Disclaimer: A nod to the genius Robert Kirkman for creating this wonderfully dark, post-apocalyptic world. I do not own or have rights to any of the characters/plot of this series. I'm simply a fan indulging in my post-apocalyptic fantasies.
Thank you Nicole137137 for editing this beast of a chapter and letting me bounce ideas off of you! You're tha' best!
...
The sun was beginning to rise and Beth was utterly exhausted. They had taken a breath behind the barn, making sure no one had noticed them, before taking off across the pasture and back down the road from the direction they had come. After turning down several more roads, they finally came to a highway. They were now standing in front of a road sign with towns Beth had heard of, but never been to. Daryl, however, seemed to be familiar with their surroundings.
"You know where we're at?" Beth huffed, looking in all directions but not getting a sense from any of them.
"Yeah. Back that way," Daryl threw his thumb over his shoulder, "is Lizella. Up ahead should be Macon."
"So Terminus is close to Macon?" Beth tried to follow Daryl's thought process.
"I'm thinkin' so. The other side'ah Macon at least. Means we gotta' cut through to get back. We could keep goin' north, make a complete circle, but I think we'd have a better chance findin' a place to look for supplies if we cut across," Daryl suggested.
"I think you're right. Means we're gonna' be cuttin' through a once populated city. What if it's like what y'all said about Atlanta?" Beth voiced her concern.
"I don't think they'll be too many left. Most of 'em have moved into herds and started roamin'. No food left here," Daryl replied matter-of-factly.
Beth stared at Daryl for a long moment, never breaking eye contact, and wondered when they had begun referring to these once-human-beings as animals; predators moving on in search of prey. She was well aware that the walkers were no longer people; that they hadn't a shred of humanity left in their decaying vessels, but she wasn't sure when she had become so desensitized to viewing them as such.
Daryl broke eye contact first, reaching up to smooth down his facial hair, but Beth continued to stare long after he turned his back to her while trying to get a sense for which direction they should go.
"What d'ya think?" He spoke without looking at her, "We go through or we go around?"
Beth's eyes zeroed in on the winged patch that was stitched to the back of his leather vest. She knew she'd been staring at him, making him uncomfortable with her wordless gazes, but after her nightmare she found herself subconsciously checking him of any indication that he may be wounded. She knew she was being ridiculous, but her dream had been so vivid. She could smell the gunpowder, taste the coppery sensation of blood, and hear Daryl's body hitting the floor…lifeless.
"Beth?" Daryl's voice sounded closer.
Blinking her eyes several times, she realized she was no longer staring at a set of wings, but the front of a button down, flannel shirt.
Beth looked into his crystal blue eyes, "People will have avoided the bigger cities. All of the smaller business' we come across are gonna' be picked clean and Judith needs things. Everything we had for her was left at the prison. We need food, bedding, and whatever other supplies we can find for everyone else too. The stockpile in Terminus will only last so long with how many people we have there now. I don't really think we have much of 'ah choice. "
Daryl's eyes left hers to stare at the ground. He seemed to be weighing her words as he scuffed the asphalt with his boot. She silently waited for the answer she already knew he would give.
"Through it is then," Daryl finally announced.
Beth took a steadying breath and nodded her head.
"Well keep on this road. It'll merge a few times, but we should hit the interstate up ahead. Take us right into tha' Macon area," Daryl informed her as he began walking down the road in the direction of Macon.
Beth moved into step beside him, "You really think they've moved on?"
"Won't really know 'til we get there," he replied brusquely before ending in a softer tone, "I'll keep ya' safe."
Beth tightened her lips and clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep her face neutral. Daryl had said he'd protect her, keep her safe, dozens of times, but something about the way he said it this time felt different. She also realized it could have nothing to do with Daryl and be the way she received his statement.
"I'll look out for you too," she said when she was able to trust her voice.
Daryl glanced over at her, but said nothing.
The only sound Beth could hear was their footsteps against asphalt as they walked in silence.
…
Beth felt like a walker. She was utterly exhausted and running on fumes. Daryl didn't look like he was fairing much better, but he hadn't made any mention of stopping to rest. She had at least managed to grab an hour or so of shut-eye, but Daryl hadn't slept since before their fiasco at the farm house.
"Daryl?" Beth spoke for the first time since their exchange earlier.
"Yeah?" Daryl's voice sounded rough from disuse.
"When was the last time you slept?" Beth questioned him.
"'M fine," Daryl replied all too quickly.
Beth stopped walking, looking for an abandoned vehicle on the desolate interstate that she deemed safe enough to hide in for a few hours. Daryl continued a few paces ahead of her before turning around to face her.
"What's wrong?" Daryl asked, scanning the area around them.
"I told you I would look out for you. You haven't slept in almost forty-eight hours," Beth replied; approaching a black suburban that's windows were still intact.
"I said I's fine," Daryl grumbled.
"You don't look fine. You look tired," Beth quipped as she walked around the vehicle and peered into the windows for any signs of a walker being inside.
Daryl must have known that she wasn't taking no for an answer from the way he followed behind her, knives poised, and ready to take out any walkers they came across. When she opened the door and the only thing that stirred was the dust inside, she climbed into the middle seat. After checking the back seat and trunk area just for good measure, she placed her crossbow in the floorboard and settled into the grimy, gray fabric of the seats.
Looking over at Daryl who was still outside of the suburban, hands on his hips, and facial expression showing every bit of annoyance and fatigue he felt, Beth gently patted the seat next to her and smiled.
"You're exhausted. Just do me a favor an' get a few hours of sleep. We'll be no good if we get too tired and start gettin' sloppy. What was that phrase you always used t'tell me, 'Dumb gets ya' dead?'" Beth performed her best Daryl Dixon impression, "Seriously. Just a few hours. The sun's barely up. It'll still be daylight in a few hours."
"Why don't cha' jus' worry about yer'self. I said I'm fine," Daryl grouched as his eyes scanned the area around them.
"Daryl," Beth sighed.
They were at a stalemate. Neither one of them was moving and Beth knew she was being stubborn, but it was for a good reason. The fact that Daryl wasn't putting more effort into being a jerk to her for 'trying to tell him what to do' was proof enough of how tired he actually was.
After what felt like an eternity, but in actuality was only a few minutes, Daryl handed her his crossbow and climbed into the suburban, shutting the door behind him. Leaning through the two front seats, Beth was pleasantly surprised by the 'clicking' sound she heard after pressing the lock button. If this was a smaller, more maneuverable vehicle, she would suggest driving it to Terminus. However, bigger was not always better and in a world where a person needed to be able to run at the drop of a hat, they need something that could make sharp turns and get out of cramped places fairly easy.
Sitting back down next to Daryl, she glanced at him only to find his head already back against the headrest with his eyes closed.
"Such a stubborn man," Beth breathed.
"I ain't stubborn," Daryl murmured, "jus' don't like people tellin' me what t'do."
Beth gave Daryl a flat stare.
"Quit lookin' at me like that," Daryl added after a few seconds; his eyes never opening.
Beth smiled, "I'm not tryin' t'tell you what to do. I'm tryin' to keep you alive. I told you I'd look out for you."
Leaning her head on Daryl's shoulder, Beth focused her eyes on the road in front of them. There were hundreds, if not thousands of empty cars lining the road. There were even cars on the shoulders and she could only imagine the chaos that occurred when people began turning and there was nowhere to run.
Beth felt a pressure on the top of her head and a warm sensation ghost across her skin every few seconds. Wrapping her arms Daryl's arm, getting as comfortable as she could for the hours ahead, she breathed in pine, sweat, and oil. She couldn't imagine her hair smelled any better, but Daryl didn't seem to care as he rested his head against hers.
It was as she sat there, watching for any signs of danger while Daryl's even breathing indicated his slumber, that she considered just how much her life had changed. Glancing down at her wrist, realizing she had never gotten her bracelets back from Judith, her scar was a bright pink against her pale skin. She would always regret her feeble attempt to end her life, not for the simple fact that she had been selfish, cowardly, but also because of the people it would have affected. It would have immediately affected her father, Maggie, and Jimmy, but it would have also altered Judith's future. How would it have had an influence on Daryl's life? They had meant nothing to each other back then, but now…now things were different. If she had succeeded in the attempt, where would Daryl be now? Who would be sitting in this car with him? She had to all but drag him around for the first few days after the prison fell, would he have even made it back to Rick and everyone else?
Tightening her hold around Daryl's upper arm, she ended her thoughts on 'what if' scenarios and concentrated on keeping her eyes open long enough for Daryl to get some rest. She was still alive and Daryl trusted her to look after him while he slept. That was all that mattered at the moment. Everything else she could figure out when they were securely behind the suffocating fences and walls that made Terminus.
…
Beth had caught herself nodding off twice before Daryl finally awoke from his nap. Beth wasn't sure if he was stiff and rigid from falling asleep the way he had or if he had been uncomfortable with how close he had gotten to her in his sleep. From the lack of eye contact and how many times he cleared his throat, Beth was pretty sure it was the latter.
Daryl looked more refreshed as they made their way into the city. Beth had never been more grateful for her stubborn streak because with each step they took, Daryl's theory was proven to be vastly inaccurate once they got into Macon. They had managed to sneak past several clusters, but the further in they travelled, the more walkers they saw.
Most of the surrounding buildings were unrecognizable. The displays, once sporting glass in the front windows, were now shattered and ransacked. Abandoned vehicles and backstreets provided cover, but Beth knew they needed to get out of the city. They had yet to come across a store that would have bolts for their crossbows and they had no guns. Their only defense was the knives strapped to their belts.
Daryl motioned for her to get down and Beth dropped to the ground behind the truck they were currently using to hide themselves from the walkers. The two or three roamers weren't anything they couldn't handle. It was when those two or three got excited and started making a ruckus that attracted ten, twenty, or even an entire herd that they had to avoid at all costs.
Beth moved around to the side of the truck and pressed her back against the rear tire. Daryl was crouched near the front of the truck, watching the threat that Beth couldn't see. Taking a deep breath, she moved next to Daryl, staying low, and waited for him to give her a sign that they could keep moving.
It was hard to differentiate where the groans were coming from. For a city full of the dead, Macon sounded more alive than any place she'd been since the fall of the prison. Turning away from Daryl, she tried to keep herself from yelling to Daryl as a walker rounded the end of the truck where she had just been standing. Thinking on her feet, Beth swept her foot against the walker's ankles, effectively causing the abomination to crumble to the ground in a sickening 'crack.' She then lunged and drove her knife through its skull, imbedding the hilt into the walker's forehead.
She would suggest they cover themselves in blood, like Glenn had told her he and Rick had done back in Atlanta, but there wasn't enough of the walker left to use as camouflage. It was literally deteriorated so much that Beth couldn't tell if it had once been a man or a woman. The only prominent features on its face were the straight white teeth that were exposed from the lack of flesh to cover them.
"Daryl," Beth hissed, "we have to get out of here."
Daryl turned to her, his expression dark as he glanced between her and the walker, and motioned for her to follow him with a flick of his wrist.
Beth promptly followed Daryl down a back alley. She stood flush against his back, ignoring how his crossbow dug into her skin, as she waited for Daryl to start moving again. Glancing over her shoulder for the umpteenth time, Beth kept a vigilant eye to make sure nothing snuck up behind them.
Startled by a pressure around her fingers, Beth snapped her eyes down to see that Daryl had reached back and grabbed her hand. Her eyes then followed his arm up to his shoulder until she was staring into his blue eyes.
"Let's go," he whispered while pulling her behind him.
Beth held onto his hand as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the ground. They weaved between buildings and behind cars until they came to a strip mall. To their right looked like an overpass from another interstate and to their left were rows of buildings that had once been assorted stores ranging from furniture to clothing and accessories. There weren't many walkers in this area and Beth began to wonder if they were all beginning to migrate out of town.
"Daryl, look," Beth pointed to a sporting goods store that was across the parking lot at the end of the row of buildings, "think there's any bolts left?"
"Not too many people usin' a crossbow. Windows are all busted, but we might find somethin'," Daryl stated, releasing her hand, "I'll check it out. You wait right here."
Beth watched Daryl cross the parking lot and disappear within the sea of deserted vehicles. She felt her heart sinking further with each minute that passed with no sign of Daryl. Adjusting her crossbow higher on her back, Beth searched the area in front of her. The sun was high over her head and she guessed it to be sometime around noon.
She could feel the sweat dripping down her brow, could hear the groans of the undead and their shuffling on unsteady feel, but she couldn't see Daryl anywhere. Just as she was about to get up to go after him, she felt a presence behind her.
"Geez," she sighed, "about ti-"
She abruptly stopped when a gurgling moan emanated behind her. She was suddenly thrown forward onto her stomach as a weight settled onto her back. Snapping and snarling sounded next to her ear. She scrambled to get her arms underneath her so she could push herself up, but the weight against her proved to be more than she could push off.
The walker's teeth clamped down on the limb of her crossbow, the weapon acting as a shield to protect her from the walker's deadly jaws. Beth began to panic as the walker grabbed at her clothed arms. She knew it would only be a matter of time before more were attracted by the sound, but even with her knife in hand, she couldn't risk reaching back to blindly stab and chance getting bit.
Calming herself, she decided to try a different tactic. Knowing she wasn't strong enough to push herself straight up, with how the walker was on right side more than her left, she decided to try pushing off at an angle and get away from it. Maneuvering her arms to be able to push off at the angle she needed, Beth thrust her left shoulder backwards as hard as she could, her right digging painfully into the ground as the walker slide off her shoulder.
Scrambling away, Beth adjusted the grip of her knife in hand and thrust it through the eye socket of the hefty walker. This walker was different from the rest. It was a more recent turn as it still had all of its distinguishing features and fatty tissue. Even the blood, as it pooled around the blade of her knife, held a slightly red tint. Beth felt an ounce of remorse for the poor soul who had been so viciously attacked, if the bite marks and torn tissue were any indication of how he succumbed to the virus. Pulling her knife from the oozing wound, Beth wiped the blood on her jeans and returned to where she had been just moments before, waiting for Daryl.
She heard a noise to her right and instantly turned, ready to attack, when she recognized the familiar face.
"Don't sneak up on me like that," Beth breathed.
"What happened here?" Daryl looked between her and the walker.
"It snuck up behind me. I took care of it," Beth tried not to sound too shaken up.
"You alright?" Daryl checked her over, his eyes zeroing in on the fresh blood on her jeans.
Daryl was beside her in an instant, his hands gripping her thigh, searching for a wound.
"It's not my blood," Beth placed her hands on Daryl's to stop his frantic examination.
He looked up at her with furrowed brows.
"It's not my blood Daryl," she repeated quietly.
Relief visibly flooded his features as he dropped his head, his hands still clutching her leg. After several moments, his grip loosened and he removed his hands, never making eye contact with her. Beth watched him run a hand down his face and felt an urge to reach out to him; to comfort him. She knew Daryl would feel uncomfortable by such a gesture, or at least she thought he would, but she wasn't so sure now. They had kissed twice, both for reasons Beth could easily categorize as being in the moment, but this urge was new to her. She'd never felt the need to touch Daryl like she was feeling in this moment.
Shaking her head, she cleared her throat, "Think it's worth checkin' out?"
"Place looked pretty trashed," Daryl replied roughly, "We might find somethin' though. I'm thinkin' most people went for bullets."
"Then let's go look. I'll feel much better when I can use my crossbow again," Beth admitted with a smile.
"You an' me both," Daryl agreed.
Following behind Daryl as he took the same path he had earlier, she realized what had taken him so long; there were corpses littering the ground with black blood pooling around fresh kill wounds. For some unknown reason, Beth found herself irritated with him. Daryl had proven time and time again that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but that didn't mean he had to go on a walker-killing-spree without her there to back him up.
When she replayed her last thought in her head, Beth decided she wasn't upset that she wasn't there to back him up, but more so that he had deliberately put himself in harm's way when they could have taken the walker's out together.
"I could've helped you," Beth said in a hushed tone as they approached the front of the sporting goods store.
"Whadn't no trouble. I don't need help takin' out a few walkers," Daryl said as they stepped through the broken display glass and held his hand out to Beth expectantly.
"Still," Beth argued, pulling her flashlight out of her pack and handing it to Daryl, "I could've helped you."
"No reason to get both of us out in tha' open when I could take 'em out by myself," Daryl replied, accepting the flashlight and began toward the archery section.
Beth thought for a moment, translating what Daryl had said into what Daryl had meant, and she recognized that Daryl wasn't saying that he didn't need her help or that he didn't want her help, but that he didn't want to risk something happening to her.
Trying to feign her prior annoyance, which had abruptly dissipated after understanding what Daryl was telling her, Beth grumbled, "Next time you tell me to stay, I'm going to follow you anyway."
While most of the shelves within the store were barren, the archery section still had numerous items 'in stock.' Beth grabbed several replacement cables, lubricating oils, and other accessories; stuffing them into her backpack. Daryl had six bolts already filling his attached quiver and six more in hand.
"Lemme' see your crossbow," Daryl reached his hand out to remove her weapon from over her shoulder.
Beth shrugged her crossbow off her shoulder while Daryl fitted it with bolts. The added weight as she reclaimed her weapon was a huge relief. Daryl grabbed several more bolts and stuffed them into her backpack, leaving the fletching to stick out of the top of her bag.
"Let's get outta' here 'fore more walkers show up," Daryl spoke quietly.
"Lead the way," Beth said with a smile.
Never in a million years did she think she would be happier about finding bolts for her crossbow more than she had ever been about a Christmas or birthday. Life in the apocalypse had definitely changed her perspective on wants and needs.
"Bolts are definitely much better than a frozen yogurt or a pet pony," Beth spoke lightly as she followed behind Daryl.
"What in tha' hell are you talkin' 'bout?" Daryl threw over his shoulder as he navigated them through the dark store.
"Nothin'," Beth shook her head even though she knew Daryl couldn't see her.
Beth decided that as soon as they got back to Terminus, she would be searching for alcohol. After the disastrous trip they'd had, she felt like they deserved another round of 'I've Never.' Hopefully this time Daryl wouldn't get angry with her and her have to suggest burning down a building to make amends.
When they were back in the parking lot, Beth felt herself wanting nothing more than to run back to the suburban they had come across earlier that morning, curl into a ball, and go to sleep. If Daryl called her a hypocrite now, she would have no argument against his claims. She had gone forty-eight hours with only an hour or two of sleep and her body was beginning to feel the effects.
"Looks like there's a grocery store down that ah'way," Daryl pointed to the other end of the strip mall, "Glass looks t'be intact."
"That's a Super Target," Beth clarified, "they should have pretty much everything."
"Looks like we found a place for our next run," Daryl pulled out a map from his back pocket. Bending down, he picked up a rock, and scratched a marker on the map.
"Think we should at least check it out?" Beth inquired.
Daryl looked her up and down, "I think you need sleep. We told Rick we'd scout out places for a supply run. We'll come back after we're rested up. Ain't no tellin' how many walkers are inside there."
Daryl had a good point. They had lucked out with the sporting goods store being devoid of walkers, but this store still had solid, glass doors. Unless a rear exit door was opened, anything inside the Super Target had been trapped in there for an uncertain amount of time. With their goal of locating a place to scout for supplies accomplished, Beth knew that their next priority was making it home in one piece.
"Think any of these vehicles work?" Beth asked, looking around the parking lot.
"I saw somethin' earlier that I wanna' check out," Daryl declared as he folded up the map and replaced it in his pants pocket.
"What is it?" Beth asked as they slunk across the hot asphalt.
Beth could feel the heat rising from the blacktop and had to use all the willpower she could muster to stay low to the ground. Daryl led her back to the middle of the parking lot where a motorcycle was parked.
"A motorcycle," Beth stated the obvious.
"A motorcycle. This is a Triumph Scrambler. This has got an 865 cc DOHC four-stroke twin engine, five-speed transmission, and she'll top out at about ah'hundred and five miles per hour," Daryl recited as he fiddled with the tubes and wires leading into the engine.
Beth couldn't help but laugh.
"What?" Daryl asked defensively, furrowing his brows as he stood and unscrewed the gas cap.
"I have absolutely no idea what any of that means. I do know that one hundred miles per hour is fast. The rest of it is lost t'me," Beth answered him with a genuine smile.
Daryl huffed and replaced the cap covering the gas tank, "Means we got us a ride back to Terminus," he replied before turning over the key to the ignition and bringing to motorcycle roaring to life.
There was an immediate change in the atmosphere. Beth could feel the walker's zeroing in on them. Daryl took off his crossbow and stepped over the bike to sit on the seat, placing his weapon in his lap. He looked to Beth and she found herself hesitant to get on the Scrambler.
"You gonna' get on? Or are we waitin' for the walkers to swarm us?" Daryl's voice was laced with sarcasm.
"Daddy said to never get on a motorcycle with a man," Beth teased, having to raise her voice to speak over the deafening engine.
Daryl scoffed and patted the seat behind him. Swinging her leg over the black vehicle, Beth sat on the seat behind Daryl. She wasn't sure where to put her arms and decided to gently rest her hands against his sides.
"You're gonna' fall off like that," Daryl yelled over his shoulder as he reached down and grabbed her wrists, wrapping her arms so tightly around his torso that her cheek pressed against his back.
Beth was about to comment when Daryl twisted his wrists and the motorcycle hurdled from where it had been parked. Her arms involuntarily tightened around him as she held on. She had never been on a motorcycle before and the feeling of the wind against her face was foreign, but welcome.
"We're gonna' drive back the way we came, then circle back toward Terminus. Get tha' walkers movin' away from here," Daryl informed her as he opened the throttle.
Beth nodded against his back. She was glad he was still able to think rationally as all she could think about was how grateful she was to be off her feet.
She was impressed but how seamlessly Daryl weaved through traffic, but it wasn't until they were on the outskirts of town, finally making their way toward the first railroad intersection they found, that Beth could truly appreciate the feeling of freedom one felt from riding a motorcycle.
With Daryl no longer having to maneuver the motorcycle at a slower pace, the steady thrum of the engine and the cool air rushing through her hair and across her skin was bliss. She would have yelled to Daryl how amazing it felt if she had had the energy and would have been willing to ruin the moment. Instead she chose to rest her head against Daryl's broad back and watch the scenery as they passed it by.
As she lay there, she noticed the front of a silver car sitting at a stop sign. As they flew past the 'T' intersection, Beth's eyes made contact with a man in the driver's seat. She felt her heart drop through her feet and shatter on the road beneath them. She recognized those eyes. They had haunted her dreams for an entire winter before she reunited with Daryl.
"Daryl!" She screamed.
Daryl immediately slowed down, "What is it?"
"Don't slow down!" Beth yelled while she looked over her shoulder.
Behind them, the car turned the opposite way and Beth got a clear view of the white cross, so reminiscent to the one on the black car that had abducted her, painted on the back windshield. She felt Daryl twist in the seat, apparently looking for what had so raptly gained her attention. When he twisted back, Beth felt the motorcycle lurch from the amount of force he had slammed on the throttle.
…
When they parked the bike at the gates it was mid-afternoon. Beth's muscles ached from exhaustion and her body begged for sleep, but the adrenaline rush she had felt from seeing the car still coursed through her veins.
Opening the gates and walking inside, Beth was surprised at the relief she felt. When they had left, the feeling of being out in the wilderness had been exhilarating, but having gone through the past two days in the manner they had, being safely behind brick walls and barbed wire fences put her at ease.
The lookouts on the roof must have passed the word of their return because as soon as Beth rounded the corner to the common area, she saw Maggie along with Glenn and Tara and three bags on the ground.
Maggie rushed to her, wrapping her arms around her so tightly that Beth felt her back 'pop' in several places.
"I'm so glad you're back. Everythin' go alright?" Maggie asked when she pulled back from the suffocating embrace.
"We got into a few tight spots, but we're okay," Beth replied as honestly as she could, "What's with tha' bags?"
"We're hopin' you guys came back with a place to look for supplies," Maggie answered.
"But we just got back?" Beth looked from Maggie to Glenn who was taking the map Daryl had marked on earlier.
"Judith needs food. We don't have enough bedding. We can't afford to wait around and someone else find wherever you guys went," Maggie took the authoritative tone she always used when she would try to scold Beth.
Beth wanted to argue, but having been on her own and knowing the desperation of needing supplies, she understood. She had been shielded from so much at the prison and even with Daryl. Being on her own had opened her eyes to beyond surviving walkers, but to surviving the elements and people as well.
"We'll walk you guys to the gate," Beth said softly.
She exchanged a look with Daryl, but neither one of them spoke while they waited for Glenn, Maggie, and Tara to gather their things. The silence continued until they reached the gate and Beth gave her sister another bone crushing hug.
"Be safe. Watch each other's back. If it gets messy, get out of there," Beth whispered to Maggie.
"This ain't our first trip Bethy," Maggie pulled back and said with a smile, "We'll be back before you know it!"
Beth held her sister's hand tightly, understanding how Maggie must have felt as she left with Daryl just days before.
"I'll look after them," Glenn said, reaching around to give Beth a hug.
"I know you will. You be careful too," Beth let go of Maggie to returns Glenn's embrace.
Stepping back, she gave Glenn a smile. He then moved to speak with Daryl and she turned her attention to Tara.
"Watch yourself out there," Beth approached the older girl to give her a hug.
"Thanks," Tara's awkward embrace made Beth smile.
"You're part of our group now. We look after each other and we'll be waiting for you to get back," Beth tried to reassure her.
Tara's reply was a quick smile and a nod.
Daryl was off to the side talking quietly with Glenn as she came to stand beside him. Reaching down, she laced her fingers between his, and tried to shake the ominous feeling she had as she watched her sister leave.
"I warned Glenn about the car you saw," Daryl informed her.
Beth bit at the inside of her cheek, trying to keep all her worries behind her lips. Knowing she needed to say something, she settled on one question that would answer them all.
"You think they'll be alright?" Beth's voice sounded weak to her own ears.
Daryl gently squeezed her hand, "Maggie's tough as nails. Glenn's smart. Tara seems t' be able to handle ah' gun."
"I see what you did there," Beth looked up at him and sighed at how he avoided answering her question.
She knew Daryl was trying to comfort her in his own way, reassuring her of everything they knew to be true, but he wasn't going to promise her things he couldn't guarantee. Daryl was an honest man and she respected him for it.
"Come'on. Rick's gonna' want details on our trip and then we have some sleep t'catch up on," Daryl said with a smirk, tugging her beside him as he turned away from the front gates.
Beth allowed him to pull her away, but cast one last glance over her shoulder to watch her sister and brother-in-law's retreating forms. She trusted Glenn and she knew Maggie could take care of herself. While she didn't know Tara that well, she had never felt any ill will from the girl.
Maggie would be back in a day or two. If they took too long, she knew she would have no trouble in talking Daryl into going out with her to find them. Right now, they had more important issues to worry about. Beth was absolutely sure she recognized the man in the car they had passed and she wasn't sure how Daryl would handle that information when he found out. The man had most definitely seen which direction they were heading and it wouldn't take much to figure out they were all at Terminus.
With Terminus being labelled as a sanctuary on signs for miles around, there were bound to be more people looking for refuge. They would have to be very careful about who they let in from now on. Beth would never forget that man's face, but she couldn't say whether he was working with others or not.
Saying a quick prayer to her father, Beth turned back to face the front. They would just have to handle obstacles as they arose. She would have to have faith that everything would be alright.
Please Daddy…keep everyone safe.
...
A/N: If you would like to know how Glenn, Maggie, and Tara's trip go, read The Weak Can Never Forgive. I will be incorporating what happens in the one-shot in the next chapter, but it's not absolutely necessary to read to know what's going on in chapter 16. Consider it more of a side story! It is a one shot that I wrote for NoSecretsHere character-death competition. I was given Tara, a character that I have never written much and had to have her killed by a member of the group. I felt like writing something 'out of the box' and I loved the end result of my one-shot so much I knew I had to incorporate it into my story somehow. If people like the idea, I'll consider writing more 'behind the scenes' stories of what goes one outside of Daryl and Beth in my For the Ones Universe! Check it out and let me know what you think!
ALSO! I did A LOT of research for this chapter (and the one-shot I referred to above) in regards to actual locations in Macon that could overlap with my story. While TWD doesn't ever actually say WHERE in Georgia they are, if you take the map of Terminus and overlay it with the map of Georgia, Terminus looks like it's in the Macon area. So I took that and mapped out where stores were in retrospect to where Daryl and Beth were travelling and came up with this chapter! Yes…there is an actual Dick's Sporting Goods and Target located in the same area off of Presidential Parkway…at least according to Google.
Yes, the Triumph Scrambler is a tribute to Norman's actual motorcycle that he cruises around Georgia. I am not motorcycle savvy, but I wanted to give Daryl his moment to express his love for bikes.