You're all such wonderful reviewers!
Yes, Daryl and the Lt. are not in any shape to go anywhere, but they're stubborn and believe me there will be hell to pay. That's half the fun, isn't it? Here's a Merle chapter, BRAZEN *looking at you*
So there was a thing done over on tumblr, a pretty little manip by Jack And Honey...it's very lovely, search the Caryl tag, you'll find it. Thanks for it, Jack And Honey, I think it's just aces! (Made my week!)
Chapter Nine: Adjasou
**Merle**
They had been tracking his goddamned ass for six fucking days.
Six days they were twisting and turning in the woods surrounding the mall. Six days he had to put up with whiny negative remarks and Glenn's bitching. They had been going back to the convent at night to sleep, because the woods were thick with biters, for some reason they liked the cool, low lying area just south of the mall and they wandered up now and then at the scent of fresh food.
But the trails they were following, one lead to the water, a fucking deer trail and the other he found looped around and back to the mall. A biter's trail for all he fucking knew.
This trail, though, this one they were currently following, started in the south and went deep into the woods, where it curved east, then went back north, still in the deep heart of the woods.
There was something about the trail though. Something Merle didn't think made much sense.
"Was Rick injured?" He asked Glenn.
"I don't think so," the man replied. "Why?"
"There's drag marks, like someone was dragging their leg."
"Could have been Andrea," Sasha suggested.
"Could have been a lot of things," Merle snarled, heading through a bank of leafy underbrush where something had barrel assed its way through, keeping off the trail.
In all honesty Daryl had the patience for tracking, Merle could do it if he wanted, but he wasn't as capable as his baby brother. Not that anyone needed to know that. If it had been Daryl and these woods, he would have found Rick within hours.
Of course, it didn't help that Merle had a gaggle of whiny assed bitches with him.
"What the fuck it that?" Sasha demanded as they emerged on the other side of the underbrush.
Merle struggled to see what she was pointing as and moved one step to his right to peer around a tree at a hanging corpse, strung up in the trees, a sign dangling almost merrily from its feet, swaying in the wind.
"Minefield beyond this point?" Glenn read.
Eyeing the woods around them, Merle squinted in the direction of a sunny meadow beyond the corpse and sign. The trail seemed to have disappeared beyond the underbrush, lost in a toss-up of leaves, like there had been a scrap or something.
Spying a piece of white among the sea of autumn colours of the forest floor, Merle headed towards it, foot cracking a branch beneath him, the forest floor giving a little under it.
He froze and removed his foot, peering down, before he squatted, brushing leaves off the tops of a bunch of twigs and branches that had been set over top a very deep pit.
"Mind your feet," he ordered Glenn who was approaching.
Carefully circumventing what he saw of the trap, Merle continued to head for the piece of white and scooped it up to examine it.
"Andrea had her leg in a cast, right?" He asked just to confirm his memory.
"Yeah, Herschel cast it as soon as we brought back the medical supplies from the base."
"Right, well, I think we're on her trail, at least."
"Tyreese was with her," Sasha said.
Tossing the piece of plaster at her, Merle stood up. "Well, all we know for now is that Andrea was here, but the trail heads off into that 'minefield' and I don't feel that confident with my tracking abilities to follow it step for step."
"So what do we do?" Glenn asked. "We can't just tiptoe through a minefield."
"Find a road, I guess." Merle glanced around. "There's always a road in."
..-~-..
..-~-..
"What if they're not friendly? You saw that thing in the trees," Glenn argued.
"We ain't going to strut up to their door, numb-nuts," Merle replied. "But if they took our people, don't you want to know? I mean, you were in their place once, how'd your experience go?"
"Wouldn't have been in their place if it wasn't for you, as I recall," Glenn replied archly.
"Bygones, little man," Merle muttered as they found a dirt road, heading north and south, just east through the thick trees. The road was desolate, almost encompassed by trees and grass and as soon as they hit it, they headed north towards the area they were trying to circumnavigate.
They had decided to hoof it, wanting to get the silent drop on whoever would have set up such heavy defences. Merle didn't like walking into what could possibly be another trap, but if he really wanted that wine the old nun promised.
That was his excuse for being a sucker for a pair of honest blue eyes and he was going to stick to it.
Taking the first left handed turn off the road down a dusty country drive, he pulled his pistol and kept it in hand just in case as they passed beneath towering oak trees with lacy Spanish moss hanging from their branches, Merle began to tense up. At the end of the drive they could see a picture perfect little old plantation style farmhouse, but what made him unnerved more than the multitude of ambush points they were walking into, was the live cattle that grazed in the fields, which he could spy between the trunks of the oaks.
He paused and shook his head.
"No," he muttered. He didn't like this. "Back up," he ordered the others quietly. "We don't want to be here."
Quickly taking the trail they had come in by, Merle didn't pause until they were clear of the tree lined drive, until they were in the woods on the opposite side of it, with good cover.
"Let's hope they're friendly," Glenn said as they cowered behind trees.
"You ever know someone who plants a minefield to be a nice guy?" Sasha inquired.
"We have to get in there somehow," Merle said.
Dropping her pack, Sasha undid her belt holster and dropped her pistol to the ground with the pack, fumbling for the bottom of her white shirt.
"What are you doing?" Merle demanded.
"I don't know, but if I die you can put crazy assed bitch on my tombstone," she explained, tearing off a decent sized piece of her shirt and tying it to a twig.
Merle watched with a little hesitation as she stepped out of the trees, weaponless, carrying only a twig with a piece of white material on it. He wasn't about to stop her, if she wanted to be a lunatic, then he'd at least be around to put a bullet in her walking corpse.
From the trees Glenn and Merle watched as Sasha made her way up the tree lined driveway, heading for the farmhouse slowly, the white flag held up high.
She made it about halfway up the drive, before a shot rang out.
For a moment Merle regretted letting her go as Sasha's spine shot up painfully straight, but he forgot his regret when the flag at the top of the twig broke and fell to the ground, half of the stick going with it.
Sasha high tailed her ass back towards them, skidding into the woods like Pete Rose.
"Well, that was my plan," she growled.
"That was a warning," Merle said. "Crack shot like that could have put a bullet between a gnat's eyes at a hundred paces. They don't want trouble." Slapping Sasha on the shoulder with a grin, Merle tilted his head deeper into the woods. "Come on, we'll find another way to get their attention."
..-~-..
..-~-..
"I feel like Wile E. Coyote," Glenn sighed.
"Nah," Merle said as they drew a diagram of their plan of action out on the forest floor, "more like Sylvester and Tweety Bird."
"Guys," Sasha said from her spot at watch.
"Yeah, well I don't want the old lady to catch me, okay?"
"Guys?!" Sasha snapped. "Head's up."
Pushing to their feet, Merle and Glenn spied a group of about four or five heading down the drive towards them, all of them heavily armed.
Just about to think of going for his gun, Tyreese poked his head out from around the ground and beamed. "Sasha!" He cried out.
The woman didn't hesitate. She dropped her weapon and raced for her brother.
The group with him tensed at her approach, but cleared a path for her to swoop up to Tyreese, throwing her arms around his neck and squealing.
The leader of the group approached them and stood boldly in the middle of the road, Merle assumed he was keeping in the range of his crack shot. He eyed the man's worn camo pants and the khaki shirt quietly, before stepping out of the woods.
"Throw down," the man ordered.
"We don't want trouble," Glenn said.
The man turned chocolate brown eyes on him. "Good, throw down."
Glenn did so immediately, Merle hesitated.
"Merle," Glenn snarled.
Hating to give in to a military prick, Merle sneered, before dropping his pistol.
The soldier boy eyed them. "How many more you of you stashed in those woods?"
"Just us," Glenn said.
Holding up his hand, the man displayed three fingers and gave a thumb's up, probably to his crack shot.
"You the leader of this group?" The man asked Glenn.
He shook his head. "No, our leader is—"
"Military," Merle interrupted before Glenn could let them know Rick was missing, it wouldn't do to let another group know they were vulnerable and weak. "Marine."
The soldier narrowed his eyes suspiciously at them. "From the Albany base?"
"Yeah."
Tilting his head, the soldier eyed him quietly. "What's his name?"
"Vancoughnett."
A brow quirked. "Cajun?"
"Yeah."
The man's face went from stoic, to deep interest in them, he eyed the others quickly. "Recon sniper?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
Shifting on his feet, the soldier bowed his head and seemed to think thoroughly before answering. "Yeah, I know the man. You go back to your people and bring him here, tell him Corporal Delgado wants to report in to his Sergeant, you can get your injured member then. Drive up this lane, you'd better be flying a blue flag over your vehicle or I swear my eye in the sky will punch your faces into your headrests with a bullet. And hey," he added before his people began backing away, "if more than five of you pile out of that vehicle when it stops, the extras will be dead weight, you feel me? Sergeant Hard-ass or not, we don't want this place crawling with your people."
Stopping beside Tyreese and Sasha the man said, "you can go back with your people if you want."
Tyreese nodded. "Thanks, man, but I'll stay until then."
"Tyreese—" Sasha began.
"It's okay, Sash, go back with them. I'm fine here." Tyreese said. "Haven't killed me yet, I'll see you later, okay?"
She nodded and carefully made her way back to Merle and Glenn's side.
"Blue flag, five or less," the man – Delgado – reminded them, before he started back with his people, boldly turning his back on them, knowing full well he had cover.
The three from the convent waited until it was safe, before scooping up their weapons.
"Fucking soldier," Merle snarled, spitting on the ground in spite.
..-~-..
..-~-..
By the time they drove in to the convent it was almost sundown, the place was still and quiet, the way Merle liked it after a long day of humping earth.
Stepping out of the old blue diesel, he looked around to see what he could see, before heading off for the infirmary to get the Cajun. The sooner they got their people back the faster he could get drunk off his ass.
Carol approached him from the dorms, Annie at her heels, Judith in her arms.
"Any luck?" She asked.
Taking in her somewhat high strung look, Merle slowed, and then stopped, eyeing her. "Found Tyreese and Andrea, John Lee Pettimore has them down Copperhead Road."
"Are they in trouble?"
"I don't think so…the leader wants to meet up with the Cajun, think they just want to sniff us out. I'm pretty sure they're more scared of us then we should be of them. Going to hit up the Cajun now, see if he feels up to travelling."
"Good luck finding him," Carol said.
"What do you mean?"
"He and Daryl snuck out some time last night, they haven't been back yet, Michonne and Sister Joan are out looking for them now."
"Where's the nun?"
"She's on the wall."
Sighing heavily, Merle ran his hand over his face. "This is fucked, who was watching them?"
"They snuck out, Merle. It's no one's fault but their own," Carol stated. "Believe me, we're all just as upset as you, but you can't find a martyr to burn in this, it won't do anyone any good."
"I'm going to kick his ass when he gets back," Merle growled. "Little bastard's just getting over being shot in the gut and he's out wandering around? Little asshole."
Switching Judith to her one arm, Carol pulled Annie against her leg and covered her ear with her hand. "Well, just worry about resting up, I'll get Annie and Judith settled and then I'll bring you and the others some dinner."
"Hi, Mr. Merle!" Annie squawked.
"Hey, pipsqueak."
"You said three bad words," she pointed out.
"Get to bed you little possum," he snarled, "before I chase you up a tree."
Giggling, Annie followed Carol back into the dorms, as Merle marched off towards the infirmary. He didn't fucking need this shit and hassle after all the hoops he was jumping through for these fucking people.
"Vehicle!" Sister Mary Agnes shouted from the gate.
They were only supposed to shout when it was a vehicle that wasn't one of theirs.
Merle headed for the wall nearest him, leaping up onto it, eyeing the muted grey Grand Prix as it tore up the cattle trail, heading for the convent.
Shit, did the assholes from that group follow them? No, he was sure to keep his eye on their ass all the way home.
He reached for his pistol, prepared to defend the convent, as further down the wall Grace raised her rifle, peering down the sight to get a good look at the driver.
"It's Daryl!" She shouted, giving everyone the all clear.
Merle put his pistol back into the waistband of his pants and hopped off the wall, heading for the gate. He was going to wait until his baby bro was fully recovered then he was going to kick the shit out of him.
The Voodoo Dialect
Adjasou – The loa of spring water with protruding eyes and a bad humour. He's fond of rum, cognac and vermouth.