This chapter is extra long because I was unable to update the past two days, and I may not be able to update for another few days because of the ongoing "crisis" at work. Please review; your reviews make me happy! :)
Beth stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel to dry off. She glanced at Daryl's towel hanging on the rack next to where hers had been and rolled her eyes, knowing that in the full week they had been at the cabin, he had only showered once. Daryl's rough nature made showering a low priority for him, and while Beth would have once found such a habit unappealing, she realized that Daryl actually looked quite good covered in dirt and grime. Who would have thought that she would find Daryl's lack of cleanliness sexy?
Beth looked at her reflection in the mirror and examined the stitches that were still present on the corner of her forehead. She realized that they had been in for seven days, which was two days longer than when they should have been removed. Her father had always removed facial stitches after four or five days. She sighed sadly at the memory of him and decided she would attempt to remove the stitches today.
She dressed in her only set of clothes that were quickly becoming filthy again and took a moment to tie her wet hair up in a ponytail. She pulled out the Swiss army knife that was in one of her pants pockets as always and flipped open the small pair of scissors. Leaning close to the mirror, she brought the tip of one of the blades to her wound and tried to delicately cut one of the stitches free. She winced as the thread pulled at her still-sensitive skin, and she sighed and lowered the scissors. She wanted Daryl's help with this task.
Beth could hear Daryl outside digging holes for their sharpened wood posts. So far, they had put posts in the ground on three sides of the cabin, and they were close to finishing their line of defense on the fourth side today. The sharpened points circled the cabin leaning outward with only about 6 inches between each post, save for a small opening they had made for themselves on one side of the cabin. Any ghouls that managed to slip through the opening would then trip the small perimeter alarm that was still hanging by the front door. They had been able to test the spikes once on two walkers that had wandered their way, but the dead had been too stupid to go for the opening in the spikes and ended up impaling themselves on the spikes in front of the cabin. It had been easy to take care of them while they were stuck on the spikes. Although the spikes were not nearly as good of a defense as the prison's high fences had been, they were enough to make the pair of them feel relatively safe for the time being.
Beth wandered outside and around the side of the cabin and watched Daryl digging for a few moments before approaching him. He looked up at her and stood from where he was digging, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
"Looks like it's almost done," she observed. Daryl nodded.
"Just a couple more holes to dig."
Daryl turned the metal bucket he was using as a shovel upside down and sat down on it, taking a swig of water from the bottle he had with him outside. He looked up at the sun in the sky and squinted, trying to decipher the time.
"Looks to be about late morning," he said. "You still up for heading up toward the road today?"
"Yeah," Beth agreed. They intended to follow the road for a ways to see if they could find a nearby town, or at least get a better idea of where they were. Now that Beth's injuries were in much better shape, she couldn't wait to get out of the cabin for a bit.
"Could you help me take my stitches out before we go?" Beth asked. "I tried, but it hurt and I sorta chickened out."
Daryl gave her half a smirk and nodded. He stood from his makeshift seat on the bucket and nodded toward the house. Beth made her way back inside with Daryl following. She sat on one of the living room couches and waited while Daryl washed his hands in the kitchen sink. He made his way over to the small end table where he had found the sewing kit and grabbed the small pair of sewing scissors. Beth scooted to the edge of the couch and Daryl crouched in front of her.
"We probably should have taken these out a few days ago," Beth said as he gently tilted her head up toward the light, examining the stitches. "Daddy told me that you should take facial stitches out after five days."
Daryl hummed in agreement and gently brushed his thumb over the stitches. Beth suddenly realized how close his face was to hers and tried to ignore her rapidly increasing heartbeat. Daryl raised the sewing scissors to the stitches and began carefully snipping them free. The tugging on the wound hurt a bit, but Beth was too focused on the feeling of Daryl's touch on her face and how blue his eyes looked up close that she didn't even notice the pain. He set the scissors down on the coffee table and began gently pulling each thread free from the freshly healed wound. Before long, he was finished, and Beth felt a small pang of disappointment when he pulled away and stood.
"Sorry I didn't do a better job stitchin' it up," he muttered. "It's a scar now."
Beth blinked and snapped back to reality.
"It's okay," she said quickly. "I'll take a scar over ending up where those men were takin' me any day."
Daryl's expression noticeably darkened at the mention of Beth's kidnappers, and she quickly changed the subject.
"You ready to head out toward the road?"
Daryl nodded. "Got everythin' packed?"
"Yep," Beth said, standing from the couch and going to retrieve her backpack by the door. She had packed two cans of food, some water, matches, and the basic first aid kit from the bathroom just in case they ran into trouble on the road and couldn't get back that day. Beth slipped the backpack over her shoulders and Daryl grabbed his crossbow before they both headed out the door.
"Wish we could lock the door," Daryl muttered as they slipped through the gap in the spikes and began walking through the woods toward the road.
"Are you wanting to lock our stuff in or lock other people out?" Beth asked.
Daryl shrugged. "Both."
Beth was silent for a few moments, trying to make her steps as quiet as Daryl's as they walked through the woods. She couldn't help remembering that night at the funeral home, when Daryl had revealed that she had been the one to make him believe in good people. She remembered his intense gaze as he had stared at her, and she almost shivered at the memory.
"What happened to makin' it work? With other people, if they were to show up, I mean?" she asked tentatively.
"What're you talkin' about?"
"That night at the funeral home. You said that if the people who had been staying there came back, maybe we could make it work."
"That was different."
"How? If people showed up at the cabin, isn't that kinda the same thing?"
Daryl turned to look at her, his expression unreadable.
"I guess."
Beth could hear the doubt in his voice, and it almost pained her to hear it.
"Just because some bad people tried to take me doesn't mean that all people are bad, Daryl," she said softly. "I still believe that, and I hope you do, too."
Daryl said nothing, just stared at the ground as they walked with his jaw clenched tight. Beth wanted to walk closer to him, maybe try to remind him that there were still good people around, but she didn't. She let out a short sigh and walked next to him in silence, the air tense around them.
After walking in silence for a while, they reached the road. Beth's eyes traveled down the pavement and landed on the wrecked car that had taken her. Her eyes widened and she lifted a hand to her mouth in astonishment. The front end of the car was completely collapsed into the tree, and broken glass littered the ground. She was amazed that she had survived such a crash with only minor injuries. Tears pricked her eyes, but she couldn't tell if it was because the image was upsetting or if she was just so thankful to be alive. She looked to Daryl, who was watching her with concern reflected in his eyes. He didn't say anything, but he extended his hand to her. She took it and laced her fingers with his, the gesture more comforting than any words would have been. Daryl gave her hand a soft squeeze and began gently leading her away in the opposite direction of the wreck. Beth blinked the tears away and turned away from the car, putting the image behind her.
The pair of them walked hand in hand in comfortable silence for some time. Eventually, Daryl spotted a few empty cans of food on the side of the road, and he dropped Beth's hand to pick them up.
"For the perimeter alarm," he said, motioning for her to turn around so he could put them in her backpack. She hoped he would take her hand again as they resumed walking, but to her disappointment, he didn't. They continued walking for about half an hour until they came across an old, beaten up pickup truck on the side of the road. Daryl stopped as they approached it.
"Doesn't look like it's been sittin' here too long," he observed. "Maybe the battery is still good."
Beth's grew hopeful. A working vehicle would be extremely useful. Most of the cars they had passed on the side of the road had been there for so long that they were in no shape to drive, and even if they were, it was likely that their batteries had been dead for too long to use. Daryl peeked inside the truck and opened the driver's side door. He didn't find any keys and instead went to work on hotwiring the car. Beth leaned against the side of the truck keeping watch as he worked. They hadn't encountered any walkers on the road yet, but Beth was still on alert, just in case.
A few minutes later, the truck roared to life. Daryl gave Beth a grin, and she happily made her way around the truck the passenger side. The pair hopped in and began driving down the road in the direction they had been walking.
"Even if we don't find a town, I'd say today was already successful," Beth declared happily.
Daryl squinted up ahead, a green sign slowly coming into view.
"The day might be gettin' even better," he muttered as the sign came into reading distance. "Greenville, 5 miles."
He raised his hand on the steering wheel to glance down at the gas gauge.
"Still got about a quarter of a tank left. Maybe we can find more gas in Greenville."
"Among other things," Beth said hopefully. Maybe they could find more food, toiletries, or even fresh clothing. She tried not to get her hopes up too high, but she couldn't help it. It felt like forever since Beth had seen an actual town.
Soon the truck was entering the small town. It was tiny, and according to the sign on the city limits, it had had a population of 876 before the outbreak. It was clearly a historical town, as several ornate old buildings lined the street. Beth smiled at the sight of a rather magnificent historical county courthouse, though it had clearly fallen into disrepair after the turn. The main road of the town circled around the courthouse, and Daryl pulled to a stop in front of a line of shops.
"Let's check out the pharmacy first," he said, nodding at the single-story white building with the words "Greenville Drug Co." displayed above the door.
Beth climbed out of the car and stretched, looking around the town square. Her eyes landed on a green sign with arrows pointing in the directions of nearby towns, and she felt a slight chill when she read the words "Woodbury" at the top of the sign.
"Daryl," she said softly. "Look."
Daryl followed her gaze and frowned at the sign. He wasn't sure how close Greenville was to Woodbury, but he had no desire to get any closer to it. It was no longer a threat, but the very name brought back too many painful memories for both of them.
"C'mon," he grunted, eager to get away from the reminder of Woodbury.
Daryl approached the pharmacy and gave the door a few loud taps. After a moment, two walkers shuffled into view, pressing their decaying bodies against the glass. Beth pulled open the door and Daryl quickly took down one with his crossbow, killing the other swiftly with his hunting knife. The pair cautiously entered the pharmacy, but aside from the two biters that had been within, it was quiet. Daryl grabbed a few plastic bags from behind the counter and handed a few to Beth.
"You take that side. Take anything that could be remotely useful," he said. She nodded and made her way over to the right side of the store.
It looked like the place had already been looted once or twice, but Beth was still able to find several luxury items that she almost moaned aloud upon seeing. Toothpaste, deodorant, lotion, body wash, shampoo, shaving razors, lip balm . . . all items that were not necessary for survival, but would drastically improve her day to day mood. She shoved them all into the plastic bags she was carrying with a wide smile on her face. She turned down the next aisle and was faced with feminine hygiene products. She realized with a start that she hadn't had a period since they had still been living at the prison. She wondered if the stress of survival had interrupted her cycle, and decided she had better grab some supplies to be prepared for whenever her period decided to make another appearance.
As she made her way down the aisle, shoving pantyliners and tampons into her bags, she came across the family planning section. The selection of condoms seemed to stare at her, and she blushed thinking about any scenario when she might need them. She was sure that Daryl didn't think of her as she had been thinking of him, but what if he changed his mind? What if she was finally able to make Daryl see her as a woman, a woman he wanted, and then was caught unprepared? She quickly glanced down the aisle to make sure Daryl wasn't watching before shoving two boxes of ordinary condoms into her bag. She quickly covered them with the packages of tampons, knowing Daryl wouldn't go digging in that bag for anything, and moved on.
"Find anything good?" Daryl's voice startled her as she came around the corner. She felt herself blushing at the thought of the condoms in her bag and nodded.
"Mostly just luxury items," she said. "I can't wait to wash my hair with the coconut shampoo I found!"
Daryl rolled his eyes at her. "Well, while you were nabbing girly shit, I got first aid supplies, ibuprofen, a map, and a couple bags of jerky that were under one of the shelves. All the other food is gone."
Beth nodded. "Let's put the bags in the truck and see what else we can find around here."
They exited the pharmacy and Beth scanned the shops that were near the pharmacy while Daryl loaded the bags in the truck. None of the stores looked particularly useful, but she found herself wandering toward a small clothing boutique. She turned to Daryl, who was eying her with arched eyebrows.
"Can we? Please? My clothes are so dirty, and I'd kill for a shirt to wear that isn't covered in dirt and walker guts."
Daryl rolled his eyes, but nodded, following her to the clothing boutique. He pounded on the door, but no biters made an appearance. Beth opened the door and Daryl entered first, his crossbow raised. The shop was empty, however, and he made his way back outside.
"Where are you going?" Beth asked.
"Found some cigarettes in the pharmacy," he said. "I'm gonna enjoy one out here while you do your shopping. Be quick about it."
Beth looked around the store and hurried over to a shelf where jeans were still folded neatly as if they hadn't been disturbed since the turn. She grabbed two pairs in her size, one in black and one in a lighter denim, and quickly grabbed a few shirts. She made her way back toward the dressing rooms to change into her new clothes and stopped upon seeing the intimates section. The bras and underwear were all fancier and more mature than the ones she wore now, and she felt a sudden sense of excitement upon seeing them. She had never worn lacy undergarments like these, and the thought of wearing something pretty underneath her clothes excited her. She picked out several pairs of delicate panties and two matching bras and took her pile of clothing into the dressing room to change.
When she emerged from the dressing room, Beth felt like a new woman, dressed in new clothes from head to toe. She had chosen the black jeans and a simple, loose gray tunic with a black cami underneath. She grinned at the thought of the black lace underwear that she wore under her new clothes, and she happily exited the store to find Daryl finishing his cigarette outside.
"Well, don't you look shiny and new," he remarked.
"You outta find some new clothes for yourself while we're here," Beth suggested. "You've been wearing those for over a month."
Daryl shrugged, his clothing the last thing on his mind. "Got better things to look for," he said. "Let's head over to that garage, see if there's stuff we can use for the perimeter alarm."
Beth followed Daryl across the street to a white auto garage. It was thankfully void of walkers, and she and Daryl quickly ransacked the place, taking things that could be used for the perimeter alarm as well as a few cans of gasoline and a fully-stocked toolbox that would surely be of use.
As they left the garage, Daryl stopped in his tracks and pointed toward the courthouse. About fifteen to twenty walkers were shambling in their direction.
"Time to go," Daryl grunted, running back to the truck with Beth on his heels. They tossed the supplies from the auto shop in the truck bed and Daryl quickly started the truck and began driving back down the highway they had come in on. Beth watched the small herd of walkers shuffling after them as the town disappeared behind them, the dead disappearing with it.
"I'd say today was a good day," Beth said with a smile.
Daryl glanced at her and smiled as well. "Yeah," he agreed. "Today was definitely a good day."