Chapter Forty-Six

A/n: Sorry I wasn't able to post yesterday. I was out most of the day at a funeral (my husband's dear aunt passed away) and I was exhausted when I got home. So, here it is, my darlings. Hope you enjoy!

Rick yawned and rubbed at the knot of tension at his nape as he swung a leg up into the loft and approached Shane where he was standing in the open bay doors, the rifle slung across his back. "Hey, man," he called softly, his steps muffled across the hay.

Shane turned and gave him a stiff nod. "Rick. S'matter? Couldn't sleep?" he asked neutrally. Things were getting better between them. Well, as long as they ignored the glaring question between them as to who was the father to Lori's baby. Rick had every claim to it, being her husband, and there was little Shane could do without a paternity test to fight him on it. What he could do was be there for the babe, keep it safe and make sure he or she had a chance to grow up.

The morning light was just beginning to tint the horizon in hues of violet and pink. "Lots to do today. I thought Beth and Sophia were relieving you this morning."

Shane yawned and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Another hour or so and they'll be along."

Rick grimaced, hating the strain between them. Shane had been his best friend, his partner. He'd risked his life to save Lori and Carl; had even tried to get him out of that hospital to take him with them, and now they couldn't even have a conversation. He had to find some way to let it go, to put it behind him and move forward.

"Think the women will be able to finish up packing supplies today? We're leaving with the Dixons tomorrow morning, right?" the deputy asked.

Rick nodded. "Yeah. The packing needs to be finished and the livestock needs to be locked up. Hershel says there should be enough feed to leave for them until we can get back this way."

Shane swiped a hand over his face, trying to banish some of the fatigue plaguing him. "Man, there's no guarantee there's even going to be anything left standing. If it is, this place isn't gonna be easy to fortify. It's just so big."

"I made Hershel a promise, though. We have to at least come back to make sure."

"We're going to need fuel. We can't just leave and hope to get far on the fumes we got in the vehicles," he said.

Rick leaned against the opposite wall and stared out over the verdant farmland. "I was thinking about that. When we were in town last week, Glenn pointed out a few of the buildings on Main Street. One was a little corner gas station. There was a fuel truck parked out front. There's a good chance that group Randall was with could've drained the truck, but the main fuel tanks of the store could still be full. There'd be more than enough to fill our tanks and the extra cans we have on hand."

"That's a good idea," Shane agreed. "Should be a lot easier than trying to siphon on the highway. You gonna put together a run team?"

"Yeah. I wanted to talk to Daryl about it. See who he thinks should go." He frowned. "He and Carol didn't come in from their shift last night. Any idea where I can find him?"

Shane grinned and pointed to the other side of the loft about halfway down where a pile of blankets was next to the wall. "Carol was already asleep when I came to relieve them last night. Daryl climbed in with her when I got here."

"Thanks." Rick couldn't help but smile as he neared the pair. Carol was lying on her back, dead to the world with Daryl sprawled across her, his head buried under the blanket and one bare foot peeking from beneath the quilt.

"What? No coffee?" Daryl asked as he rolled onto his side and sat up, making sure not to pull the quilt off of his wife. "What kinda friend are y', huh?" He'd been awake since Rick had climbed the ladder, having heard the man's failed attempts to be quiet. He could have gotten up, but had been reluctant to leave the warm nest he shared with Carol.

Rick chuckled. "Patricia was just starting a pot when I came out here. Sorry."

Daryl waved him off as Carol snorted softly and rolled onto her side, slinging her arm around his waist and burying her face in his hip. "Is it time to get up?"

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Only if y' want t', woman." His gaze found Rick's in the pre-dawn light. "So, what's up? Y' ready t' get started with what we gotta do today?"

Rick settled down on his haunches, twisting a piece of straw between his fingers. "Shane and I were talking. I think we need to make a run into town for fuel. It'll be easier than trying to find it out on the road, y'think? There's a gas station I believe might have enough for our vehicles."

"A'right," Daryl nodded, chewing the inside of his lip. "Who's goin'?"

Their leader shrugged noncommittally. "You, me, Glenn, Maggie and T? I figured the five of us could handle it easily."

The hunter's eyes narrowed. "An' Carol. She goes with me, Rick." He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate if she was left behind. Sophia had watch, and would be safely tucked away in the loft until they returned.

"Daryl …" she groaned, blinking up at him. "I need to help with the packing."

"Y' heard me, Carol. 'Sides, it'll do y' good t' have some run experience. Put all those new skills t' use. Y' ain't gonna learn otherwise," he said definitively.

"You don't think at least one of Sophia's parents need to be here for her?" she argued.

He shook his head. "If she had free time where she had a chance t' get into some kinda trouble, then yeah. But she's gonna be on watch. Y' know our girl ain't gonna leave her post. We need t' show 'er we trust her."

Rick rose to his feet as Carol rolled over and reached for her boots. "Great. Looks like we're going to town."

*.*.*

Daryl's eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror to watch the caravan following behind them. He and Carol were in the lead, sitting cozily on the bench seat in his old truck. Rick followed in Hershel's suburban, Glenn and Maggie in the Hyundai, and T-Dog brought up the rear in Patricia's blue pick-up. He was hoping everything went smoothly in town on their fuel run, but a prickle of unease hummed below his skin. Carol would be exposed to danger, and the others would be putting their new skills to use if they ran into any walker activity. If they failed, it would be on his shoulders since he'd been responsible for their training so far.

"Stop worrying, Pookie," Carol said softly, interrupting his reverie as she twined her fingers with his. "It's going to be fine."

"Pfft," he scoffed. "Y' clairvoyant now or somethin'?"

"Well, I'm not going into this thinking the worst. I'm going to trust in everything you've taught us," she said with an air of confidence she hadn't had even a month ago.

He chewed anxiously on his lower lip, his brows drawing together darkly. "Don't get cocky, woman," he warned. "When we get there, y' need t' stay close t' me. No more than ten feet, y' hear? Weapons hot, safety off. Y' keep your eyes an' ears open an' don't even think about takin' any unnecessary chances."

"Daryl –"

"No! Y' don't 'Daryl' me in that tone! I want y' t' listen t' what I say."

Carol sighed, feeling the slight tremor in his hand. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles and shot him a serious look. "You are my partner, Daryl. I will defer to you … I promise." She felt him relax just a bit as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Baby … you've got to stop worrying so much. You realize I can get into trouble no matter where I am … even if I'm standing right next to you. You can't let your fear make you careless. You have to trust me to keep myself safe."

Daryl clenched his teeth. He knew what she was saying was true. He was letting himself panic over nothing. Just the thought of losing her prayed heavily on his every waking moment. It was going to cause him to slip up if he weren't careful. He had to have faith in her. "I do trust y'," he mumbled, giving her hand a squeeze. "I know y' can do it. You're th' best I got t' have m' back. Y' scared?"

"I'm nervous," she admitted. "But I trust in my new skills, and I trust in you."

"A'right. Cain't really ask more than that. Jus' remember what I said, an' stay close."

His gaze swept over Main Street as he slowed to a crawl, taking in the abandoned store fronts. Not only was he on the lookout for walkers, but any sign of Randall's old group as well. The living were more dangerous than the dead now.

Daryl pulled into the lot of the gas station, the rest of them following, parking their vehicles pointed towards the street for a quick exit. He lifted the crossbow from the bed of the truck and affixed the strap across his chest as Carol climbed out behind him. She released the clasp on her knife, ready to remove it from the sheath quickly if there was a need, and then checked both of her handguns to make sure the safety was off.

Rick signaled the others to follow him to the tanker, and Carol fell into step slightly behind Daryl to his left. He checked the gauges on the tanker trailer, but they were showing empty. "He must've abandoned his truck just after unloading."

"Either that, or he was eaten," Maggie said, wrinkling her nose.

"That ain't gonna make it easy on us," T-Dog said, setting two of the gas containers down at his feet. "What if we use the pump on the rig to pull it back into the tank and then drive it back to the farm?"

Daryl shook his head. "Pump's gonna make too much noise. It'll draw in any walkers in th' area."

Glenn frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "How're we going to get it then? I don't think the siphoning hoses are going to work. They're just not long enough."

Carol dropped to her knees and lifted up the metal cover, peering down into the underground tank. "Rick, do you remember where you left the Cherokee when you drove it to town last week? There's a garden hose in the back we could probably use. It's longer than the siphoning hoses and it should work under the same premise, right, Daryl?"

The hunter grinned. Leave it to her ingenuity to pull them up out of a pit of uncertainty. "Should work."

Rick nodded at Glenn. "You and Maggie go. Be safe and stick together," he instructed. "Carol, we're going to fetch the gas cans from the trucks. Why don't you climb up on top of the tanker to keep watch? You should be able to see anything coming from up there."

Daryl nodded approvingly at Rick. The man seemed to sense Daryl's apprehension where Carol's safety was concerned, and this was a good way to provide them a lookout and keep her out of harm's way at the same time.

Within twenty minutes, Maggie and Glenn had returned with the garden hose and Daryl had it in the tank and pumping out the fuel into the gas cans. The four of them took turns running them back to the vehicles and filling the tanks. Once they were full, they concentrated on filling the cans to bring back to the farm to fill up the RV and have some extra on hand.

Carol paced atop the tanker, her sharp eyes making a circuit of their surroundings. She knew she had to be vigilant. Adrenaline already pumped harshly through her body. It was a risk to be away from the farm. Which was why she had to fight for a breath when she saw the dozen or so walkers amble out onto Main Street from a side alleyway.

"Daryl!" she hissed, keeping her voice low, but loud enough for him to hear. "We might need to wrap this up … now!" She pointed in the direction she'd seen them, and she could see her husband tighten with tension.

"Rick, finish these three cans. We got this," he said, his body eager with anticipation for the fight. "Carol, you're with me." He looked back at the others. He could tell they were ready to show off what they could do. T-Dog rolled his big head on his neck, the muscles in his arms bunching as he released the machete from his belt.

The geeks had already scented them, quickening their pace to the fresh meat which had stumbled into their midst. Carol zipped her jacket and withdrew her knife. Glenn and Maggie were geared with their own. Daryl led the charge, taking out the first with his crossbow, the arrow zinging softly through the air to take out the one in front. Carol, to his left, thrust out her hand, knocking one back before thrusting her knife beneath the chin as it bounced back towards her. Glenn and Maggie were just behind them, each confronting their own while keeping their backs to one another. T, bringing up the rear, trusted the others to have his own back and worked on two coming at him, arm's outstretched. He pushed one back as Daryl had trained him, and took out its partner before it could regain its balance to meet his blade.

Within minutes, the combatants were splattered with thick black blood and walkers littered the street around them. Rick stared at them in amazement. "That was incredible," he remarked, stunned by what he'd witnessed. It was their training lessons amped up to the tenth power. "Daryl, what you've accomplished … Man, there's no words."

Carol beamed at her husband as his left hand slipped into her right, his ears tinted a fiery red under their leader's praise. He ducked his head for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Rick's eyes. "Y' done? 'Cause I think it'd be a good idea t' get th' hell outta here before more of 'em show up."

Rick rolled up the hose and tucked it in the back of Daryl's truck with most of the gas cans as the hunter slipped behind the wheel and prepared to roll out. Carol grinned over at him. "You just can't take a compliment, can you? Rick was rather impressed."

Daryl concentrated his gaze on the road. "I ain't done nothin' that wasn't necessary. If it keeps these people alive … that's all that matters."

"Because of you," she said earnestly. "Let yourself feel proud, Pookie. I'm proud of you."

His lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles. Her approval was all he needed.

*.*.*

"Eww, Mama, what happened to you?" Sophia asked, wide-eyed as she took a step back. She had just been about to hug her parents when she noticed the gore on their clothes. "And you smell awful." She wrinkled her nose, causing Carol to laugh.

Daryl shook his head at her. "We mighta run into a few walkers in town. Nothin' we couldn't handle, though."

"Ugh!" Carl grimaced. "Y'all need a bath."

Carol looked down at herself, more than ready to get the filth off of her. "I'd have to agree. I can't see myself working this afternoon on the packing covered in this mess." She gave Daryl a push towards the house. "And we'd better hurry if we're going to have hot water."

"I'm jus' gonna get dirty again helpin' move th' livestock," he protested.

Sophia followed them onto the porch, passing by the stacked boxes which would have to be transferred to the back of the trucks. "Yeah, but a little sweat and dirt is better than walker guts."

"Want us to grab you some clean clothes from your packs so we can wash those and get them hung?" Carl asked.

Daryl arched a brow at the boy. Carl's attitude had changed since Sophia had gotten onto him about 'women's work' being 'everyone's work' back at the CDC.

"That would be lovely, Carl. Thank you," Carol smiled down at him. "We'll leave our dirty clothes out in the hall. Sophia, just put our fresh ones on the sink, ok?"

"Sure, Mama, but when you're done … we want details. At our age, and Daddy's valiant need to protect us, we have to miss out on everything and have to live vicariously through you."

Daryl poked his head back out of the bathroom. "Merle was right … you are a brat."

The girl shrugged. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

*.*.*

Carol smiled sweetly at her husband as she stepped out onto the porch wrapped up in her quilt. "Aren't you cold?" she asked, noticing he was only wearing his vest over a thick long sleeved denim shirt. The evening was turning chilly now the sun had set. He'd opted to take watch on the front porch, Dale was atop the RV, Glenn was on the back steps and Rick was in the loft.

"Naw, I'm good," he murmured, pulling her down in the vee of his legs to sit one step below him. She settled herself with a contented hum, pressing back against his chest and wrapping her hands around his left arm, leaving the right one free for his bow should he need it. "Y' ain't tired? Y' should try t' get some rest, woman."

She couldn't deny the fatigue which pressed down heavily upon her. After their trip to town that morning, she'd come back to find the ladies had barely made a dent on the pantry. She could understand the nerves plaguing them, but it was no excuse not to get the work done. She and Patricia had gotten them organized in no time, and now the trucks were loaded and ready to leave first thing in the morning. If she were honest, she'd have to admit she felt a bit nervous herself. There was no way of knowing what they'd encounter out there on the road.

"You know I don't sleep well without you, Daryl," she said around a huge yawn.

Her husband smiled and let his lips ghost over her temple. "I'm here now," he murmured lowly, tightening his arm around her. "Close your eyes an' try t' rest. Don't want y' too tired when we leave in th' mornin'."

Daryl relaxed against the hand rail there on the steps, and before long he could hear her deep even breaths. His little wife worked entirely too hard. It was one of the things he admired most about her. She was so strong, so eager to have her own needful role in the group. But it was his job to make sure the others didn't take advantage of her. It was easy for them to overlook their chores and let Carol have free reign. She never complained, and would rather do something herself than 'bother' one of the others by asking for help.

He had to find a safe place for her and their daughter, for Carl and Lori and the rest of them, until Merle came through with his own plans. There was something – somewhere – out there for them. He knew there was. They hadn't survived this long without some reason. Their group was meant to be together, to survive – to live – together. Some higher power – at least in Carol's opinion – wanted this.

Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes against the pressure building behind his eyes. What he wouldn't do for some decent sleep. He focused his senses on the muffled sounds behind him where the group – those who weren't on watch – lounged in the den. It was late, but everyone was still a bit excited about the move tomorrow. He could just make out Carl, Sophia and Beth playing some board game his daughter had refused to pack just yet. He grinned when Carl began arguing with Jimmy about Colonel Mustard and a candlestick.

He was so lost in his reverie; he didn't quite register what he was seeing. No! No, no, no! It was too soon … He shook Carol awake, keeping his voice low. The walkers emerging from the tree line were slow moving, not having picked up the scent of humans yet. "Carol!" he hissed. "Wake up, woman!"

She jerked awake, instantly alert to the danger, feeling it radiating from his tense body at her back. "How many?" was the only thing she asked.

"Too many! C'mon, we have t' tell th' others." He grabbed her hand and led her inside, counting heads as he marched into the den. "They're here!"

"What?" Hershel asked, rising from his chair.

"The herd. We gotta get everybody together. We're leavin' now!"

Andrea shot to her feet and strapped her pack on, running for the door. "I'll get Dale," she called over her shoulder.

Shane was already reaching for his shotgun. "I'll go meet Rick. Everybody, get to the vehicles. Don't waste time! Move!"

Carol watched him running hell bent down the dirt path to the barn. She could only pray Rick had seen them coming and was already down out of the loft. Once they caught the scent of the living, they'd be picking up the pace and there would be no escaping them. "Daryl …"

Carl and Sophia abandoned the game and reached for their bows. "My dad … Daryl, what if –"

Lori reached for her pack, slinging it over her shoulder and taking his hand. "He'll make it, Carl. Don't even think otherwise."

T-Dog came sprinting down the hall from the kitchen. "They're coming from the trees on two sides. We gotta go now or we're gonna be trapped here."

"Fuck!" Daryl ushered the kids and Lori to the front door and out onto the porch, reaching for Carol's hand behind him. He felt like he was herding cattle as they made the yard.

The herd was pressing up against the fence closest to the barn, their weight buckling the wood, the barbed wire doing nothing to slow them down. Rick and Shane were going to be cut off if they didn't hurry. They were dangerously close to overtaking the yard. Daryl stopped as he heard Andrea scream. He had to pull Carol back to his side as she took a step in that direction to go help her friend.

"Are y' insane!? Get yer ass t' th' bike!" he yelled, shoving her in that direction as he pulled the glock from his waistband and fired at a walker inching a little too close to Patricia. "Sophia!" He'd lost sight of her in the melee. "Sophia!" The panic was rising to choke him. Where was his daughter?!

"Oh, god, Daryl … where are the kids?!" Carol cried, firing off to the left as a geek ambled around the side of the house.

"There!"

Randall had Carl by the collar and another arm around Sophia's waist, thrusting them into the Hyundai and crawling in after them. The boy had just proven himself to Daryl by ensuring the children's safety. Glenn was already diving into the driver's seat, Maggie into the passenger side.

Hershel took a stance at the bottom of the steps, covering the others as they spilled off the porch, his rifle blazing hot. T-Dog had a firm grip on Patricia's arm, pulling her along behind him. When she stumbled over a fallen walker, he tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted towards Daryl's truck, shoving her inside. Beth screamed, her shrieks filling the air. Daryl left Carol there next to his bike and ran across the lawn, prying her off Jimmy who was fighting off one of the dead.

Tears streamed over the girl's face, and he could see the huge bite mark in the boy's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her away as she cried for the loss of her love, steering her towards the truck. Glenn was driving around the property like a madman while Carl stood in the open sunroof firing off arrows. Sophia was hanging out the rear window using Merle's handgun, trying to take out as many as she could. Daryl handed Beth off to T-Dog and ran to the bike. He could see Lori pulling Hershel towards the suburban.

The triumph roared to life and he felt a measure of comfort as Carol wrapped her arms around his waist. He sped off towards the barn, scattering the walkers in his path, all the while looking for Rick and Shane. He caught sight of their leader fighting his way towards Otis' old blue pickup, and huffed out a breath of relief when the man threw himself behind the wheel.

"Where's Shane, Daryl?" Carol called over the noise of the engine. "I didn't see him!" He winced as her nails dug into his chest as she clung to him.

"We cain't wait. There's too many of 'em. They all know to meet up on the highway if we get separated." We'll find out how many we lost then, he added silently. He followed tail lights ahead of him, not sure who he was trailing after. He just knew he had to get his wife away from the death surrounding them. He took comfort in knowing their daughter was safe somewhere ahead of them. How many more would they lose that night … and how would they find the strength to move on without them?

A/N: Gawd! I hate writing action scenes. I hope I didn't do too badly. Please leave me a comment or review letting me know what you think :D I'm thankful to each and every one still reading and reviewing. Next time: The group reconnects and plans their next move.