The Walking Deth - Part II

Only Way Onward - Chapter I

Companions

AN: This is where I decided to continue on with my ownstoryline, starting in a similar place to where the season 4 finale of TWD left off. I hope you like it. The first few chapters don't have much Bethyl as I am trying to reunite them, but please don't give up. They'll be back together soon.

"This last one, and you've got them all."

His voice was gruff and gentle at the same time, letting a puff of swirling mist escape into the cold air from his mouth as he spoke. I inhaled deeply until my lungs were filled with the chilly air and then let the air seep out through slightly parted lips as I carefully drew my index finger in.

Draw in the trigger, don't jerk it, and be prepared for a lil' kickback.

My ears rang from the sound of the shot and my shoulder hurt a little from where the rifle had kicked back as it had several times in the last few minutes, but after hearing the chink of metal against metal and watching the can throttle into the air and land with a gentle thud, discomfort was replaced with a feeling of satisfaction. Seven cans had been perched on top of the gravestones, seven now lay in the dirt, through my seven attempts to shoot them down.

I turned over to Mix to watch his reaction. He was still contently slapping his scraggly tail against the ground. No walkers were approaching – yet.

"You're an excellent marksman Lil' Miss Beth. Really don't think you're needing my pointers anymore." David said with a grin that creased the skin around his grey eyes.

"I've been givin' pointers before." I said, thinking of Daryl. "Although I don't have that much experience with a huntin' rifle."

"Oh yeah, what's your weapon of choice?"

"I've tried a few but most recently was taught on a crossbow."

David raised a curious eyebrow.

"A crossbow eh? Don't see many of them around."

"Has the advantage of stealth."

"I do wonder how arrows would fare against the hide of an animal."

"It's all still good, you get your meat pre-skewered."

We both chuckled.

"Can't eat tin cans though." David tipped his head to where the rusted and collapsed cans lay in the dirt.

I strolled the one hundred or so feet over to the line of gravestones and started picking up the cans and replacing them on their perch.

"One more round?" I asked David as he approached behind me.

"Think that's just about enough for today, don't need to be tempting fate, and we could save that ammo for a more dire need."

"C'mon, Mixy is still happy, there are no walkers about."

David looked cautiously down on the scraggly white furred, one eyed dog and examined his tail beating on the ground with a gentle thumping. He sighed and then fumbled around in his pocket. I could hear the sharp clinking of metal and then he pulled out his hand and produced three more rifle rounds.

"We'll make it an even ten, and then that's it. It's starting to get dark and I don't know how much longer our luck will last with them...err...umm...walkers."

The last three had gone down too quickly and disappointment twisted in my chest as I knew it was time to pack it in for the day. I left the cans where they lay in the dirt by the gravestones and turned to follow Mix and David back to the house.

It was the same white funeral home that Daryl and I had come across before. The same one that we thought we might share together, before Anton's group took me, and before we found Maggie and the others. Even though I was glad we had found Maggie, I still wondered what life would have been like for Daryl and I, if I had never been taken that night.

David, I believed, was a good person, which was very lucky for me. When he pulled up beside me in that sedan with the familiar white cross painted on the back windscreen, fear had gripped me. Then when he had opened the door and I had taken in the sight of the white hair and beard and crinkled aging skin, I had thought for a second that my dad had descended from the heavens to rescue me. Maybe that's why I was so willing to jump in the car with him. That and I thought I had better chance with him, than the crazy, angry Anton who was chasing me down the road covered in muck and blood and swinging a knife around.

On closer inspection David was not as much like my dad as I had originally thought. His hair was more grey than white, and a lot shorter than I remembered daddy's being, and he wasn't as old as my dad had been. I would put him somewhere between fifty and sixty. But he did have the same warm eyes and soft smile that I remembered on daddy. I was still cautious of his gentle appearance, as I had been fooled once before, but getting a wet, hot and sticky lick from the scraggily haired back seat passenger had put me somewhat at ease.

Mix was one clever and useful dog. When we had first come back to the funeral home David had sent Mix out on his own to check the house, and he had come bounding back happily switching his tail and spinning twice telling us it was all clear. David had informed me that Mix had an uncanny sense of danger and he was always sent ahead first to check things out.

I had told David then of how Daryl and I had come to his home earlier and how Daryl had found Mix out the front of the house. David had asked if I was responsible for eating his food, sleeping in his bed, letting the dead in and stealing the funeral homes other car. I had admitted to all but stealing the car, and as penalty David had made me scrub the walls and floors removing all the muck that the walkers had dragged through his home.

David was a very clean person, which was something Daryl and I had picked up on when we had stayed here earlier. Even now as we walked up the steps of the porch he nodded his head towards my feet indicating that I needed to take my boots off. I leaned against the side of the house and tugged them off one by one, and stood them by the door. Mix gave them a sniff then circled around them and lay himself down on the tiled floor as if he would protect them.

"He likes you." David said nodding to the pile of dirty fur with its tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"I like him too." I said, giving Mix a scratch on the chin. "He's a real good guard dog."

David nodded in agreement. "The best. I'm grateful to the lord that I found him."

"Found him? You didn't know him before all this?"

"Nope. I've only had him around for a couple months. I was scavenging through a motor home a few miles from here and one of those dead things – the walkers – came out at me, caught me off guard, next thing I know this scraggly mutt was tearing it down to the ground. Saved my life he did."

I gave Mix another firm rub as praise for his past deeds.

"Why'd you call him Mix?"

"I didn't know what kind of dog he was, just thought he was a mix, so that was what I called him."

"Cute." I responded.

"I guess he might be, under all that dirt. Won't let me give him a bath."

I ran my fingers through Mix's matted and muddy fur, trying to work through the tangles, thinking of another loyal companion who didnt like to bathe. Despite Mix's scraggly appearance he was clearly well trained, and likely well loved.

"Do you think someone is missin' him?" I asked.

"I think if there was someone left to miss him, he wouldn't be here with us."

I wasn't too sure about that. There were people to miss me, but I wasn't with them.

We were lucky enough to have stove cooked meal that night. David had been out looking for gas canisters that day he had found me and he had been lucky to find two, which he claimed would last him weeks, but maybe only half as long now I was there. I had been pretty indecisive about whether I was staying. All I ever thought about was getting back to Maggie and the others, and maybe finding Daryl. But David kept insisting the outside world was no place for a young girl to go wandering about on her own, and recent events had proven him to be right. Although I still made a point of pressing the matter every day, and that evening while sitting at dinner was no different.

"I would like to get back to my sister." I interrupted David telling me some story of his road trip to Canada.

David stopped scooping the soup from his bowl around and gently put the spoon aside. He looked at me with warm but stern eyes.

"I told you I can't take you there."

David had told me from the start when I had fist mentioned Terminus that he didn't like the place and he refused to go there, although he would never actually tell me why.

"I don't understand why you won't take me there." I pressed on.

"Nothing but bad memories at that place." He replied, picking up his spoon again and scooping up the soup thoughtfully.

He always spoke as if he had been there before, and it always sounded like it was painful for him. I just wished he would tell me the source of his pain.

"Are there bad people there?"

David was gently turning his head from side to side.

"Not bad, just a little… lost."

"What do you mean? Everyone who comes there is lost, right?"

"I guess... You don't always want to follow those who are lost though do you?"

I shrugged my shoulders, not entirely sure what he was referring to.

"It's better just to stay put. In a place you know." He added.

I had spent three days with David and he had never given me reason to mistrust him. He had been a complete gentleman, giving me space to be alone with my thoughts and chatting with me by the fire when I was in the mood. He was a godly man and insisted on saying grace before every meal, and thanking the lord every time we scavenged a house and found something of use. He had known this place before the turn, I had gathered that much, but every time I asked him about his life before he would clam up, just like when I asked him about Terminus.

I poked around at the piece of stewed meat covered in broth. It tasted pretty terrible, and was most likely just offal.

"I wouldn't mind some real food you know...Somethin' that doesn't come from a can." I thought out loud.

"I only had a small harvest last month, don't get much during winter."

He was talking about his small vegetable patch out back which was bare and almost frozen over.

"There's still meat out there. I wouldn't mind shooting at somethin' that moves."

"I don't much have the stomach for meat that moves."

He continued spooning the soup into his mouth staring into his almost empty bowl.

"Are you against killin' animals or somethin'?"

"I'm fine with killing animals, just not when there are other alternatives."

David poked around at a piece of meat in his soup. "Someone has already done the killing for us, and put it in a convenient can."

"That won't last forever." I assured him.

"Well Lil Miss, when the time comes that I must kill to eat, then I guess I'll have to. That time isn't now."

I felt my lip turn out in a pout and I continued to push what might be called food around in my bowl. I wondered if my pouting would have the same effect on David as it did on my dad.

David let out a long impatient sigh, and then gave me a defeated grin. "Okay, you two can go out tomorrow."

I beamed up at him, happy in my success. In truth I didn't really want to go hunting for animals, but I did want to improve my marksmanship. If I ever saw Daryl again, I was going to show him just how much I wasn't obligated to him.

I was washing up after dinner, enjoying the hot soapy water on my hands, when I heard the piano playing from the parlour. I pulled the plug, letting the sink drain and then dried off my hands on the tea towel and went out to give David an audience.

He was struggling somewhat at the piano, missing keys and hesitating between each move, like an amateur.

"Did you play much before?" I asked.

He was startled a little and turned to face me. "Nope. It was my wife and sons who played."

That was the first time he had said anything about his family. I walked further into the room and stood behind him, wanting to know more.

"Are they dead?" I asked cautiously.

He turned his head back to the piano keys. "My wife and two of my sons are." He admitted sadly.

"How many sons did you have?"

"I had three."

"So where is the last one?"

David let out a sigh and then reached in front of him and started thumbing at the pages of the song book.

"Not here."

Another one of his cryptic answers and I doubted I would get any more out of him, at least not tonight. He looked completely morose, with his downcast eyes and skin sagging downward around his mouth. It was the saddest I had seen him since I had been here.

"You know, I can play a little." I offered.

He looked up at me eagerly, all the sorrow suddenly gone from his face.

"Would you, please?"

I motioned for him to move over on the stool and he slid off the end and stood up reaching for the song book and started flicking through the pages.

"Here play this one, it's my favourite."

He pointed to the notes on the open page.

It was Amazing grace. A song I had heard and sung dozens of times. He had just asked me to play the piano, but I was overwhelmed with the desire to sing as well.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
was blind but now I see.

When I turned to see if he was enjoying the song, he had tears streaming down his face, and was clearly overcome with emotion.

"Are you okay." I said reaching out a hand to touch his arm.

He wiped away his tears with his sleeve and then gently touched my hand on his arm. "Yes, you play the piano and sing beautifully."

He was looking down at the piano keys now with a frown on his face.

"Are you thinkin' of your family?" I queried

He nodded his head slowly. "Yeah." He pointed back to the page. "Why don't you finish the song, lil Miss?"

I put my hands back to the keys and continued playing, wondering if he would ever tell me more.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
and grace my fears relieved;
how precious did that grace appear
the hour I first believed.

The next day after I had helped David scrub some towels against the washboard and dust out the parlour, and stack some firewood. I spent a little extra time with the firewood, hefting it over my head and pressing it in to the air. It wasn't only useful to improve my marksmanship. If ever wanted to use that crossbow without Daryl's help, I would need to build up the strength in my arms and back too. When I was done with my strength training, Mix and I took to the woods nearby to see what we could catch. David had tried to deter me from going out as much as possible that day. He refused to let me take the car out, not that I was sure I remembered how to drive anyway. He spent the whole morning insisting I wouldn't find much out at this time of year, but I remembered Daryl had always managed to bring something home in winter. His last hurdle was that I take the single shot rifle, said it made less noise and I was less likely to go spraying ammunition all over the place. That didn't bother me, a crossbow was only single shot too.

We hadn't ventured all that far into the woods before I caught sight of a rabbit burrow only just visible under the thick cover of damp leaves. I dropped down pressing my knee into the icy cold and wet earth and carefully and silently examined my surroundings, looking for further signs of rabbit activity. The silence was broken when Mix let out a happy bark and bounded off towards the burrow and excitedly stuffed his snout inside.

"No, Mixy!" I called after him.

Suddenly a bundle of grey fur was darting out across the leaves in to the distance. I hoisted the rifle up, took aim, fired and watched in satisfaction as the grey bundle tumbled along the ground.

Hitting a moving target, at that speed and at that distance, that was something I wish I could brag to Daryl about.

Mixy bounded over to the rabbit and began sniffing at it. Her tail was still wagging back and forth which meant no walkers were nearby, this was good, as I wasn't done yet. I picked up the rabbit and looped the rope, which was tied in a knot at my shoulder, around its neck. Then I tucked my hand into the pouch at my waist and pulled out another rifle round. I opened the bolt lever and dropped the round in, then pushed it down and closed the lever.

"Did you plan that Mix?" I asked the dog.

He answered with a tail wag.

I walked on further into the bush with Mix by my side, nose to the ground sniffing out what I assumed to be a trail. He stopped suddenly and started bounding side to side and barking. I began wishing I had left him at home, he was going to scare everything away with the noise he was making. I looked over to the tree in front of us and saw two squirrels dashing across the branches. That must have been what Mix was excited about.

A target as small as a squirrel, racing across a tree - if I got that I would be very impressed. I took aim and fired and as I half expected, I missed.

"Oh well." I said with a shrug of my shoulders, I turned to Mix who had his front legs stretched out in front of him in the leaves, his hind legs were up in the air and his tail held out stiff behind him. His lips were curled and he let out a low growl, a sound I had never heard him make before.

"What is it boy?" I asked following his line of sight.

From behind the tree that the squirrels had been racing through, a walker came stumbling out, its clothes brown with filth, its skin grey and rotting with blackening flesh exposed around its neck. Its dead eyes locked on to mine and it staggered towards me, arms outstretched and mouth moaning.

I didn't think Mix was trying to tell me about the squirrels after all.

I lined up the walker and went to take a shot, then the empty clink of the firing pin reminded me it was a single shot rifle and I had forgotten to reload after taking a shot at those squirrels. I carefully backed away from the walker while fumbling around in my pouch for another round. Mix was going crazy now darting around in circles barking and growling and sneering.

I dropped a round into the rifle and then drew the rifle up ready to take aim, taking a step back to steady myself. I backed in to something behind me, it was hard, but forgiving, so it wasn't a tree. Then the rotting stench filled my nose and I felt the cold dead hands grasp on to my neck.

I took a step to twist around and slipped on the wet leaves, letting out a scream and firing into the air as I fell to the ground. The walker was crawling on top of me now, heading for my face. I took the rifle in two hands and swiped it across my chest hitting the stock into the walker's skull. It was still dragging itself forward, pulling on my sweater, so I smashed at it a few more times until its skull exploded and slushy brain oozed out all over my chest.

I rolled the body off me and made a move to stand up but the other walker was right near me now. It lunged towards me and I braced myself for impact, but suddenly it was yanked backward falling flat on its face. Mix was behind it pulling at the leg of the pants.

I quickly stood up and glanced around ready to make my escape and felt my blood run cold as I saw we were now surrounded with walkers.

"Let's go Mix!" I shouted to the dog.

He let go of the walker and bounded to my side. I tried to load another round into the gun but my hands were slick with sweat and fumbling in panic. I knocked the pouch and watched in horror as all the rounds tumbled to the ground and were lost among the mud and leaves.

Mix was running circles around me now barking and growling as ferociously as a little fluffy dog could. One of the walkers lunged for him, but Mix skilfully dodged out of the way, and the walker fell to the ground. I used the butt of the rifle to smash that walkers head in while it was down. It sent a stream of blood and gore up my arms and all over my hands, something I was accustomed to.

There were still three more walkers stumbling towards us. I swung the rifle out and let it smack into the head of one with a wet crunch, knocking it to the ground, and then took another swing at it just to make sure it would stay down. The rifle slipped through all the blood and sweat on my fingers and went flying over the head of a nearby walker, falling into a bush behind it.

I turned around to make a run for it but as I stepped one of the walkers lunged at my feet and I fell to the ground. Mix was on to him biting at its clothing and trying to drag it off me, but this one was determined, it kept crawling towards me dragging Mix behind him.

I reached down and pulled out the steak knife I had got from the cutlery drawer and put in my boot the first night I had stayed with David. I had put it there as I wasn't sure of David's intention. I had not needed it for David, but I was glad I had chosen to keep it in there. It wasn't the best weapon, but at this point it was all I had. I forced the knife through the walkers eyeball and up into its skull and then kicked it away from my legs.

There were two more left now, stumbling slowly towards me. David would be angry if I left that rifle, and I was sure I could handle the two so I decided to end them. While Mix darted between them providing a distraction I drove the steak knife in through the ear of one. I tried the same on the second, but its skull was much firmer. I was wrestling with the walker now, pushing its snapping jaws away from my throat and trying to pry its skeletal hands away from my shoulder. It was a strong one, and I thought it must have been freshly turned with the way it was overpowering me. I had backed my way into a tree now and panic was setting in as I felt myself weakening. Then a flash of white and fur was in my face and the walker was knocked to the ground. Mix was now tearing at its throat, throwing his head from side to side. I took my knife and stabbed it into the walker's brain until it was finally still.

I was covered in blood and mud and walker brains, and my hands were trembling and my heart was pounding in my ears. Mix was covered in mud, dirt and leaves and his mouth was a crimson red from where he had bit the walker. I had been scared for my life, but now I was scared for Mix. What would happen if a dog ate walker flesh?

"Think we should head home." I said shakily to my faithful companion.

As I made my way back towards the funeral home I could see David running out towards me. He approached me with lines of concern creasing his forehead.

"What happened to you? You're covered in blood."

"It's not mine." I said stumbling on my trembling legs.

He grabbed me by shoulders to steady me. "You run into trouble?"

I nodded my head and then I felt tears starting to brew and sobs starting to take hold of my body.

"Beth, are you okay?"

"I just...I just came so close!"

David started shaking his head and his face twisted in anguish. "I shouldn't have let you go out there alone." David said regretfully.

"I wasn't alone, Mix did a good job of protecting me." I said looking down at the dog.

"Well we must give thanks to our little friend."

We both turned to Mix who was sitting by my side, and nuzzling his nose into my leg affectionately.

"He bit a walker." I said solemnly.

David gave Mix a quick rub behind the ear. "He's done that a dozen times, lil Miss, and he's still the same old Mix."

He gave me a reassuring smile and then pulled my arm over his shoulder and walked me back to the house.

I was still crying when we got to the door, completely overcome with emotion. I don't know why I was taking it so hard. I had come close to being mauled by walker's dozens of times before.

David was concerned for me too, he took me into the house without even making me take my boots off and I cringed on his behalf when I saw the trail of mud and blood I left behind on the polished floorboards. He didn't seem bothered and continued on in and up the stairs and to the upstairs bathroom. He sat me down on the edge of the bathtub. And then ducked back out of the room and returned a minute later holding a grey fleece sweater and pants.

"You wash up Lil' Miss, and put these on. I'll get a fire started."

I took the clothes gratefully and watched him leave, closing the door behind him.

I glanced around me at the familiar bathroom. The same one that Daryl and I had discovered over a week ago. I was sitting on the same bath he had told me he was going to fill for me. I smiled as I imagined him carting all that water up the stairs. I thought about how he had done the same over at the house in the Pecan grove. He had been so good to me trying to help me heal after being with Len and the others, and he had done such a good job of it. Len was just a distant memory now. I missed Daryl terribly. I missed Maggie and the others, and it was killing me to think they were only a couple hours' drive away. They didn't even know where I was or who I was with. Would they be scared for me? Or would they somehow now I was okay?

I think maybe that was what had made me shaky today after the walker attack, knowing that if I died out there, none of them would ever know what happened to me. Although I'm sure they could make assumptions, there was a certain peace you could have in knowing what has become of your loved ones.

After I had cleaned up and put the new cloths on, I bundled up my bloody mess of clothing and took them downstairs to where David was sitting by the fire. He jumped up when he saw me and stepped towards me.

"I'll see these washed for you." He said, taking the clothing.

I nodded my head, and he pushed past me towards the doorway.

"I need to leave, David." I said firmly, interrupting his stride.

He stopped and turned to me with a look of confusion on his face.

"I need to go to Terminus." I added.

David began shaking his head again. He opened his mouth to reply but before he could talk I interrupted him.

"I could have died today, and none of my loved ones would have known."

"But you didn't." He insisted.

"But I could have. I need to be with them. I need to know what has happened with them."

David was still shaking his head at me, but I could see a softening in his gaze.

"Please David, you need to take me to them. I need to be with my family. What's the point in livin' if I can't be with the ones I love?"

He was silent for a moment, frowning down at my bundle of clothing thoughtfully. After a few seconds of thought he lifted his head slowly and gave me a small smile and a gentle nod.