The last thing she heard was Maggie calling out in a panicked voice. "Bethy, no!"
Beth trekked through the long grass, feeling both dread and anticipation at war within her, and looked down at her clenched fists. The air shimmered around them; tangible evidence of her anger.
She reached the far side of the barn and turned around to face him, but Jeb was closer than she anticipated. He backhanded her across her right cheek and Beth lost her balance, staggering sideways from the force of the blow. She heard the crack of her own skull as it bounced off the wooden planks of the building.
"I don't know what you have planned, you little bitch, but you're not gettin' the jump on me." Jeb towered over Beth, pushing her onto her back roughly while he undid his fly.
She looked up at him groggily, fighting to get her bearings, but the outline of her attacker was hazy as he straddled one of her legs, and she felt her zipper being yanked apart.
Beth reached out blindly and grabbed one of the hands that was tugging her jeans down her hips, smelling his flesh searing from the contact with her palm, and she squeezed. The sound of Jeb's finger bones snapping inside her left fist made him come into sharp focus above her, and even though Beth's head was killing her she tightened her hold on him and made eye contact.
His cocky expression had morphed into one of confusion and fear as he gaped down at his hand, blurting out a high pitched, "What the fuck?"
The man jerked his arm back in a panic, trying to get her to let go, but Beth's grip was too strong, and the tug of war over his hand resulted in the unmistakable popping sounds of more bones dislocating.
She relinquished her hold on him to grab his collar before he could scream, pulling herself up and punching his windpipe with her other hand. He rocked back on his haunches and clutched his throat with his one good hand.
Beth's head was still ringing, but she kicked her legs at him violently to get him off her, rolling away as Jeb fell on his side with a thud and curled into the fetal positon on the ground. His mouth was hanging open, eyes wide and gasping for air, and he cradled the twisted mess of fingers that hung at bizarre angles from his right hand.
Scrambling to her feet and sucking in a ragged breath, Beth had to take a couple shaky steps before her legs felt strong enough beneath her again.
Jeb's jacket fell away from his side as he rocked back and forth, exposing the knife sheathed there on his belt, and Beth lunged for it while he was preoccupied with his pain. She lifted the blade in the air, only wavering slightly before bringing it down to his temple and embedding it in his brain.
Beth pulled the knife out, grimacing as the blade made a strange sucking sound when it left the wound, and stepped away from the body with disgust. She kept the knife clenched in her hand as she stood and pulled her jeans up, thinking of the situation she needed to return to on the other side of the barn.
Her family was still there, fearing for her and likely wondering who would be the next victim, and she had no idea how to save them without going full-fledged Carrie on the other two men.
She fastened the button on her jeans and crept around the side of the barn, slowing when she reached the far corner next to the driveway. Beth crouched down on the grass and peaked around with one eye.
Both men had their backs turned to her, and the father seemed to be getting impatient for his son to return. He yelled out to him, "Jesus H Christ, Jeb, you'd better finish and get your fuckin' ass back out here! I don't like to be kept waitin'!"
Beth glanced over at Daryl and saw him eying her and the bloody knife she held with relief, but he tried to keep his expression blank. She shrugged at him, looking for some guidance, but he shook his head very slightly, looking over at the gun still pressed against Maggie's head, and she knew he had no plan on how to resolve this safely either.
Taking another look at the father where he still stood with the automatic rifle pointed at her family, Beth was praying for some inspiration to come to her when a streak of white fur shot out of the barn and latched itself onto the back of the older man's leg. He screamed and twisted around, trying to see what was clawing him. Dwight looked over at the sudden commotion in shock and lowered his gun slightly, temporarily distracted from his task as his father howled in pain.
The older man spun in a circle, unable to quite reach the cat as it bit down through his pants, and he let loose a string of curse words, his finger squeezing the trigger on his automatic weapon and sending a spray of bullets flying through the air over her family's heads.
Beth watched them duck down to avoid getting hit, and Rick and Glenn were the first to charge forward while the men were distracted, tackling them violently to the ground. Dust rose around them as the father and son were overwhelmed by the number of people pinning them down.
When Daryl saw that the others had the situation in hand he turned and headed straight for Beth where she stood at the corner of the barn, grabbing her arm and pulling her back around out of sight from the rest of the group.
He was livid. And while he paced back and forth in front of her, Beth waited for the inevitable harsh words she knew were stewing inside him. She'd only ever seen Daryl this mad once before, at the moonshine still, and she understood now that on the rare occasion when he did lash out, it was always rooted in fear.
Beth watched him patiently, wishing he wouldn't chew down so hard on his thumb because she could see the nail was bleeding.
He narrowed his eyes when he saw how calm she was and shook his head angrily. "What the hell was you thinkin'?"
"I didn't have a choice, Daryl."
"Course you had a choice!" He waved his hand in the air dismissively. "We woulda figured somethin' out."
"And how many of our family would have been raped or killed before we 'figured somethin' out'?" Beth reached for one of his hands so he would stop pacing and Daryl flinched slightly at the residual heat still coming from her palms, but then seemed to accept the momentary pain as proof she was still alive and allowed her to pull him closer. "You know as well as I do that I stood a better chance against him. And they had a gun on my sister, Daryl. She's the last blood I've got left." Beth searched his face for any sign of understanding. There was no way she could have stood by and let Maggie or anyone else get hurt.
Daryl swallowed thickly, his eyes darting over her upturned face. He sighed and laid his hands on her shoulders, walking her back a couple steps until she was pressed against the side of the barn in front of him. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes squeezed shut, and there was a tremor in his voice when he spoke. "When I watched you walk away, him followin' you…took everythin' I had not to go after ya."
Beth cupped Daryl's cheeks in her hands, her thumbs brushing back and forth, trying to wipe away the worry she saw there. She whispered, "I know."
"Can't lose you again, girl." Daryl ran his hands down her arms and up to her wrists, anchoring himself to her as he pulled his head back to meet her gaze.
"I'm not goin' anywhere." Beth gave her a head a little shake. "Just try and get rid of me."
Their faces were only inches apart, and all the chaos and violence of the world around them was temporarily forgotten. Daryl's gaze dropped to her mouth, and Beth only hesitated a moment before rising up on her toes and slowly closing the distance between them; her eyelids fluttering shut as she brushed her nose alongside his tentatively, feeling the warmth of his unsteady breaths against her mouth.
None of the relationships she'd had in the past had ever prepared her for just how intoxicating true physical attraction with someone could be. The feel of Daryl's chest rising and falling against hers had every nerve ending in her body firing and begging to be even closer to him.
She placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, waiting to see if he would pull back. Beth felt him huff quietly in frustration, like he was fighting some inner turmoil, but his grip on her wrists didn't loosen any. He shuddered against her indecisively again before seemingly making up his mind and leaning in to hesitantly graze his lips over hers. When Daryl angled his head down to brush another soft kiss across her mouth Beth sighed, parting hers slightly to run the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip.
"Bethy? Where are you?" Maggie's voice called out for Beth anxiously as she approached their side of the barn.
Beth's eyes flashed up to meet his briefly as he stepped away from her and adjusted his crossbow strap before Maggie rounded the corner. Beth turned to face her sister with a slightly dazed expression, touching her fingertips to her mouth where she could still feel the heat from Daryl's kiss.
Her older sister ran to her, throwing her arms around Beth in a panic. "Are you okay? Did that man hurt you?"
Beth shook her head and pulled back to see the red mark on Maggie's forehead where the gun barrel had been pressed, running the tip of her finger over it lightly and then looking her sister in the eye. "He's dead. He never got to…"
"Whatever possessed you to do that, Beth? What were you thinkin'?" Maggie gripped Beth's arms, waiting for an explanation.
"They were gonna start with somebody, and I didn't want anyone else to get hurt." Beth shrugged and glanced away from her sister's intense stare. "I thought I could take him."
Maggie's eyes opened wide and she shook her head. "He was twice your size!"
"I know." Beth took her hands and squeezed them. "I can't explain it. I just knew that I could."
Glenn came up to them and put a hand on his wife's shoulder, concerned about her, and she let go of Beth's hand with one last look to talk to him.
Daryl followed Beth as she walked out into the driveway and stooped to pick up her knife but, as she straightened, her eyes were drawn to Tara, Sasha and Tyreese. They were gathered solemnly around something in the driveway, but she couldn't see what.
Beth jogged over to them with a feeling of dread when she heard the unmistakable sound of crying.
In the chaos, no one had noticed him fall. It was only after the two men were subdued that anyone paused to look around.
Noah lay in the dirt, his legs folded awkwardly beneath him, staring up at the sky with blank unseeing eyes. There was a bullet hole just above his left brow, and Beth dropped to her knees beside him. She looked down at her friend's face and shook his shoulders, crying out his name. "Noah. Noah!"
His head just moved gently back and forth with her movements, and Daryl crouched down next to her, drawing his hand over the young man's eyes to close them. He pulled Beth up against him and rubbed her arm as she stared down at Noah's lifeless form in shock.
Over by the barn, their former captors were lying side by side in the dirt, hands raised in front of them and begging for their lives, but there was no debate needed. Rick picked up one of their rifles and waited for Abraham, Rosita and Michonne to step away before firing into each man's head. The group all turned their backs on the bodies to deal with the loss of one of their own.
Shovels were found, and Glenn and Abraham started digging a grave for their friend alongside the barn. Beth pulled away from Daryl and brushed her hair away from her face. He looked at her with concern, reaching out to tuck a few strands behind her ear that had escaped, and asked, "You alright?"
She grabbed Daryl's hand before he pulled it away and planted a kiss on his palm, nodding wearily, and glanced over at the barn, huffing a faint sound of amusement despite the tears in her eyes. Sitting in the shade, and all but forgotten after the commotion of the fight, was the cat that had come to their rescue.
He finished cleaning a paw as Beth approached him carefully, crouching down when she was still several feet away and holding out a hand, her voice a bit hoarse from the tears she was holding back. "Hey, Buddy. How ya doin'?"
The cat trotted over and rubbed around her legs while she petted him. Beth laughed softly when he stood up on his hind feet with one paw on her knee, reaching the other in the air, and picked him up. "You're a brave boy, aren't you? I can't believe you stuck around here all this time."
Daryl was standing behind Beth and watching her with a bemused look. "Buddy?"
"His picture's in on the fridge. He belonged to that little girl in there." Beth rubbed the cat's head sadly.
Eugene came and stood in front of her, his eyes wide with interest. "Did I hear correctly? That feline's name is Buddy?"
"Yeah." Beth looked at him, puzzled by his sudden curiosity.
His mouth hung open and he asked her again. "He's a he?"
Daryl snorted. "Boy or girl, looks like dinner to me."
"Daryl." Beth gave him a dirty look for the comment. "You'll do no such thing. He saved us."
The cat purred as she scratched the orange fur behind his ears, and she turned to Eugene and lifted up the cat's bum so he could tell the sex. "What difference does it make if it's a male?"
Eugene bent slightly at the waist to look. "I have always had a predilection for the science of genetics, and a particular holy grail of mine has been to come across a male calico as they are extremely rare. Only one in every three thousand calicos born is a male, simply because two X chromosomes, one with the gene for orange fur and one with black, are required for that particular coloring to be expressed in a litter. So if you have a male calico, by default he has an extra X chromosome. The scientific term is Klinefelter syndrome. He's a genetic anomaly, and unfortunately, sterile. Sorry, cat." He reached out and patted Buddy's head apologetically but the cat just purred at the extra attention. "It's amazin' that he was ever born, let alone survived the end of the civilized world as we know it. That cat in your arms is a miracle. Too fascinatin' to be somebody's dinner, if you ask me." Daryl raised an eyebrow at him and Eugene shifted nervously under his glare.
Beth saw that Rick and Abraham were carrying Noah's body over for his burial and she put the cat down gently, thankful for the brief distraction.
It was a small, quiet gathering around Noah's grave. Carl had fashioned together a cross, and Tara laid down some wildflowers in front of it. After a few words and a minute of respectful silence, the group dispersed.
Daryl found Rick in the barn and held out the key chain with a small school bus hanging off it. "You want the honors?"
"Yes, I do." Rick climbed the steps inside and sat in the seat, turning the key in the ignition. The engine rolled over weakly but caught, and he let it run to charge the battery up. Daryl plugged the air compressor Rosita had found into the cigarette lighter and pumped up the tires while the rest filled up whatever containers they could find with water for the rest of their journey.
The water was loaded on the bus, as well as some tools and another gas can and hose they'd found.
Seeing that Abraham had already dragged the bodies out of the way, Rick steered it out into the driveway and opened the doors.
Beth was taking one last look back at Noah's grave when Daryl came to get her. He put a hand at the small of her back, guiding her gently toward the bus where the others were already boarding, but she stopped mid-step when she heard him grumble behind her.
Daryl was looking down at his feet with annoyance while the cat rubbed furiously around his legs, meowing plaintively. Beth laughed and picked him up. "You comin' with us, little guy?"
"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me." He shot an irritated look at the animal, but Beth snuggled the cat close to her chest and gave Daryl a coy smile.
He rolled his eyes and sighed, fighting to hide his smirk when she giggled and hopped on the bus with the cat in her arms.
They were the last to get on. Beth settled in next to a window with Daryl beside her, the cat jumping down to run to Tara for attention when she wiggled her fingers across the seat next to her playfully.
Everyone was eager to put the last twelve hours behind them, so Rick swung the doors shut and guided the bus onto the road.
So, Jeb went down, maybe not as spectacularly as you would have thought, but that may have been due to some initial overconfidence on Beth's part. Still, she got the job done.
And it may have seemed random, but all that info that Eugene spewed out about male calicos being rare is actually true. I remember learning that in Genetics in university many moons ago and it always stuck with me for some reason.
The first kiss! I agree wholeheartedly with Norman Reedus...Daryl has absolutely no game, so even something little like a first kiss is going to be torturously awkward.
Let me know what you thought!