The Walking Deth - Part III

Where We Belong - Chapter 1

What Remains

Daryl's back was firm as an old oak and warm as the summer sun. It should have made me feel secure. He smelt of stale sweat, leather and charred tobacco. It should have been familiar. The steady rumble of the bike vibrated through my bones, and thrummed through my chest. It should have been comforting. Even the feel of Mix's matted fur against the back of my knuckles should have been soothing. But I felt uneasy, lost, and alone.

I had tried not to cry for the sake of Daryl. I had tucked my trembling lip between my teeth and forced my cheeks up in to a smile. I had hid the shaking of my hands by pretending I was scared of slipping, and gripped on to the leather around his waist with all the force I had in my fragile body. I had tried to be strong as he dealt with the loss of Carol, and with what he had to do, and what he had to witness, but as soon as his back was to me, my resolve started to quaver. With my face pressed in to his back I had to let the tears free; running hot and wet and plentiful down my cheeks. I was grateful for his leather vest and layers of flannel that would keep my tears off his skin, and the vibration of the bike would hopefully mask my gentle sobs.

We had been riding along an almost empty road surrounded on both sides by either dense woodland or ghost towns. We had come across the odd abandoned car, and wandering walker who would make feeble lunges towards us, and be flung to the ground by the motion of the bike or by Daryl's outstretched boot. We had passed through North Carolina according to the sign I had seen some hours ago, and were now somewhere in Virginia according to the sign I had seen most recently, yet the landscape still looked like home. With little sign of human life.

We were about half an hour past the last sign when Daryl started to slow the bike, easing back the throttle and applying the brake with his dirt and blood encrusted hands. As soon as we were slow enough for me to release my grip, I wiped the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater and tried to practice a few smiles so I could be prepared for when he stopped the bike and turned to face me.

When he had stopped he put his boots flat to the ground on either side of the bike to steady it and then tugged down on his bandana, revealing a line of dirt across his face when he turned towards me. He rubbed across his face smearing the dirt along his cheeks and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger to remove the grit that had made its way in during the ride.

"Need some mothafuckin' shades." He grumbled.

When he was done cleaning his eyes he cupped his hands together and blew into them as if they were cold. The air was quite cold out here. It was colder than it had been back at South Carolina, or at home in Georgia. I had been too pre-occupied to notice, and even now I felt numb to it all.

Daryl glanced back at me with his blue eyes flicking back and forth as they studied my face. I tucked my lip in under my teeth once more while he watched me, and hoped he couldn't tell I had been crying.

"Why are we stoppin' in the middle of nowhere?" I asked releasing my lip and forcing a cheerful tone into my voice.

His left eye squinted a little in response to my question, as if he could see through the false tone.

"I don't think they came this way." He tore his eyes away from mine and glanced back to the open road.

"What makes you say that?"

"I been thinkin' it for a while now. At the speed I'm goin' I would've caught 'em by now."

"Maybe they did go back to Terminus."

"They wouldn't have gone back. Abraham wouldn't've let them. Gettin' Eugene to DC was more important to him than anythin' else."

"Which way would they have gone then?"

Daryl looked forward down the long stretch of road and then turned in his seat and looked back.

"Can't say. Wish I had a studied them maps more, don't know my way 'round these parts. Maybe they went back to the eighty five at the first turn off, or maybe they went north."

I chewed on the side of my lip, a little anxious about being separated from the others again.

"What should we do?"

Daryl blew a long breathe through puckered lips as he thought it over. "I guess we keep goin. We know where they're headin'."

Daryl looked back to me and started examining my face again. I lowered my eyes hoping he couldn't read my thoughts.

"Are you okay?"

I scoffed and shrugged and forced a smile.

"Yeah I'm okay, just need a bathroom break I think."

I swung my leg out and stepped of the bike, and gave my numb backside a few smacks to wake it up.

"Okay I'll come keep watch." Daryl kicked out the stand and went to swing his own leg back over the bike. I put my hand on top of his thigh to still him.

"No, it's okay, I'd prefer if you didn't. Some things a girl has to keep private you know."

Daryl cocked an eyebrow and his lips skewed into a sideways grin.

"You know I saw everythin' those first few days we were out after the prison, don't ya?"

I shrugged. "I know, but you don't have to now. I'll take Mix with me."

At the sound of his name Mix started whimpering and wagging his tail, and trying to lick me over Daryl's shoulder. He was probably ready for a bathroom break himself after sitting on the bike for so long.

Daryl gave Mix a rub on the scruff of his neck, and then Mix jumped off the bike to stand at my side.

"Just don't go too far." Daryl said while eyeing me up and down. He reached into the saddle bag and pulled out his patterned poncho.

"Throw this on. It's colder than a polar bear's tits out 'ere." He bunched it up around the collar and then went to loop it over my head and I flinched involuntarily at his movement. He frowned at me and then proceeded it tug it down and arrange it over my shoulders.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked with one eyebrow cocked.

I nodded my head and pressed my lips together trying to hold back a sob, and hoped it looked something like a smile. Daryl nodded his head slowly with doubt in his eyes and then turned around, and reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt.

While he pulled out a cigarette and tried to light it I dashed off into the tree growth with Mix at my side. Mix was still limping a little after he was hit by Anton. I couldn't tell if he had landed wrong and injured his leg, or if Anton had caused some kind of cranial damage that was making him unsteady on his feet. As soon as we got to Washington I would have to use some of the veterinary skills I had picked up helping daddy, and try to examine him.

I walked until I was out of ear shot of Daryl and then ducked behind a large oak tree. I dropped my bag off my shoulder and leaned against the rough bark and let my body slide down with the bark catching and snapping against the poncho. I wrapped my arms around my knees and then tucked my chin to my chest and started sobbing.

I needed some chest rattling, shoulder heaving, body shaking sobs. In this world we lived in, bad things happen, and you're not supposed to get upset. But I was upset. I felt humiliated and violated and weak. All I had wanted to do since Daryl had dragged Anton off me was curl up into a ball and cry, but I tried to stay strong because I didn't want Daryl to see me this way. The last thing I needed was for him to see the damage that was done. I knew he would blame himself, just like he did for everything else. I couldn't have him blaming himself for what happened. I wasn't strong enough to make him feel better. I couldn't even do that for myself.

Mix was sitting by my side watching me with his one good eye and what looked like a doggy frown on my face. He was the perfect companion. He would just sit with you while you cried and not ask you to explain yourself, not ask for anything in return for his presence. He would just be with you.

"You're a good boy." I said between sobs and scratched him behind his ear.

Mix whimpered in response and then gave my hand a lick. Then his scraggily ear shot in to the air like he could hear something.

I rubbed my eyes and then reached into my boot, prying my fingers between the woollen sock and the leather lining and pulling out my switch blade. I suspected it was walkers, but Mix didn't growl like he normally did. He just stood silent staring into nothingness with his ears pricked and twitching every few seconds. Then, without an obvious reason, he darted off away from me, suddenly free of his limp.

"Mixy?" I called after him.

He didn't even turn towards my call. I grabbed my bag and propelled myself off the oak and stumbled forward over the roots and leaves to chase him. I ran after him for several yards watching carefully where he kicked up the dirt, before deciding to turn back before I got lost. I raced back towards the road and slammed into Daryl's chest as I rounded the oak I had been resting against before.

"Whoa why're you runnin'?" Daryl pushed me behind him with one hand then pulled an arrow from his quiver and raised his bow, ready to shoot whatever he thought I was running from.

"Mix ran off." I choked the words out while catching my breath.

Daryl's eyebrows raised. He was as surprised as I was.

"Not like 'im to run off for no good reason."

"You think maybe he picked up on the scent of the others?"

"Mmm, maybe. Or maybe Timmy's stuck down a well."

I turned back to where Mix had disappeared. "Can we follow Mix on the bike?"

Daryl looked up into the darkening sky, and I followed his eyes. It was past dusk now and it would be dangerous riding in the dark. If we drove head on into a herd of walkers, not even the speed and motion of the bike could save us.

"We can have a look until it gets dark. Then we better make camp ourselves." Daryl started backing towards the bike.

I glanced back over my shoulder to where I last saw Mix and then turned back to follow Daryl.

Daryl rode the bike slowly and carefully through the woodland, trying to avoid thick tree roots, ditches on the earth and low hanging branches. We couldn't follow Mix's path directly as he had cut through bushes several times, but it wasn't hard to find his trail. He had left behind a trademark pattern of tossed leaves and mud. We followed the trail until the trees cleared and we came to the back of a weathered timber home on a small property.

Daryl rode the bike around the side of the property and down a rough gravel driveway until we came to another road. He stopped the bike there and put his feet back to the ground, and started pushing along slowly against the asphalt while examining the road. His head was moving slowly back and forth and a frown was pasted on his face.

"What's wrong?" I called over the sound of the motor.

"Lost the trail."

He looked both ways down the street, and then lifted his hand to point into the distance. I followed the direction of his finger to see that we were at the base of softly sloping hill. Higher up on the hill was a cluster of buildings that looked to be a small town.

"You think Rick and the others are there?" I called.

"Guess we'll find out." He applied the throttle and lifted his boots, and we made our way towards the town.

When the buildings started to clutter together more closely, he stopped the bike again and turned off the engine. He asked me to get off so he could roll it, being wary of the attention he was attracting from the odd walker we had passed. I obeyed and dismounted the bike and followed along beside him while he scanned the buildings. He came to a sideway with a few overgrown bushes obscuring the view and he rolled the bike into a bush to hide it.

He handed me the crossbow and then took his backpack out from the saddlebag and swung it onto his back. Then he grabbed the rifle and the bow and swung them over his shoulder too.

When he was all packed up and ready to go he examined my face again.

"Don't worry. We'll find him." He attempted to reassure me.

I was worried about Mix, but that wasn't the emotion Daryl could see in my eyes. He put his hand to my shoulder and I flinched again at the touch. He frowned a little and then dipped his head so he could look in my eyes.

"Beth, you gotta keep your head, we don't know what's gonna be roamin' these streets."

I nodded and forced a smile.

We went through some of the houses that lined the street scavenging for food or anything else we could use. Daryl collected empty cans and kitchen utensils, things that he could use to make an alarm. At the back of one home, Daryl cut a piece of plastic coated cord from the clothes line and rummaged through a pile of scrap metal out near the shed. I filled our water bottles from the well pump and then splashed some of the cold water on my face and wished for a long hot shower. Then I searched through the overgrown vegetable patch at the back of the garden to see if there was anything that hadn't been eaten by the pests. There were a few cabbages and carrots so I put my crossbow down and started digging them up, shaking of the dirt and forcing them into my bag along with everything else we had found. I examined some of the new shoots that were starting to grow, and I smiled as I thought about how the vegetable garden was still continuing to grow and live on even after it had lost all maintenance and management, and I wondered if it would be the same for human kind too.

I was busy lost in my thoughts about the world that had fallen into anarchy, and I didn't smell the decay or hear the snarling until it was right by my ear. I dove to the ground and rolled into the cabbages as the walker lunged towards me. My bow was too far out of reach, and I had forgotten to load it after Daryl handed it to me so I reached into my boot for my knife, while the walkers gnashing jaws fell towards me.

I was about to swing out at the walkers rotting face when a string of clothesline was looped around the walkers neck and it was yanked back forcefully to the ground. Daryl stepped over it and smashed his boot down into its face until its skull gave way and it was finally still. Then he gave it a few more angry stomps that did little but splatter blood and gore over my face.

I scrambled to my feet and wiped the muck off my face while Daryl glared at me angrily.

"Jeez Greene, I told ya to keep your head." He growled.

I just stared at him blankly, not knowing how to respond. His face softened as he looked over me.

"Jus' be careful okay." He turned away from me and stalked back to his junk pile.

In all the houses we had come across that day we had only found a handful of weak and wandering walkers. We figured they had been there for a long time. By the look of the place it had been evacuated in the early days of the outbreak. There was no sign anyone had been through here recently, not even Rick and the others.

"We best get back to the bike." Daryl said as we made our way back to the main road.

"But we're only a few minutes out of town. That's probably were Mix went, and it might be where the others are."

"Yeah, an' prob'ly more dead too." He looked me over from head to toe. "We'll go in tomorrow after you've rested some."

We made our way back to where we had left the bike earlier and Daryl looked for a house that was somewhat secure, and then we took all of our stuff inside ready to spend the night there. Daryl rigged up the alarm and checked the boards that were nailed to the window and added more nails where necessary. I built a fire in the fire place and went looking for a pot and can opener so I could make some dinner. I checked the stove in the kitchen to find that no gas was connected and I wished we had chosen one of the houses that had a gas tank out back. I ended up taking the pot to the living room to heat it up over the fire. Daryl went into one of the bedrooms and dragged a mattress out and dumped it onto the floor beside the fire, and I found myself cringing at the thought of sharing the mattress with him. It wasn't so much that I didn't want to be near him, because I did, but I was scared he would touch me in an intimate way, and the thought turned my stomach.

Daryl dropped heavily down to the mattress sending dust motes swirling into the air. He sat with his crossed legs hanging off the edge of the mattress and watched me as I picked at the pot of beans. When I couldn't force myself to eat any more I handed him the pot and the fork I had been using and he took them gratefully and started shovelling beans into his mouth without taking a second to breathe.

The sight of it would normally have made me laugh, but I just watched him carefully while he slurped and slopped and rubbed his dirty arm across his sauce covered lips. When he was done he pushed the pot to the side, then stared at me with his interrogatory blue eyes.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time, and I don't want you lyin' to me… Are you okay?"

I stared at him for a moment trying to think of the right answer. Anything but a lie was going to turn him into a self-abusive jackass.

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth." He shifted towards me and I found myself scooting backward across the floor. His eyes narrowed at my movement and then he let out a long sigh. "I know you been cryin' since we left the motel. I don't know why you been tryna hide it from me."

We both sat in silence for a few moments while I pouted and studied the fire dancing in the fire place.

"I'm not okay." I finally admitted.

I glanced back at Daryl to see he was watching me intently with his fingers dancing anxiously from his hands resting against knees.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know." I replied with a shrug.

"Maybe if you…tell me what you're feelin'?"

What I was feeling? As I focused on all the mixed up emotions that were brewing inside, my resolve began to crumble and tears bubble to the surface.

"I feel like shit." I let out a sob and I could feel tears spilling from my eyes and dripping from my nose all at once. I snuffled and then wiped at my face with my sweater. "I feel weak and powerless." I added with another sniff.

I could almost hear the cogs turning over in his brain as he thought of something to say to me. "I know." Was his response.

I scoffed. "You wouldn't know what it's like to have someone overpower you. To have someone make you feel like you're nothin'. You're the strongest person I know."

Daryl was silent for a few moments before muttering. "I do know."

I was about to argue with him before my mind was able to fight through the haze of my own misery and recall the scars all over his body and the deep scars on his back. I had seen them several times over the past few weeks, but he had only discussed them briefly while we were staying at the house in the pecan grove. His daddy had beat him, and beat him bad judging by the marks that were left behind. He said it didn't hurt anymore, but he obviously still remembered the way it hurt back then.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"Yeah you should. It's my fault." He stared into the fire and started clenching and unclenching his hands. "I shoulda killed Anton, I shoulda dealt with Carol, I shoulda…"

"Don't!" I shrieked suddenly. The sound was a shock to me and Daryl jumped at the sudden urgency in my voice.

"Don't what?" He mumbled when he had recovered some.

"Don't start blaming yourself! You go somewhere dark when you blame yourself." I let out a few sobs. "I can't do it! I can't look after you right now!"

Daryl studied me with wide eyes while I sobbed and sniffed and rubbed at my face with my sleeves.

"I don't want you to look after me, Beth." He shuffled towards me and this time I didn't flinch away. "I just wish I coulda looked after you."

"Well you couldn't do anythin'…. It's done… there's no goin' back."

I continued to sob and Daryl continued to watch me, hovering beside me like he was ready to pounce.

"You need to tell me what I can do now, Beth." His voice was gruff and strained.

I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't know what he could do, or if he could do anything. So I just kept sobbing.

He reached his hands towards me and then pulled them back and ran them through his long hair. "Fuck I can't even hold you."

"Why not?" I let out a sniffle while I studied his rough and dirty hands tangled though his hair. He let them slide through and then pressed them down into the mattress.

"'Cause…you know."

I did know. He had barely touched me since he had seen Anton...there. He had held me for the briefest of moments after Carol had been killed, and since then he had only touched me when it was necessary. I was damaged goods to him. More damaged than I had been when Len had tried to… or when Anton had tried the first time. He would never want to be intimate with me again, and it scared me because I didn't think that was such a bad thing.

"You don't want to touch me now?" I mumbled.

Daryl scoffed and then reached out and grabbed me firmly by the upper arms.

"No, that's not it, just every time I've…and last time…you kinda freaked on me."

"That was different." I sobbed and thought back to when Daryl had crawled on top of me and held me down. He had scared me then because it made me feel powerless, and it made me realise how easily Daryl could hurt me if he wanted to. But I knew Daryl never would hurt me. He had taken care of me for weeks, and even before that he had taken care of all of us. I knew I was safe with him, and I knew I could trust him. I probably hadn't been giving him the best signals by drawing away every time he touched me, but it was a reflex I would need to learn to control.

"I need you to hold me Daryl."

He pulled me into his chest with a force that expelled all the air from my lungs and wrapped both of his arms around me tightly, and I sobbed into his shoulder while he rocked me back and forth.

"Maybe I can run you another bath tomorrow." He whispered into my ear when my sobs had started to settle.

My lips curled into a true smile when he said that, thinking of the bath he had run for me back at the pecan grove, after Len had tried to…

"I don't think a bath will help this time." I wish it was as simple as last time. I wish Daryl could just run hot water and soap all over me and it would take the pain away. But no amount of cleaning was going to rid the stains that had been left on me this time.

"I ain't no Dr Phil, and I don't know no pretty words to make you feel better." He stroked along my back and shoulders soothingly. "But if you wanna talk, I'll listen. If you wanna cry, there's a spot 'ere with your name on it." He nodded towards the shoulder I was resting on. "If you want me to hold you, I won't let you go 'til you say so."

"Those are the prettiest words I've ever heard." I mumbled into his shoulder.

He chuckled lightly. "I still ain't no Dr Phil."

I let myself relax into his comforting warmth, inhaling his soothingly familiar smell, feeling the strength in the arms and shoulders and chest that I was hard up against. If Daryl kept holding me like he said he would, I knew I would get better.

"I love you."

I caught my breath after I had said it, wary of what Daryl's reaction would be. I had known the way I felt for a while, but I had never told Daryl directly.

He didn't say anything at first. His body tensed up and he held his breath, and I felt a sense of rejection twist through me.

Daryl leaned away from me and started wriggling his hips up and down while he pushed his hand down into the back pocket of his jeans.

A fold of paper emerged griped between his middle and index finger. He pulled on it until it sprung free and then he held it out for me. I took the piece of crumpled and torn paper and spread it out in my hand to see it was the silly, childish note I had written back at Terminus; The one with all the love hearts and 'Beth Anne Dixon' written on it.

"You kept it?" I covered my face in embarrassment. I had been worried someone else had found that note when it first went missing. I thought it may have been Carol who snuck into our room and found it, and wondered if it had set her off. Knowing that Daryl had been carrying it around, most likely thinking how immature I was, it made me cringe. Was he going to tease me now about saying I love him?

"Turn it over." He spun his finger around in the air.

I turned it over to see writing in a hand that wasn't my own. It read 'I love you too.'

My hand trembled as I read it over and over again. It would have to be either the cutest or most romantic thing he had ever done. Daryl was not the type to come right out and tell you he loved you, but I think him putting it in writing and carrying it around in his back pocket meant more than spoken words ever could.

I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face into his chest and dwelled in the warmth and strength of the man that loved me.

Daryl's body jerking violently beside me and then clamouring to its feet was what startled me awake. I shot up and watched him as he grabbed for the rifle and went for the doorway. I knew now what it was that had brought him to his feet so quickly. I could hear the tin cans from his alarm rattling outside the door. Before passing through the doorway he turned to me and pointed a commanding finger at me.

"You stay there." He demanded protectively.

I reached for the crossbow and put my foot in the stirrup and strained to pull the string back to the latch. I only got it about half way then I had to roll on my back and push my foot in to the air to finish the job.

I heard a familiar bark and excited panting and I quickly rolled to my feet, knowing who was at the door.

With the crossbow in my hand I raced to the front door to see Daryl sitting on the floorboards with Mix jumping all over him and licking his face.

"Mixy!" I cried, dropping the bow, falling to my knee and opening my arms out for him. He bounded straight into my arms, knocking me onto my backside, and started licking my face.

"Where you been boy?" Daryl said as he got back on his feet and then walked towards Mix and I and started scratching Mix behind the ear.

Mix responded by barking, spinning in a circle and then padding back to the front door and poking his nose outside. I looked up to Daryl and noticed for the first time the dark circles under his eyes and his generally haggard appearance and I wondered if he had slept at all last night.

"Think he wants us to follow?" I asked.

Daryl nodded at me and then went back into the living area to grab his bow and the bags.

We followed Mix down the worn timber stairs and out the rusted chain link gate. Then Mix started bounding down the empty street kicking up mud in his wake. He stopped around fifty yards away, turned to us and waited for us to catch up.

"I'm gon' get the bike." Daryl raced to the next house over and ducked down the sideway to where he had hidden the bike. I watched Mix as he paced back and forth impatiently in the road. I heard the bike start up and Daryl slid out around the corner. He stopped beside me and I put the crossbow on my shoulder and climbed on the back.

We followed Mix, riding as slow as we could on the bike, as he raced down the street heading into town. We passed by a line of stores, a gas station a bowling alley and a diner and headed towards a parking lot that fronted onto a three level building that sprawled in both directions down the street. The building backed on to a tree covered hill and looking down from our position I could see the small properties Daryl and I had come across yesterday. The woodland that ran behind the school was joined to the woodland that was behind the properties, and it was obvious that this is where Mix had been heading that whole time.

At the end of the parking lot was a high iron bared and brick pillared fence that surrounded the main building. When we were close enough I could make out the words on the sign that was attached to one of the large brick pillars at the gate to the building. It read 'Green Mount Centre for Applied Technology.' with 'Parans Futura' written below.

"Some kinda fancy science lab?" Daryl asked while looking over the futuristic looking building, built with cantilevers, curved brick and an overabundance of glass.

The windows were covered in faded drawing and paintings, and over to the side of the building I could spot play equipment.

"I think it's some kind of school."

Mix had been waiting at the gate, but as we got closer he dove down into a small pre-dug hole that went under the gate, and he ran up the stairs and disappeared inside the school.

Daryl stopped the bike several yards back from the huge wrought iron posted gate that barred us entry and we both eyed over the half dozen walkers that had been pressing themselves against the sections of iron fence that ran between brick pillars. They had turned as the bike got closer and were now stumbling towards us.

Daryl shut the bike off where it stood. He pulled out his bow and shot five of the walkers down. I shot the last with the crossbow and then I dismounted the bike so Daryl could wheel it towards the gate.

As I followed slowly behind Daryl, I heard the familiar snarls and growls growing louder behind me. I turned to see another five walkers idling towards us who must have followed us through the town. I put the crossbow to the ground to reload it and started tugging at the string while grunting and straining. Daryl saw me struggle with it so he kicked out the stand, dismounted, strode over to me and took the crossbow off me. He finished the job of loading it and fired it into the nearest walker. He reloaded and fired three more times before handing me back the empty crossbow then he unsheathed his knife to finish the last walker with a blow to the ear.

I pouted a little when he turned around to face me, feeling like I had a toy confiscated off me for not using it properly.

"They were getting close." He reasoned.

He went around and collected the arrows, rubbing them down with his red rag, and handed me five to put into my quiver and then went back to the bike that was waiting by the gate.

The gate had a drop rod in the ground, and a thick plastic coated chain wrapped around it, but it wasn't locked, so Daryl unbolted it, unwrapped it and opened the gate so I could enter and Daryl followed with the bike. Once he had set the bike up he went back to the gate and wrapped the chain loosely back around it and slid the drop rod into the ground.

I stood back and examined the fortress type fence that surrounded the school. Each section of fence was about five yards wide, and attached to a thick column of red brick that looked as though it would take a herd of a hundred or more walkers to push over. It also had razor wire wrapped around the lower sections of the fence that was rusted and stained with what I assumed to be blood. The razor wire looked as if it had been a secondary addition for added security, but it was already a very secure fence. I turned back to the building and noted the lower floor windows were covered with iron bars too.

"Why does a school need so much security?" I asked no one in particular.

Daryl looked up at the gate and then to the school taking in the bars on the windows.

"There's alotta valuable shit in a school. Especially one like this. Computers, television sets, cameras. And there's a heap of shit in the science rooms you can sell or use to cook with."

"Cook what?" I didn't think he was talking about cupcakes.

"Meth, Coke, pills choose your poison."

I frowned as I realised just what kind of poison they were.

"How do you know all this?"

Daryl stepped away from the gate and looked at me with a guilty expression on his face.

"I weren't no saint. An' you know it."

I pulled my eyes away from his serious glare and tried not to think too much on what he was trying to tell me.

I looked toward the overgrown courtyard and the large concrete steps that led up to big glass paned doors. The panes were knocked out of the bottom panels and were now covered by timber boards, but one hung loosely and I could see Mix sitting on the linoleum floor behind it. As I approached, Mix dashed down the corridor and out of sight.

"You think the others are inside?" I asked turning to Daryl. They may have seen how secure it was and thought to spend the night here.

Daryl frowned and looked around at the courtyard and at the car park outside the gate.

"I ain't seen the minivans, but maybe they hid 'em."

Daryl jogged up the steps, put his arm through the opening in the door, reached upwards and unlocked the door. Then he pushed it open and held it so I could pass through.

The dust motes danced and twirled though the entry foyer to the school, illuminated by the upper two levels of glass windows. The lower level had been boarded up with panels of wood nailed together to create one continuous barrier. There were chairs and tables pushed up against doors and the floor was covered in books, files and worn and faded paper. The air smelt a little of mildew but was relatively pleasant and without a hint of walker decay.

We walked down the entry foyer and under a flight of stairs until we came to a T junction. Along the wall was a huge cabinet full of trophies and plaques and photographs of older men and women. Running down the length of the hall were more photographs of groups of people standing in regimental lines who varied in age from kindergarteners to those who looked more my own age. They all smiled out towards me, frozen in a permanent state of happiness and oblivious to what their future held.

Mix came darting out from one of the smaller corridors and barked and then turned back around beckoning for us to follow. Daryl nocked an arrow on his bow string with ease and I strained to load the crossbow while he mockingly flexed his bicep and nodded towards it.

I followed Daryl as he cautiously made his way down the corridor stopping at every classroom we passed and peering inside the glass pane in the door. They were all empty save for chairs and tables and cabinets lined with books. At the end of the corridor were big double doors with 'Gymnasium' painted overhead, and 'God forgive us' painted in spray paint on the doors. Mix had his nose to the floor and was pawing at the bottom of the door with his tail wagging though the air.

We stepped forward cautiously, and I wondered if Mix was leading us towards friend or foe.

"Do you think they committed suicide in there?" I asked glancing over to Daryl.

"I don't think he would lead us to a bunch of dead people, but…" Daryl pointed to the door handles that had two brooms crossed through them like an ancient coat of arms. "Someone tried to keep something in there…or something out."

Walking up to the doors I could hear a low and light sound that was merging in with Mix's soft whimpers.

"Doggy, doggy." Came a tiny, angelic voice.

I looked to the clearance space between the door and the floor and saw that Mix was licking at the the tiny, pale fingers of a child's hand.

AN: Sorry no smut for a few chapters. Beth has her reasons. But Daryl has told her he loves her in his own awkward way, so hopefully that'll keep the feels going for a little bit.

Sorry for waiting so long to update, had family stuff to do. :)