin', Short Round." He sighed. "So, what're we gonna do with 'im?"
Rick swiped a hand over his face. "We wait. When he recovers from his wound, we'll question him, find out more about this group. Then we'll decide what to do with him."
Daryl's lip curled in disgust. Christ! Another fuckin' charity case for his woman to fawn over. Fuckin' hell!
*.*.*
Daryl and the others had moved to the parlor next to the kitchen, the limited space in the hallway making them all a bit tetchy. The hunter paced the worn rug, chewing anxiously at his thumbnail as he pondered on how he was to keep his girls safe with an unknown on the farm. Rick already had plans to lock the boy in one of the sheds until he could be questioned, but Daryl had made up his mind. He wouldn't hesitate to put him down if he so much as looked in Carol or Sophia's direction, be damned what Rick had to say about it. He longed for his brother. Merle would have his back. He'd help watch over them all.
Carol looked tired when she emerged from the room and made her way down the hall towards them while Hershel ducked into the bathroom to wash the blood from his hands. She didn't hesitate to let Daryl pull her close to his side and wrap a comforting arm around her. "Y' a'right?"
She nodded as she stepped away. "Hershel did what he could to save Randall's calf muscle, but it's going to be at least a week before he can use that leg. We're going to have to prepare another place for him. He can't stay in the house."
"Andrea and T are already on it," Rick assured her.
"Then what?" she asked, studying his face. "Are we going to send him on his way or integrate him into the group?"
"Little bastard's caused enough trouble. We need t' get his ass out o' here as soon as possible," Daryl grumbled.
Hershel didn't say a word as he passed them on his way into the kitchen. He poured himself a tall glass of water from the tap and sat down heavily at the table.
Carol reached out and caught Rick's arm as he moved to join the farmer. "Let me talk to him?"
Rick looked down at her with a puzzled frown. "You think you can? Like you did with Jenner? He's already said we could stay, but he's not in a good place."
"I can try," she shrugged. "It can't hurt. You need to go see about Lori. She's worried for you, and it's not good for her condition. She doesn't need the added stress."
Rick hugged her and pressed his lips to her brow. "Thank you, Carol." He let her go just as quickly, not having missed the glare Daryl shot him. "I'll check in with you later."
Glenn excused himself to check in on Maggie. The boy seemed shaken up, but he was resilient, and would be just fine. It was a wakeup call for him. The world was changing rapidly. Lawlessness was quickly spreading, and men like Dave and Tony were in their element. How long before the people left on the planet lost their humanity completely?
Daryl passed through the kitchen, casting a side-eyed glance over at Hershel where the man sat with his head in his hands at the table. Carol turned the burner on under the stew to warm it, and he wrapped an arm about her waist, his lips ghosting over her ear. "Y' want me t' stay?" he whispered.
She shook her head. "No, but don't go far."
"I'll be jus' outside." With one more glance at the farmer, he pushed through the screen door onto the back porch. He didn't see Hershel as a threat, but if his woman wanted him nearby, wild horses couldn't drag him away.
While she was waiting for the stew to heat, Carol made a pot of coffee. She was flagging, longing for her bed, but she didn't want to pass up the opportunity to comfort the man while she could. He seemed broken, and her heart went out to him. Dishing up a bowl, she carried it over to him, and sat down next to him with her mug of coffee.
He stared down into the contents of the bowl, breathing in the flavorful aroma for a long moment before he lifted his pale blue eyes to her. "You're making it a habit of taking care of my family."
Carol took a sip of her coffee. "I enjoy it. For me, it's normal … routine. I'm not really good at anything else."
He dug into his dinner, hoping the food would settle his stomach and drive away the effects of the alcohol he'd drunk. He pointed at the belt about her waist where her weapons hung. "Something tells me that's not all you're capable of."
She shrugged, a fond smile curling her lips slightly as her hand went to the hilt of her knife. "A gift from Daryl. Some men shop at Hallmark, mine shops at Guns and Ammo. He's adamant about us being able to defend ourselves. If it weren't for him, Sophia never would have survived those days lost in the woods."
Hershel pushed the bowl away after a few bites, hanging his head. "I didn't want to believe him. Rick told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick. I chose not to believe that."
Carol reached out and laid a sympathetic hand atop his own. "None of us wanted to believe it. We all hoped it was a fluke."
His eyes were tortured when they locked onto hers. "When Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept coming, that's when I knew what an ass I'd been, that Annette had been dead long ago! That's when I knew there was no hope. There is no hope for any of us."
She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "There's always hope, Hershel. Where there's life, there's hope. When it all started, there were those who succumbed to the virus, and then there were those who were bitten later. Why weren't we affected? Why didn't we die when the virus spread? Because God has a purpose for us. He wanted us to survive for a reason."
He shook his head numbly. "Our god is infinite in his mercy. Why would he spare me only to take my Annette? My stepson, Shawn?"
Carol regarded him steadily. "It isn't our place to question Him." She sighed and sat back in her chair, staring down at her fidgeting fingers where they rested on her lap. "Before Daryl, I stayed in a marriage which offered me nothing but pain and abuse. Why am I here? I've asked myself that so many times, and only one answer is plainly evident to me. God wanted me to find Daryl. He wanted us to heal one another, to find a love people only dream about. Just as I believe He led us here to find you and your family."
She took his bowl to the sink, giving him time to process everything she'd said. He got up and stood beside her to refill his water glass. "You think he led you here because of Shane?"
"And Lori. She's going to need you to help deliver that baby," she said gently. "You're needed, Hershel. God isn't finished with you yet."
Hershel swiped a hand over his face and leaned his palms on the counter. "I told Rick your group was welcome to stay. After what I saw at the barn, and later in town … I can't send you back out into that. None of you."
Carol wrapped her arms around the man's shoulders and pulled him into a warm grateful hug. "Thank you," she murmured, nearly weak with relief as she pulled away. "I'm glad it didn't come down to a fight. Rick would never be able to leave you here vulnerable."
It wasn't surprise which colored his features, but rather resignation. "Rick is a good leader. I know his conscience wouldn't have allowed him to just leave us here. I'm sure we'll be able to work together now."
"The barn …" she hedged.
"It will have to be cleared," he replied with a weary sigh. "Annette …"
She peered up at him with watery blue eyes. "They will be gentle, Hershel. Then she will be laid to rest and you can find peace." She offered him a warm smile as she turned to go, but his last question had her halting with her hand on the screen door.
"What became of your first husband, if you don't mind my asking?"
"He died in the attack on our quarry camp. Ed was in the process of trying to abduct me and Sophia while Daryl was away, and the walkers got ahold of him." She swallowed thickly. "None of us mourned his passing. He was an evil man, and the world is bad enough."
Hershel nodded. "Goodnight, Carol."
"Goodnight, Hershel."
She'd barely stepped out onto the porch when she felt Daryl's arms slip around her waist to pull her snugly against his chest. His lips slanted over hers in a tender kiss. "You're amazin'. Y' know that, right?"
She blushed under his praise, wondering if she'd ever get used to his compliments. "What I am is tired. Take me to bed?"
Daryl wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. "Hell yeah."
A/N: Next time: Daryl & Maggie clear the barn, and the group begins to train.