The black man in the torn, tatty tan coloured knee length coat relaxed slightly in recognition once Rick had uttered his name. He glanced warily at the rest of the prison crew, all poised with weapons raised, but gave their leader a thin, weak half smile and nodded his head.
"Rick," he replied simply, his brown eyes once again roaming over the strangers before him.
Rick turned to his group and inclined his head in a gesture which confirmed they should lower their weapons.
Daryl still brandished his bow at a warning level, ready to fight should the situation change. "You know this guy?" he regarded Rick with his cool blue eyes.
Rick nodded, placing his pistol in his holster, turning his body slightly to include Morgan in the conversation.
He looked at his best friend and explained, "After I woke up in that hospital, Morgan was the first living person I met. He helped me. Saved me. I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for him." He allowed his eyes to focus on each of his friends in turn and they relaxed a notch.
Daryl looked from Rick to the stranger named Morgan, his lip twitched as he narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to read his demeanour, not entirely ready to accept that any danger had been averted. He remained silent, knowing his scrutiny would convey his mistrust of the newcomer.
A voice at the back of his mind whispered that this reunion was delaying their return to the prison, precious minutes were ticking by and the sense of unease he had felt all day multiplied in the pit of his stomach. Daryl exchanged a look with Michonne, whose face was drawn, her eyes guarded.
"How'd you end up here, Morgan?" Rick asked, his hands on his hips. Morgan looked nervously between the group, his eyes straying to the cupboard door beside him.
Rick cleared his throat, "Its ok, Morgan," he soothed, maintaining eye contact with his old acquaintance and spreading his hands in a calming gesture, "You're in no danger." The sheriff turned to Daryl and nodded his head for the archer to lower his bow further.Daryl sighed, gritted his teeth and obliged.
"But who is in the cupboard?" Rick asked gently, turning back to the man before them. Morgan gave a humourless smile and headed across, opening the door and speaking in hushed tones to whoever was inside.
He reached in and a slender arm slid around his neck. Turning around, Morgan supported a dark haired woman in her twenties as she hobbled out into the weak light, limping on her left leg.
The two of them moved cautiously to the cash desk where they leaned up against it. Her attire was as grubby as Morgan's, it was clear to all that this group had been camping out in this store for at least a number of days, if not weeks.
Behind the woman emerged a boy in his late teens, with broad shoulders, and fair hair curling around his ears, his skin tanned as though he ordinarily spent a lot of time outside. His light blue eyes scanned the strangers before him with a tired wariness, and a long, smooth stick was held in his right hand.
A strained silence fell.
"I'm Rick," the sheriff began, placing one hand on his chest. He then introduced the rest of the group, as Morgan and his two friends remained statue still.
The boy from the cupboard stepped forward, offering a hand, "I'm Benjamin. This is Nora," he indicated with his head to the woman who seemed to flinch as though in pain. "You seem to know Morgan already." As he shook Rick's hand, the young man's pale blue eyes met the sheriff's gaze and Benjamin gave a tight smile.
Rick's mouth returned the smile, "Morgan saved my life, in the beginning. He helped me out a few months ago too, only right I should return the favour." He studied Morgan, willing his old acquaintance to relax.
Morgan sighed, the woman from his group still leaning against him for support. He rubbed his free hand across his face, and looked from Nora to Benjamin. The boy met Morgan's gaze and gave a small nod of his head.
"Ok Rick," he stated, a tired half smile played at his mouth, "We accept your offer of help."
Daryl clenched his jaw, feeling Michonne's eyes on him. He knew she was trying to silently urge him into instilling caution into their leader.
"Rick," Daryl hissed, and once the sheriff turned to him, he jerked his head behind them, indicating that he would like a word.
The two men moved away from the rest, to an area nearer to the camping display. Rick had his back to the group, while Daryl kept a watchful eye over his friend's shoulder.
"You sure about this, man?" Daryl enquired, keeping his voice low, his eyes fixed on the three strangers behind them, just feet away, his bow still in his hand.
Rick adjusted his position to gain eye contact with the hunter, "Yeah," he nodded. "I know Morgan, he's a good guy. I thought the council agreed to start taking in newcomers?" The sheriff's gaze was serious as he regarded his friend.
Daryl shrugged, unwilling to admit that opening up their home to strangers and to the possibility of placing his loved ones in danger had given him cold feet. "We needed to plan clearin' out more space first," he explained quietly.
"We'll make room," Rick stated, turning around to survey the group behind him before returning his attention to the hunter, "Morgan lost his son, we've all lost people. You, Carol, Hershel….me. We all dealt with it differently but in the beginning, when I thought I had lost everyone, Morgan took a chance on me. So we take a chance on him now." He failed to mention the Morgan he had met a few months ago while in King's County and collecting weapons to use against The Governor. No one needed to know the full extent of Morgan's state of mind at that time.
Daryl chewed his lip, "And what if this is a trap? What if there ain't just three o'them? What if some asshole is waitin' in the shadows. Fuck knows what Morgan has had to do to survive – you know what it's like out here. We all do."
Sighing, Rick placed his hands on his hips and looked behind him once again as Morgan produced a bottle of water and offered it around to the others.
"Chance we gotta take," Rick replied firmly, eyes still on the group. "Look, you wanna get outta here, right?"
Daryl nodded slowly, wanting nothing more than to ride through those gates and into the warmth of his woman's smile.
"So those three look like they've been holed up in here awhile and all this talking is delaying us leaving and going home. We take them back with us and get their story on the way. It'll work out, brother." Rick promised and turned to Daryl and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
Daryl blew out a breath and grimaced. "Ok," he agreed reluctantly.
Michonne watched as the two men rejoined the group and Rick announced that they would leave the mall and head home with the three newcomers. She bit back the urge to question this decision, she knew Morgan had been hostile back in King's County when herself, Rick and Carl had been on the weapons run. The man's demeanour at this moment seemed guarded, meek and sedate, so she decided to remain watchful but trust in Rick Grimes. As always.
Morgan and Benjamin told their tale of being part of a larger group before each of their friends had fallen either at the hands of walkers, from malnutrition, injuries or infections. Just before stumbling upon the mall, they had happened upon another group of survivors with a base to the east. The outcome of that clearly hadn't been good, as Nora teared up at Morgan's recollection and so the older man trailed off, Rick nodding in understanding.
Daryl felt a twinge of guilt at his reluctance to invite these people into their home. They had suffered loss, just as he had, if his family had turned their back on him at the beginning, who knew where he would be now?
Benjamin revealed that they had a pickup concealed around to the rear of the mall which he and Morgan had been using only when absolutely necessary to go on runs to the neighbouring towns to look for any items they needed which they couldn't find in the mall.
"Why don't you guys follow us in your truck?" Daryl suggested softly, feeling Rick's surprised eyes on him. "We got people at home who can look at her leg," He directed his words to Morgan, hoping to establish a connection, "Can look you all over." He added. "Thanks, Daryl," Morgan gave a small smile and nodded.
Michonne peered around Rick, "We got food too. There'll be no banquet, but it's gotta be better than living off candy bars." She inclined her head toward a stray wrapper on the floor and Benjamin chuckled.
"I'd kill for a half decent bowl of gruel right about now," he replied, his dimples showing as he looked from Michonne to Morgan.
Morgan nodded again, "Let's go, then," he turned to Nora, "If you agree?"The woman looked to be about to put up an argument, crossing her arms across her chest, her brown eyes flitting between the group before her. She opened her mouth but abruptly closed it again before shrugging her shoulders, "Fine," she sighed. She brushed down her black shirt and looked up, "Let's split."
Rick smiled, "You'll be safer with us," he promised to Nora.
She looked back at him, her eyes filled with tears and her chin wobbled as she nodded her head. She took a deep breath and Benjamin moved to her left side to take her weight, but she used the back of her right hand to swipe at her tears. Benjamin murmured in her ear and she gave a weak smile at his words.
"Thank you," Nora said to Rick and flashed him a smile that transformed her features. Rick cleared his throat as he chased away the thought that this woman was not unattractive and tried not to notice that she bore a passing resemblance to Lori.
Daryl glanced between his friend and the injured woman, having instantly picked up on the physical similarity to Rick's dead wife. He only hoped that this did not undo the progress that the sheriff had made in recent weeks. That was the last thing anyone needed.
Bob stepped forward, "Well, as lovely as this dilapidated mall is, I think we should get going before sunset." He pulled at Sasha's arm and together they began to gather up their supplies.
The three newcomers seemed to have only the clothes on their backs but Benjamin insisted on not leaving his stick behind. Morgan also had a similar weapon, stowed behind the cash desk which he grabbed to bring along.Michonne raised her eyebrows at the wooden sticks, but decided against asking for the background story. There would be time to learn more about this trio back at the prison. Her heart fluttered nervously as she caught the glances between the injured woman and Rick. She refused to allow herself to feel negatively towards Nora or to feel possessive and jealous over Rick. He had no idea that her feelings towards him had grown from the crush she had harboured not long after they met into something deeper. She doubted he would ever return those feelings. Resolving to ignore both her romantic interest in the sheriff and any frisson between him and this woman, Michonne decided to move to Nora's right hand side and help manoeuvre her down the escalators with Benjamin.
Daryl strode ahead, eager to retrieve his bike. Once they had exited the department store, after retrieving their shopping carts, they negotiated their way down the walkways without major incident, although the feeling of ease lingered over the now extended group like a storm cloud.
After what seemed like an eternity, they were outside in the fresh air. It transpired that Nora had been holed up inside for two weeks and she in particular drew in huge breaths of air, as though she had been stranded underwater and was gasping for life. Benjamin stated that he would run around to the back of the mall and bring the truck around. Rick's group exchanged looks which did not go unnoticed.
"It's ok," the boy reassured them with a grin, "I'm eighteen. I took my driving test just before….you know." He cast his eyes downward.
"Benjamin's a good driver," Morgan said, looking amused, "Bit of a speed demon, but at least there ain't no speeding tickets to worry about."
Benjamin grinned and transferred Nora to Morgan before he took off along the sidewalk at the front of the mall, carrying his stick in his right hand. "Fast runner too," remarked Morgan, smiling.
"He be ok, back there, on his own?" Daryl enquired, taking the opportunity to light up a cigarette. "He's just a kid."
"Oh, Benjamin can take care of himself," stated Nora, "We made sure of it."
Daryl nodded, still anxious to be on his bike and tearing up the road towards home. The group stood, watching the horizon for Benjamin in the truck and the parking lot for any new dangers.
"So," began Nora, "where exactly are you guys taking us?"
"We have a prison…" Rick replied.
"A prison?!"
"I know how it sounds," soothed Rick, looking from Nora to Morgan, "But it's got fences."
"And watch towers," continued Michonne. "It's got a roof and medical supplies as well as an infirmary. There's plenty of space and we have a set up that works for everyone who lives there. It's safe, which is the most important thing." She gave the woman beside her a reassuring smile.
Nora gave a tight nod, "Can't be any worse than living in a damp, fake campsite, I suppose."
Rick caught Michonne's eye and they exchanged a smile. Michonne ignored the warm feeling in her chest and turned her gaze back to scanning the area around them.
Five minutes later, a sky blue pickup truck approached from the rear of the mall, coming to a stop directly before them. Benjamin jumped out of the driver's side and helped Morgan get Nora into the passenger seat. Morgan then climbed into the back of the vehicle, offering the remaining space up to the supplies Rick and the others had gathered.
Once the groups had arranged themselves, Benjamin agreed to follow Rick and would flash his lights should any problems occur, and Rick would do the same.
A short while later, Daryl was leading the two vehicles, back on his bike, the wind blowing through his hair, his thoughts lost in imagining how delicious it would feel to lay his eyes upon the smiling freckled face of his woman. He would savour it as he used to with any chocolate bar he found. Only then would he truly be home; when those blue orbs of hers fastened upon him and he could swim in the light of her dimpled grin. He barely noticed the sun falling through the sky as he pictured himself entering their cell and crawling onto their now shared bed, the warmth from her seeping into his bones and his heart. He almost felt a physical ache to bury his head into her neck and breathe her in.
It was then that he noticed the smoke. Grey plumes billowed up from the direction of the prison and he almost fell from his bike in terror.
Slowing, he pulled up alongside Rick.
"You see that?" Daryl enquired, breathlessly trying to swallow down the fear climbing up his chest.
Rick's eyes shone with a panic akin to Daryl's but the sheriff took a moment, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I see it." He said weakly, his face draining of colour.
Daryl ground his teeth together and looked back at the smoke, as he heard Benjamin's truck come to a stop behind them.
"We-I…" began Rick as Daryl noticed the sheriff's left leg bouncing up and down nervously.
Michonne's face appeared from the passenger seat of the truck, her left hand on Rick's arm. "We'll get back there as soon as we can. But we don't know what has happened and tearing off hell for leather won't help if we end up in trouble." Her eyes were worried as she peered through the windscreen.
Rick closed his eyes and gulped in air. He looked up at Daryl, "You go ahead. But be careful." The sheriff's blue eyes held a far away light, and Daryl knew he would be trying not to imagine worse case scenarios involving Carl and Judith.
Daryl revved up and sped off, ignoring Michonne's plea for calm. Now was not the time for calm. He was not surprised to see Rick keeping up with him in his mirror. Both men had their very reason for living back at that prison and nothing would stop them from heading towards any potential danger to save those kids and Carol.
"No. No, no, no, no, no," moaned Daryl as he jumped off the bike without even waiting for it to stop. He winced at the sight before him, unsure of what to do first.
There were walkers strolling nonchalantly around the grounds, across the yard, in and out of the dining area and no doubt inside. One tower was a smoking mess of debris.
The panic clawed up Daryl's throat as he heard Rick's truck stop and doors slam. He noticed a number of vehicles on the grass outside of the fences of the prison and took off, running across to them with Rick, Michonne and Sasha following. Bob stood open mouthed at the truck, taking in the devastation.
Michonne reached the cars first, and stumbled upon the body of Tyreese, his head almost hanging off his reanimated body, writhing on the ground.
"Tyyyy!" Sasha screamed, falling to her knees by her brother's side.
Daryl gulped and surveyed the area, noting some dead walkers leaving a trail towards the trees around the clearing. He moved further along, paying no heed to the dead stumbling around, his eyes straying to the trees every now and again as he tried to fathom out what had happened here.
Stopping short, he recognised a prone body laying face down on the ground. He nudged the corpse onto its back using one foot. The Governor. He had been shot through his good eye.
Daryl raised his head and shouted to Rick, who had been crouched over Tyreese, probably putting him down.
A couple of walkers came within his space, so he grabbed his knife and disposed of them quickly as Rick approached, leaving a tearful Sasha at her brother's body, Michonne comforting her.
Daryl noticed that Rick's eyes were wild with barely suppressed panic, his gaze wandering around without focussing.
"Rick!" Daryl hissed, grabbing his friend by the shoulders, "Look!"
Looking down, Rick took in the sight of his slain enemy. His head reeled up in shock.
"He was shot. Long range, from behind. Probably from those trees." Daryl gestured behind him, desperate to run across and study the ground in that area for tracks.
Rick's head whipped around and he swept his gaze across the area Daryl had gestured towards.
"Need to…" Rick's voice broke, he cleared his throat, "Need to check inside. Judith. Carl." He turned and began to run across the grass, shoving and grappling walkers out of his path.
Daryl stood, his heart telling him to head in the opposite direction, through the forest. His head told him that he needed to stick with Rick and also hope that perhaps their loved ones had found a hiding place while whatever went down occurred. Carol had experience in concealing herself, he tried to reason with his fear, presumed dead, but there was every possibility that she was holed up as she had been in the tombs. If she wasn't – he bit his lip and fought back tears which threatened. No. Gathering himself, the hunter ran after Rick, catching up with him at the destroyed main fence.
"Carl!" bellowed Rick, disregarding the noise he made, brandishing his knife and gun and cutting down any body that got within arm's reach.
Daryl had his knife, and kept pace with the sheriff, his blue eyes roaming the prison and his ears straining for any sound which wasn't the dead.
"Carl!" Rick shouted again as they moved across the dining area, the light fading as the sky turned a burnt red, almost like blood on water, spreading across the landscape at leisure.
"Carol!" Daryl screamed, not knowing where to look first.
The two men moved inside, felling walkers, barely noticing that Michonne had caught up having left Sasha crying on Bob's shoulder. She too called out for Carl and Carol, her katana cutting and slicing.
Daryl ran across the main atrium, launching a running kick into the midriff of the leader of a group of the dead, sending it careering backwards into the others, not stopping to watch them fall into a groaning mass of wriggling limbs.
He headed to their cell, hoping against hope that whatever had happened had done so with warning so that Carol could gather some of her things or by some miracle, leave some kind of message or sign for him.
Bursting inside, his heart fell as he realised it all looked exactly as it had that morning. Moving across to the desk, he noticed her book which held the pressed Cherokee Rose was still in its usual place. Hope faded. He checked every surface, scanned the concrete walls for any scribbled word or possible communication. Nothing. Her knife was gone, but that was to be expected.
Gulping back sheer terror, Daryl whirled around and ran straight into a walker at the door to the cell. They fell, with the hunter atop the corpse, but his knife fell to the floor to his right. Struggling against the creature, it's teeth snapping and rattling, he fought and rolled nearer to his weapon, but now his panic and fear overflowed. Punching out with one hand, he grabbed his knife with the other as his vision clouded with tears and he manoeuvred the thing beneath him. In the distance he could hear Rick and Michonne still fruitlessly shouting for the younger Grimes.
"No!" Daryl heard himself cry in a strangled voice as he stabbed the walker blindly in the face.
He kept stabbing, stabbing, stabbing, as the tears and anger flowed. Finally he dropped his knife and howled, "Nooooooooo!"
Outside by their truck, Morgan, Benjamin and Nora stood exchanging grim looks and observing the carnage before them in stunned silence.