Chapter Five

She shook her head and took a step away. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be him because he wouldn't do the things that her friends said this group had done. He wasn't a monster like those men. And if she had it all wrong, if this wasn't the right group of men, then her and the others could have possibly killed innocent people tonight.

It hit her then. The man that had helped them. It had to be him because she knew that he wouldn't ever do the things those other men did. He would have helped them. She knew him. Unless... She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. It had been so long since she had seen anyone from her group, but even longer since she was able to look at him. She never believed that she would see him again. But there he was. His hair was longer, he was leaner, his arms a little more defined, but it was him.

And she'd stabbed him!

She saw his eyes move to a spot behind her and then they narrowed. She glanced over her shoulder and gasped as five men started walking towards them.

She turned, her hand instinctively going to the knife at her hip, but the sheath was empty. The men were leering at her, their eyes cold as they swept over her slowly, like she was standing naked before them. They finally stopped a few feet away from her, one of them kicking Merle's leg roughly.

"Looks like your brother got taken down by a bitch, Dixon," the man said with a grin. "But that's alright. I can take real good care of her for him. Make her scream real good."

Before she knew what was happening Daryl grabbed her from behind, dragging her back roughly. "Fuck you, Leo. This one's mine," he growled, his voice harsh and rough. "Me and her, we're old friends," he said in a voice that didn't sound very friendly at all.

The men all shared astonished looks for a second and then they were grinning. "About damn time. We all thought your dick was broken, since you only ever used it to piss."

Carol scowled but was actually glad to hear this come out of their filthy mouths. He had something up his sleeve because even though he had her arm twisted behind her, his grip was light and he squeezed gently, letting her know that he had to say whatever he could to get her out of this. She felt something hard slip between her fingers and she realized he had pulled the knife out of his side. She gripped it hard, hoping that the hilt was slippery because of the rain and not because of his blood.

"Throw me some rope. She's a fighter," he said to one of the men. "Bitch bout bashed Merle's skull in." One of the men brought him a length of rope and he loosely knotted it around her wrists. "One of you check for a pulse," he said, nodding towards his brother.

Just then Merle groaned and pushed himself up off the street. He rubbed gingerly at the back of his head and then looked up, meeting her eyes. There was no sign of recognition in his gaze and she was sure he didn't know who she was. "You're gonna pay for that, and trust me, I'm gonna make sure it fuckin' hurts."

"Your brother called dibs, Merle. Maybe he won't be gentle with her," one of them laughed.

Merle stood up, shouldering the gun he must have taken. He glared at her and she glared right back. If it wasn't for him and the crap he pulled in Woodbury then Daryl never would have left. Maybe things could have been different. But they weren't different and she had needed something to focus that anger on and here it was. Something that she could blame for all the pain she had suffered.

He took a few steps towards her, glanced at Daryl and then he stopped. She wasn't sure what Merle saw there in his brother's face but he didn't advance on her anymore. The men stepped around them and Daryl turned them both, keeping his grip on her so he could watch the men head towards the alley. Carol didn't see any sign of whoever Merle had been scuffling with. She knew it had been one of her girls but she hadn't been able to see which one.

As soon as the men had their backs to them and was just about to step into the alleyway, Daryl let go of her, wretched the gun out of Merle's hands and then opened fire, cutting all five of them down so fast it took a few moments for her to understand what was going on.

Carol was able to shake the rope off her wrists easily and that was when she was jerked off balance and thrown onto the ground hard. Before she could push herself up Merle was looming over her, his face an angry mask. She was still sure he had no idea who she was.

He was jerked away from her quickly and she raised up in time to see Daryl shove him back. She scrambled to her feet then. Merle was glaring, breathing like a bull and Daryl was mirroring him, their foreheads nearly touching. She still couldn't believe it was him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Merle roared, shoving him in the chest.

Daryl stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. Carol took all of two steps before she saw three more people come around the side of the building. She knew who was leading the other two just by the woman's movements and she knew that she only had seconds before both men were gunned down. Carol sprinted towards the brothers, putting herself between them and the approaching women.

"Nice job, Carol. After we kill these two that brings the body count up to ten. Maybe the other girl's were able to take down a few more. What a bunch of idiots."

"Cas, we aren't killing them," Carol said, sensing the tension in the men at her back.

Cassidy stopped a few feet away, the other women flanking her. "What the hell do you..." Her eyes slid to Merle and Carol saw her jaw harden in anger. "You two, huh? You think you get a good guy pass or something?"

"I know them," Carol said quickly, hoping that Merle would keep his mouth shut. Her hopes were dashed seconds later.

"I don't know you, you crazy bitch!" Merle growled and then she heard him grunt. Daryl must have done something to him.

"Oh fuck," Daryl breathed and Carol could hear the dread in his voice. She turned and a terrified sound bubbled up from her throat.

Walkers. A herd of them. Of course they would have heard the shots but she had been hoping that they were far enough away in the city that it would take them longer to get to them. She thought they would be able to take down the men and then get back to the factory before they made it this far.

She heard Cassidy curse and then their eyes met. "We can make it to the factory if we haul ass."

Carol nodded and they all started moving. Or so she thought. She heard footfalls pounding behind her and risked glancing back. Merle was nearly past her but Daryl was slower. Much too slow actually. He was holding onto his side and she remembered, in all the chaos, that she'd stabbed him. She still didn't know if it was a mortal wound and even if it wasn't, it was going to get him killed because he wasn't moving fast enough. The walkers behind him were gaining ground.

A memory flashed through her mind. Him opening the door to what she had thought would be her tomb. Carrying her away from death. Saving her. Regardless of how she may feel about him now, she wouldn't let him die. She stopped, knowing the others were already ahead of her, and then sprinted towards him.

"Fuck!" Merle yelled.

She glanced over her shoulder and gasped. Merle and the others had just passed an alleyway and more walkers started teaming out from between those buildings, cutting her and Daryl off from the rest of them. Within seconds the others were obscured. She finally made it to Daryl just as the fastest walker did. She grabbed his arm, not knowing where the hell they were going to run to but knowing they had to do something. Walkers were coming at them from both ends of the street and there was no where to go.

"Are you fucking crazy!" He spat, anger clear in his eyes. She was about to knife the walker that was reaching for them both.

"Completely certifiable," she grunted and then cried out when something grabbed her from behind. She watched as Daryl ignored the walker that was snapping at his shoulder and then plunged the knife into the one that had gripped her. It was her knife. The one he'd pulled from his side.

Gripping her hand hard his frantic gaze swept over the buildings surrounding them and then he was pulling her towards one of them. She barely noticed the narrow door that he was leading her to until he was kicking it in. There was a steep flight of stairs right behind the door and the two of them started up, the walkers actually stalling in the doorway because they were all trying to enter the space at once. It gave Daryl and Carol a few seconds anyway, and they didn't waste any of them.

The darkness was like a living thing reaching out to pull her down, helping the walkers that sounded like they were right behind them.

"Light?" He gasped once they reached the top.

"What?"

He growled. "Flashlight! Do you have a goddamn flashlight?"

She blinked, felt something grab her ankle and screamed, fumbling in her pocket for the pin light she knew was there as she lashed out with her foot, catching something in the face. She pushed the light into his hand and then kicked again. Jesus, why hadn't he gone further away from the damn stairs?

The light came on and she realized he hadn't gone any further because there was nowhere to go. The stairs led to a small space with a single door directly to the left of them. It opened outwards, which was ridiculous considering how close the door was to the edge of the steps but she didn't have time to think about that because he was shoving her into the darkness beyond. Neither of them knew if there were walkers on the other side. It didn't matter because they both know what was below them. If not for the heavy leather of her boots, she would have been bitten for sure.

They were in another narrow hallway and directly in front of them was another door. To the left, at the end of the short hall was another set of steps that lead up to the third floor and beyond. She had no idea what kind of building they were in. All she could do was hope that wherever they were, there would be something they could use to stop the bleeding in his side.

He tried the door in front of him, found it unlocked and then turned towards her without opening it all the way. Wordlessly he shoved the light into her hand and then proceeded to strip off his belt just as the door to the stairs was about to open. She gripped the lever and pulled it closed again, nearly dropping the light. He fixed the belt to the lever and then wrapped the other end to a pipe that ran from the floor to the ceiling next to the door frame.

His hands were shaking and from the light she could see that he was pale and sweating badly. Once he had the door anchored shut he turned to the door that he had checked, grabbing the light from her wordlessly and pulling the knife from his pocket. His pants were coated in blood from the wound in his side.

"Daryl, let me check," she whispered as he pushed the door open.

"You've done plenty already," he muttered, pushing through.

She didn't respond to his words. Instead she followed him into the room and let out a relieved breath when she looked around and saw that they were in a small kitchen. There was a short hallway beyond the kitchen leading to the rest of the house. She stayed at his back. A living room, bedroom and bathroom lay beyond the hallway. The gray morning light filtered through the dust covering the tall windows. It was neat and tidy, like the renters had simply got up and walked out. There was a putrid smell from the refrigerator but other than that, no smell of walkers.

After they had checked the apartment the two of them stood there, catching their breath, not saying a word. Silently, she left him standing in the living room while she raided the medicine cabinet for anything she could use to patch him up. She found a few things there but hit pay dirt in the pantry in the kitchen when she found a box of first aid supplies.

Her mind was numb. She had taken too many hits to the system this morning and her brain was going into survival mode, refusing to let her feel anything other than a strange calm that made her able to function.

She was sure that there would be time later for the onslaught of emotion that was sure to follow the events.