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When Beth woke up the first thing she could feel was that she was sticky with sweat. She sat up and threw the covers off of her. The air was hot, humid and thick. She wiped the sweat of her forehead and felt disgusted. Why the hell was it so hot out? She looked over to the couch to see that Daryl wasn't there. Before she get up he walked into the room. He had has crossbow over his shoulder and nothing on but boxers. She felt her cheeks heat up.
"What are you wearing?!" she asked.
"It's a million fuckin' degrees out there, if we're gonna live together girly then you better get used to it." She rolled her eyes and tried to keep herself from looking at his muscled chest.
"When do you think we'll be able to get out of here," she asked.
"Maybe in a week or two," he said, "I need another deer or two and then we'll have enough meat to last us." She got up out of bed and said
"Well are we still gonna look for that car today?"
"Ya," he said, "That's where I've been for the past hour, just came back to check on you." She was surprised and said
"How come you didn't wake me up?"
"You need rest," he said.
"I'm not the one who goes out and hunts everyday," she said, feeling slightly insulted. He ignored her comment and said
"Get dressed, I'll be waitin' downstairs."
They sat in the overgrown grass waiting. The sun was almost unbearable and Beth tried to stay in the side of a large oak tree that towered over them.
"We're gonna have terrible sunburns by the end of the day," she said. He just grunted at her, keeping his eyes on the road. "It has to be at least a hundred degrees out," she said. Beth had fair skin and when she burned she turned bright red like a lobster and started peeling. She used to get made fun of for it back in school. A lot of the girls went tanning and achieved a nice dark look while she was looked like a ghost. She'd often wished she was tan but it didn't really matter anymore in the world they lived in. She lay down next to him. The grass was soft and it felt good to let her hair fan out behind her so her neck was no longer hot. "Who do you think they are?" she asked.
"Who?" he asked.
"The people coming up and down the road?" He shrugged and said
"I don't know, but they could know where the rest of the group is so it's worth findin' out." She closed her eyes and let herself doze off.
When she came to an hour later nothing had seemed to change. Daryl was still sitting next to her, watching the road. "When we're done I'm going for a swim," she said, wiping her sweaty face.
"A swim?" he asked. She sat up and said
"What you've never swam for fun before? Like in a pool or a lake?"
"There were no pools in the trailer park," he said, "What's so fun about just swimmin' around anyway?"
"Well you can play games like Marco Polo, or Shark attack."
"What the hell is that," he said. Beth was shocked,
"How can you not know how to play Marco Polo?!" He shrugged, suddenly looking irritated.
"I dunno!" he said, "I didn't grow up in a very playful atmosphere."
"Well I'll teach you," she said, "It's fun."
Daryl stood in the middle of the pond, feeling annoyed. She had managed to drag him in and now she was gonna make him play some stupid childish game.
"Ok," she said, "What you do is one of us is Marco and one of us is Polo. Marco is the one whose supposed to catch Polo. So Marco has to close his or her eyes and call out 'Marco' and Polo is supposed to call out 'Polo'. Once Marco catches or tags Polo that person becomes Marco."
"Sounds stupid," he said, she laughed
"It's fun I promise, but you gotta be Marco."
"Why do I have to be Marco!" he said.
"Cause you've never played the game before." He didn't see any logic in her explanation but gave in.
"Fine," he said, he closed his eyes. "Marco," he said, reaching out in front of him.
"Polo," she called out. He heard her swimming off to the left and started walking in that direction. He called out again and followed her voice. He felt absolutely ridiculous, if anyone else saw him doing this he'd be humiliated. He followed her voice around the pond. She'd always seem to go underwater and pop up somewhere else and he'd be walking in circles.
"Marco," he said. Right by his ear he heard her whisper
"Polo," He lunged around to grab her but she was gone before he could. Growling in frustration he listened closely for where she was going to come up next. He heard a splash as she came to the surface over on his right. Without calling out he moved fast, lunging for her again. This time he caught her leg as she tried to dash away.e and she let of a squeal as he pulled her backwards. She felt him wrap his arms around her and tried to ignore the way he pulled her flush against him.
Beth felt his hand grip around her ankle and she let of a squeal as he pulled her backwards. She felt him wrap his arms around her and tried to ignore the way he pulled her flush against him.
"You're Marco now," he said triumphantly.
"I thought you thought this game as stupid," she said teasingly.
"It's alright," he said gruffly. She laughed and tried to pull away from him.
"You can let go now," she said. He released her back into the water. Smiling she closed her eyes and said "Marco." He may of been a great hunter and tracker but he was terrible at being stealthy in the water. She could hear every movement he made and it was easy to follow him without him calling out. It took her ten minutes. When she felt him near she dove and grabbed onto his shoulders. "Got you," she said.
"Fuck!" he said. He abruptly turned around and grabbed onto her tightly.
"What are you doing?!" she asked surprised. He didn't answer her and plunged underwater. She screamed as he pulled her under with him. When she came back to the surface her hair had been flipped over so that it came down in front of her face. She could hear him laughing at her and she flipped her hair back over. She had never seen him laugh before. It was odd, but she liked it.
When they got back inside it was dark out and the heat had died down and she actually felt somewhat chilly. Beth sat on the couch wrapped in a towel as he lit a fire to cook dinner. As the meat started to cook he came and sat down next to her. She couldn't help but shiver a little as a chill ran up her back. She was surprised when he gestured for her to come over to him.
"C'mere," he said. She looked at him, unsure what he wanted her to do. He pulled her over so she was practically sitting on his lap and he rubbed her arms, making her feel warmer. She was shocked at what he was doing. The only time he'd ever touched someone like that was when he had massaged Carol's shoulders the day they got to the prison. She took that as an invitation to lean her head back into his shoulder. "You were complainin' about the heat this morning," he said.
"Ya well it's colder at night," she said. She looked up at him and found his face closer to hers then she thought it would be. For a fleeting moment she thought that all the dreams she had had about him would be fulfilled and he'd lean forward and kiss her but instead he ruined the moment and said
"You were right about the sunburn though, you're face is pretty damn red." She felt her cheeks and felt the familiar hot stinging sensation of a sunburn.
"Suppose I should get used to it," she said, "Not like they make sunscreen anymore."
When they were done eating they headed to bed, tired from the day. Daryl fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. He hadn't wanted to admit it to Beth but he too had been having nightmares. Hershel's death had deeply disturbed him. Not as much as it did Beth but the whole thing had been fucked up for everyone and it had triggered something in his brain. While he did have nightmares about the prison attack, most of the nightmares brought him back to his childhood.
He was six again. He and Merle broken into a house and Merle was looking at the loot he'd thrown into a pillow case. Jewelry, a couple of twenty dollar bills, and a bunch of nudie magazines he'd found in one of the cupboards in the bedroom. Daryl never went into houses alone he'd always follow Merle.
"Here's some for you," he said handing Daryl only two of the 20 dollars bills.
"Hey that's no fair! You got way more then half!" he said.
"Don't matter little brother," he said, "I'm the one who broke the window, I keep most of the loot." Daryl was unhappy about it but he kept his mouth shut. He swung the pillow case over his shoulder and started walking off towards town.
"Where ya goin'?" called Daryl.
"To the pawn shop, gonna get some cash for these necklaces." Daryl ran after him. Merle only told him he wasn't allowed to tag along when he was with the older boys and they went out to the woods to smoke crack. They walked along the dirt road and quickly made their way into town. Daryl looked around at the rundown storefronts, not much had changed in the town since he'd been born. There was always the local hookers standing outside the bar, the drunks stumbling around and the dirty children playing out in the streets. He was one of those dirty children. Shoeless, with holes in his shirt and pants. They entered the pawn shop and owner's wife was standing at the counter, sorting through a box of rings. Daryl had always liked her. Her name was Cheryl. She reminded him of his mum, except she was much nicer and she always gave him lollipops and she smelled like peaches. Also like his mum she also had bruises on her face. Today she had a fresh one on her right eye. When she saw him standing there she smiled and said
"Hi there sweetheart how are you today?" Daryl smiled and said
"I'm good," Like always she reached into the jar of lollipops on the counter and tossed him two.
"Did you bring somethin' to sell?" she asked Merle, looking at his bag.
"Sure did ma'am," he said, reaching inside. Suddenly the shop owner came out of the back. The woman's smiling demeanor instantly went fearful.
"What are you doin' up her Cheryl, get to the back where you fuckin' belong, don' need you up here dealin' with the customers." She scurried off into the back, her head down.
"Whatdya got for me boys?" he asked. Merle dumped all of the jewelry out onto the counter. Daryl looked around as his brother and the man went back and fourth over the money. Ten minutes they walked out, Merle's pockets fat with cash. Daryl knew the next stop they had to make. They walked into a back alleyway behind the diner. The usual man was standing there waiting for them. There was little words exchanged as Merle pulled out a couple bills and handed them over. In return he got the bag of drugs he wanted. When they got back out to the street Merle said
"Go on home, I'll be back later," Daryl listened and started walking back home. He took his time, kicking rocks along the way. When he finally reached the trailer he opened the door. There was his mum in her usual spot, smoking on the couch watching TV. She didn't acknowledge him as he walked into the bedroom he shared with Merle and reached under the bed where he kept his stash of money. He wasn't quick enough and he heard his father step into the doorway.
"Whatdya got there boy?" Daryl felt cold fear wash over him and he quickly tucked the cash into his pants pocket.
"Nuthin'," he said. His father was in the same dingy jeans and the yellowed wife-beater he'd been wearing all week. In his hands he held a half empty bottle of whiskey. His cold, drunken eye narrowed at Daryl.
"You better not be lyin' to me." Daryl shoke his head and said
"I ain't I swear," His father rushed forward and Daryl tried to run around the other side of the bed but he wasn't quick enough. His father grabbed him by the throat and threw him down onto the bad. Daryl gasped for air as his father tightened his grip.
"You no good little piece of shit! You're lyin' to me!" Daryl couldn't speak as he choked. His father threw him onto the ground, knocking the breath out of him. He grabbed him by the foot and pulled him up so he was hanging upside down.
"Whatcha got!" he said, shaking Daryl violently. He felt sick and felt all the blood rushing to his head. He saw the money fall out onto the floor from his pocket. "I knew you were lyin' to me!" His father scooped up the money and dropped Daryl to the floor. He landed on his hand and he cried out in pain. He felt his father lift up his shirt so his back was exposed. He heard his father unbuckling his belt and he knew what was coming next. The deep wounds on his back hadn't healed yet from the last beating and when his father brought the belt down on his damaged flesh he saw stars. He let out a cry and felt the tears pouring down his face. He looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway, cigarette in hand. There was a sickening smirk on her face.
"What'd that little shit do now," she said.
"Get back to the couch bitch! I ain't got time for you!" His mother quickly did as she was told. Blow after blow his father repeatedly hit him until he'd had his fill. He left him there on the floor, crying and bleeding out onto the carpet, his back in shreds.
Daryl woke up in cold sweat. He fell off the couch, making the floor shake. He saw Beth's concerned face looking down at him.
"Daryl are you ok?" she said. Before he could answer he heard a loud creak from above.
"What was that?" asked Beth, looking up. Suddenly there was a loud crash and wood splintering. There was a hole in the ceiling and below it was a walker. There was another crash and another walker came falling through the ceiling. Three more walkers came through the holes. They were in deep trouble.