Chapter 15
Who let the southerner drive?
"Well now you've done it." Archer said, examining the car stuck in the ditch.
"Shit." Daryl kicked the back tire. "Gotta walk then."
Archer looked up at snowflakes falling from the darkening sky. "Snow's getting worse, we'd best get under cover until it passes. We don't want to get lost in this."
Daryl popped the trunk and pulled out their packs. He tossed her a pair of snowshoes which she put on. "The canal is just up the road. We can follow it East to a farmhouse. We shouldn't get lost as long as we keep close to the water."
Daryl nodded and fell in behind her as they hiked in search of the canal. When they found it, they turned east and walked along the top of the ridge above it. The water was only partially frozen over, she could see the black waters in the middle moving swiftly, carrying the odd piece of ice.
"Jesus it's cold." Daryl muttered. It was hard going, they'd had quite a bit of snow that week and it settled in drifts.
"It's not much farther." Archer led the way. She knew Cherry House well and had often used it as a stop-over when out on the canal circuit. It was one of the places the fort used to store non-perishables in the event that Fort Charles fell.
"Shit." Daryl cursed, she looked back to see his snowshoe had come off.
She frowned. "You might need a smaller shoe. We should check the stores when we get back."
He bent over to re-attach the straps to his boot. "You sure you know where we are?"
"It's not far now." She said, walking ahead. Archer was about to point out one of the landmarks when she felt the snow under her feet give way. Shit, was all she had time to think before she slid down the ravine into the icy water below.
She felt like she'd been punched in the gut. The cold knocked all the air out of her lungs. Quickly she shrugged off her pack, letting it sink to the icy depths of the river. Her snowsuit was heavy with water, forcing Archer to swim hard towards the light above.
She must have floated downstream from where she fell. She came up and hit ice. Frantically she pounded on the ice shelf, her lungs burning. Remembering the long knife in her pocket, she fumbled for it with frozen fingers and used the hilt to hammer on the barrier.
At last it cracked and broke open. She bobbed to the surface and took a deep breath. Archer heard Daryl screaming for her. "Here!" She yelled. "I'm here!" Using her now soaked mittens, she clambered up onto the ice shelf. It broke under her weight, plunging her in again, but she was able to keep her head above water this time.
Daryl appeared at the shoreline. He extended a long branch which she grabbed. He pulled her onto the thicker ice on the side. It cracked, but didn't break. He helped her climb back up the ravine.
She lay there on top of him as he hugged her to his chest, trying to catch their breaths. Daryl looked at her "We need to get you inside. Where's that house?"
"Not f-f-ar, fifteen m-m-inutes or so."
"You gonna make it?"
"Made it this f-f-ar, might as well keep g-g-going." She shivered as he pulled her to her feet.
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By the time they reached the house, Archer was shaking uncontrollably. Daryl ushered her inside and told her to stay by the door while he did a quick sweep of the house. She leaned her back against the door and slid to the floor. She was so cold. She just needed to get warm.
"Hey!" Daryl was crouched next to her, shaking her shoulder. "Stay awake. C'mon." He hauled her up by the arm and dragged her into the sitting room. He tossed linens he had retrieved from upstairs onto the floor. "Don't sit down." He ordered her before disappearing out the front door again.
She looked around the room, there was a large fireplace with a rustic wooden mantle. The brick looked old. The room had dark green walls with some kind of flower print on it. There was a large leather arm chair and an overstuffed plaid couch.
Daryl had said no sitting, she reminded herself. Her bones ached with cold. He didn't say no kneeling. Kneeling must be okay, her addled mind thought. She knelt in front of the couch and rested her head on it. Just for a minute.
"Wake up. C'mon. Wake up!" Daryl's voice drew her back from her reverie. Her eyes flicked open. She wasn't kneeling any more, Daryl was leaning over her, fiddling with the zipper of her coat. There was a worried expression on his face.
"S'wrong?" She asked and frowned at the slurred words. Am I drunk?
She must have said that last bit out loud because Daryl answered. "Yer not drunk. Doncha remember?" He had her coat undone now. He yanked it off her as he pulled her up to a sitting position. He took off his own coat and covered her with it. He held her face in both his hands and looked her in the eyes, searching for understanding. "You stay awake. No lying down. Got it?"
She nodded, pulling his coat up to her chin. It was warm and she was so very cold. Her eyes followed him as he grabbed a bunch of firewood that had been tossed on the floor and started setting it up in the fireplace. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if she was looking at him. "That's it girl, stay w' me." His voice was calm and soothing.
"HEY!" Daryl yelled. She blinked and stared at the piece of firewood that had landed in her lap, jolting her awake. She scowled at Daryl.
"Eyes open and on me, got it?" Daryl had positioned the firewood and was trying to light it. "Do you remember what happened?"
"You threw f-f-firewood at me, assh-h-ole." She frowned. "Wassa matter with you?"
"Not that. Do ya know where y'are? Do you 'member comin' here?"
She looked around at the dark green walls. She'd been there before, in the summer they picked cherries from the trees out front. "It's the ch-ch-cherry h-h-house." She stammered. "We w-w-walked here."
"From where? Where did we come from?" He pressed, the fire had taken, and he was blowing it to get the kindling to catch.
"W-w-where?" She didn't understand the question. "Doesn't matta, sss'late. Sssleep."
"No." Daryl was pulling her boots and socks off now. "Do you remember how you got wet?"
"W-w-wet?" She wondered if that was why she was so cold. "ss'w-w-winter. W-w-welcome t-t-to C-c-ca-n-n-ada."
"Yeah, yeah." Daryl pulled his coat off her. "If you're so Canadian, why th'hell 're you the one shiverin'."
"F-f-fell in the r-r-river." She glowered at him. Why was he being such a jerk?
"Uh huh." He'd yanked her mittens off, tossed her scarf aside and was pulling her sweater off over her head. "Now do ya remember?"
"'Member what?" She didn't understand why he was being so unreasonable. She just wanted to sleep. What was his problem?
"I need you to stand." He pulled her onto her feet, quickly pulling her pants down to her knees before letting her fall back down to the couch.
It took her a moment to realize she was naked from the waist down. Her eyes widened. "N-n-n-no." She stammered.
"Don't worry." Daryl's voice was calming. "Not gonna touch ya, just need ta get ya out of yer wet clothes ta warm up." He stripped off the last layer on her top and quickly undid the strap of her bra, sliding it off her shoulders. He grabbed a towel and brusquely dried her body off with the efficiency that one might use to dry off a child.
He then wrapped her in a duvet and sat her so that her back faced the fire. He used another towel to dry out her hair, raking his fingers through in an attempt to use the heat of the fire to get all the damp out.
"Better?" He turned her head towards him to look her in the eyes. There was concern written on his face.
When she didn't answer, his hands reached under the duvet to find hers. He cursed. "You're too cold. Ya won't warm up on yer own." He shrugged off his own sweater and pulled her into his lap, re-wrapping the duvet around them both. She leaned back into his naked chest and soaked up the warmth of him.
"B-b-better." She sighed as he reached around to rub her arms. Archer remembered the day when he'd first done that. He had been warm then too. "W-w-warm." She muttered, letting her eyelids close. She imagined what his callused hands would feel like on her chest. There were other places she'd like to feel him rub too…
"Stay w' me girl." She heard Daryl mutter as she settled into him. "Don't leave me now."
"Stay." She whispered.
"Atta girl."
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She awoke to the soft crackle of the fire. Bleary eyes found the light of the fire, the room was otherwise dark. She could feel someone lying next to her.
"Welcome back." Daryl's quiet voice was in her ear. "Was worried 'bout you." His hand gently stroked her head. She was lying down in his arms on the floor in front of the fireplace.
"The river." She said, remembering. "I fell in the river."
He sighed and untangled himself from her. "Yeah, ya did."
"You helped me get out."
"Ya did most of it yerself." He leaned down, re-wrapping her in the duvet and carried her to the couch.
"Thank you."
"Stay here. I'm gonna get somethin' warm ta eat."
She closed her eyes and drifted back off to sleep. Daryl nudged her awake, sitting her up he brought a cup of something warm to her lips. "Drink." She did as she was told, it was salty. Probably some of the soup they carried in their packs.
"I'm tired." She said weakly.
"Sure. Just finish the soup."
She shook her head, but he insisted. As soon as she finished he laid her back down and she was out.
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"Shhh." Daryl shook her gently. "It's just a dream. Everythin's alright."
She awoke drenched in sweat with a racing heart. She sat up and buried her head in her hands, trying to chase the last remnants of the nightmare from her mind. It was daylight now, the cold winter light filtered in through the farmhouse windows.
Belatedly she realized she wasn't wearing any clothes. She snatched the blanket back up to cover her chest. "Where are my clothes?"
"I hung them to try." Daryl pointed to the fireplace; she saw clothing hanging around it and recognized the bra and panties immediately.
She blushed. "Did we…. Did I?" She couldn't quite remember last night. She did remember Daryl's naked chest and waking up in his arms.
"Nothin' happened. Had to get dry is all."
"The river…" She remembered.
"Most yer stuff is dry now. Can ya get dressed?"
She nodded.
"'Kay, I'll be in the kitchen. Yell when yer done." With that he left.
She got up on unsteady legs, shivering despite the fire and dressed hurriedly. She vaguely remembered Daryl undressing her and blushed again. She always dressed in practical clothing, but her underwear was a throwback to the days before. It was terribly girly. She was embarrassed that he'd handled it.
Her coat and boots were still wet so she left them off and re-wrapped the duvet around herself. She sat staring into the fire, shivering again. There was something she was supposed to do, but she couldn't remember what that was.
"Archer?" Daryl called from the other room. "You dressed?"
"Yeah."
Daryl came around the corner and frowned. "Told ya ta call me."
"I forgot."
"'Kay. C'mon, food's in the kitchen."
"Can I eat here? I'm cold. I want to stay by the fire."
"Still?" Daryl's frown deepened. "Ya felt warm 'nough last night."
"I did?" She was confused. "What do you mean by that?"
He sighed and put his hand on her head. "Yeah. Yer warm alright." He started to pull the duvet off her shoulders. "C'mon, get away from the fire."
"I'm freezing!" She snapped, snatching at the covering.
"My ass." Daryl pulled her to her feet and half-carried her to the kitchen. He sat her in a chair at the table and handed her a bottle of water. "Drink."
She took a swig of the water and shivered. "It's cold."
"You're burning up." He said flatly, taking a seat at the table next to her. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's still snowing heavy outside. We gotta stay here 'til it stops."
She shrugged. "We have lots of food. There's a stash of cans in the barn under the hay bales."
"No shit?"
"Yeah, this is Cherry House right?" She looked around at the distinctly 1950s kitchen. "There's also a cold cellar in the basement. We put a bookcase in front of the door to hide it. I think there are some apples in there and maybe potatoes…"
"Are there any medicines here?" Daryl prompted her.
"At Cherry House?" She frowned. "Yeah, Pennicilin I think. Not sure."
"Where?"
She shrugged and dropped her head onto her hands on the table. "I'm going back to sleep."
"Not until you tell me where the meds are." Daryl shook her awake.
"Basement."
"Behind the bookcase?"
She shook her head.
"Then where?"
"In the thingy." She was cold and tired and Daryl was being unreasonable. She told him so. His response was to drag her downstairs to the basement.
"Where are the meds Archer?" Daryl commanded.
She pointed to an old apple press in the corner. "Look in the top."
Daryl let her sink onto the stairs, she leaned against the banister and closed her eyes. She was almost asleep when Daryl darted up the stairs passed her. "Hey!" she whined, not wanting to be alone in the dim room, she crawled up the stairs after him.
He nearly stepped on her on the way back down. "C'mon." He leaned down and hauled her back into the kitchen. He placed a couple of pills in front of her and a bottle of water. "Take them."
"What are they?" She asked, taking the two little pills into her hand.
"Tylenol, for your fever."
"Where'd you get it?" She frowned, the pills didn't look right.
"Damnit, just take the pills."
"Show me the bottle." Something was off.
"Fine." He slapped a bottle down in front of her. "You think I'm trying ta drug ya or somethin'?"
"It's Tylenol three." She stated blandly. "I can't take that."
"Whaddya mean, can't?" Daryl was frustrated; she could hear it in his voice.
"I'm allergic."
"Bullshit. Nobody's allergic to Tylenol."
"Not Tylenol. It's the codeine. Tylenol three has codeine." She looked at him. "That'll kill me."
"Shit." Daryl cursed.
"I'm going to bed now." She stood up to leave and found her legs had turned to jelly. Daryl caught her before she hit the ground.
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She woke up shaking. " No no no no no…" She muttered, pulling the blankets off herself. She frantically tore off her shirt and ran her hands over arms, searching for the telltale bite mark. She was sobbing when Daryl came in from outside.
"What's wrong?" He asked
She was frantic. "I got bit. You gotta kill me Daryl, don't let me turn."
"I'm not going to kill you." He picked her shirt up off the floor. "C'mon, get dressed."
"Fine, then I'll do it. Where's your gun?" Shaking she headed toward the pack on the floor. Daryl grabbed her and pulled her into his arms.
"Easy." He soothed. "Why d'ya think yer bit?"
"I have the fever."
"Didya find a mark?"
"No, but I can't see my back."
"'Kay, I been w'ya, Emma. You ain't bit. Ain't seen a walker in a week."
"You sure?" She asked. "Did you check?"
He stroked his hands gently up and down her back. "No marks. Just smooth skin."
She sighed and relaxed in his arms. "Am I going crazy?"
"Not anymore 'n usual." He led her back to the couch and placed her sweater in her lap. "Get dressed. Snow finally quit, we're gonna head home. Get you to Joel."
"Joel." She nodded.
Daryl doused the fire and packed up their things. She noticed that he removed the bullets from the gun and pocketed them. By the time he finished, she was sound asleep again.