Ch.8

He wasn't sure how to approach the situation. If he got up and walked over to the man, the man would most likely yell and alert the others. If the others came running to the man's aid, Daryl and Beth would have no chance. They would easily be outnumbered. His hand was still resting on his knife, and he quietly pulled it from its sheath and pulled his hands to his back. He nudged the crossbow sitting next to him, making it fall over with a thud.

"Hey, you gonna' get over here and pick that up?" The man just looked at him like he was stupid. "If you're going to want to keep it you don't want it to be broke."

The man got up reluctantly, mumbling something under his breath. Daryl was thankful when the man was stupid enough to leave his knife where he had been sitting. As the man reached down to pick up the crossbow, Daryl brought his arms from behind his back, the knife stabbing deep into the man's neck. He felt as the man's body went limp and he pulled the knife out. The man didn't even make a noise.

He turned to Beth, who didn't even peer over to see what had just occurred. Her eyes were blank, staring at nothing in particular. His hand lightly grasped her arm, and he felt as every muscle in her body tensed and her eyes filled with fear.

"Beth, it's just me, it's Daryl. I'm going to get you out of here." He turned her slightly so that he could reach her bound hands. He cut the rope with one swipe.

He heard someone approaching and saw a man heading their way. He couldn't tell if it was the leader or not. He grabbed his crossbow, loading an arrow in it, waiting for the man to get closer.

"Hey sweet cheeks, it's my turn with you," the man slurred, his shadowy figure becoming clearer.

To Daryl it sounded like he was drunk, which would make this even easier; the man would never see it coming. When the light of the fire brought the man's image into focus Daryl released the arrow, piercing the man straight in the heart. Normally he would be killing these men with a puncture to skull, destroying the brain so they wouldn't turn. But these men didn't deserve that courtesy, and when they turned they would have a camp full of men to feast on.

The sound of the man hitting the ground dead must have alerted the others to something happening, because in the distance he saw one of the men stand up and start walking over to the where Daryl and Beth were. Daryl ran over to Beth.

"Beth, come on, we gotta' go. Now!"

Beth didn't do anything; she stayed firmly in place, the words going through one ear and out the other. Without thinking Daryl grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. He regretted his harsh way of handling the situation, suddenly remembering what had just happened to her, but if she wasn't going to be a willing participant in their escape, Daryl would drag her out of here.

They started running, Daryl still pulling Beth, making sure she was always at his side. He snuck a look back and saw the group of men running towards them. They were stumbling. Daryl was right, that man had been drunk, and the rest of them were too. This would make getting away from them easier. He felt nauseous when he realized they were probably celebrating the events of the day.

The men abruptly stopped, knowing they were in no condition to be chasing people through a forest full of walkers. But that didn't stop the leader of the group from yelling one last threat in their direction, a promise Daryl hoped he wouldn't keep.

"Go ahead, run. I'll find you. And when I do, Beth is going to wish she were dead; I promise you that."

Daryl continued running, pushing the man's words to the back of his mind. He had worse things to worry about right now. It was pitch black out and they had no flashlight, no food, no water, and no shelter. He could feel Beth starting to slow her pace next to him; she was in no condition to be running, she was hurting both emotionally and physically. He needed to find them someplace to stay the night, but that was a lot easier said than done when in the middle of the woods.

Daryl found himself doing something he hadn't done in years, not since he was a child, he was praying. It was a silent prayer that only he could hear, and he was almost certain that if God was real he wasn't listening. He was beginning to give up hope on finding someplace to sleep when he started to make out something up ahead. As they got closer he noticed that it was a cabin, probably a hunter's cabin.

It wasn't as far away from the group of men as he would have liked, but he knew that Beth couldn't go any further, and he felt confident that if they started moving again tomorrow the drunken men wouldn't be able to catch up to them. He put his hand up to stop Beth from getting any closer; he wanted to make sure the place wasn't infested with walkers. He opened the door and peered into the darkness. He was quiet, listening for any of the telltale sounds of a walker, but he didn't hear any. He did a quick sweep of the place and then went and got Beth.

When they got inside Daryl did another quick glance of the place. It was small, but it would do. It had a little kitchen, a bathroom, a fireplace, and one twin size bed. He would let Beth have the bed; she needed it more than he did. He walked over to the fireplace and saw that the wood was already there and all he needed to do was light a match, which was conveniently sitting right by the fireplace. When the flame caught, the room was ignited with light. It was only when he turned around that he noticed Beth hadn't moved an inch.

Not having to worry about the men and having to devise a plan of escape allowed him to fully take in Beth and her appearance. Her cheek was even worse than he had first thought. The shades seemed to have darkened and the scrapes were covered in dirt. He would have to clean it, but he was pretty sure now wasn't a good time. Her normally perfect, confident posture was now slumped, and she seemed to be favoring her right side, though he couldn't see any injury that would cause her to do so. But it wasn't the physical injuries that worried him; it was the obvious emotional trauma she had suffered that scared him the most.

He decided to let her be, to let her have her time alone to process everything. He went to the kitchen and began looking through the cupboards, hoping to find some food. He found a few cans of beans and mixed fruit and was shocked when he saw the amount of bottled water this cabin had. Off in the corner sat four unopened cases of bottled water. When he had searched every inch of the kitchen he went back to the common area.

Beth was sitting in the middle of the floor, eyes staring at the fire much like they had the first night after the prison. But things were so different now. Back then he knew he would be able to get Beth back, but now he was afraid she was gone for good. The girl sitting there was just a shell of the person she used to be.

The tears started trailing down her face, slow but steady. Then he watched as she lay on her side, curled into a little ball, her crying continually growing louder until her sobs were radiating through the cabin. His heart sank as he watched her small frame shake and heard her gasp for breath. He wanted to run over to her and cradle her in his arms, but he knew that there was no such thing as a comforting touch for Beth now. He knew that touching her would only scare her even more.

He stood there by the entrance to the kitchen and watched. It must have been hours before her sobbing finally died down, making the sudden lack of noise seem too quiet, eerie even. He thought about carrying her to the bed, but he didn't want to risk waking her up. He decided to take the blanket from the bed and gently lay it on her, being careful not to wake her. He lay down on the bed and watched her until his eyes became too heavy and he was overcome with exhaustion.

Author's Note: First of all, thank you for all of your reviews! I wasn't too sure how you guys would react to the last chapter, and I honestly wasn't that confident with it. But despite how terrible the events were in Ch.7, everyone seemed to like it.

Second, I have already written Ch.9. But, as I have come down with some kind of illness (crossing my fingers it's not the flu!), I'm not sure how good it is. I'm going to wait to post it until I have a chance to reread it and make sure my thoughts and ideas aren't jumbled and scattered like my head seems to be at the moment.