Take Me as I Am
Chapter 7
[Miracle]

"Well now folks, it seems like we gots ourselves a dilemma here," she heard the leader of the group, Joe grumble out behind her and Daryl. She saw Daryl's posture tense significantly as casted her a look that spoke of caution.

Beth gripped her knife closer to her body, her knuckles immediately flushing white from the sudden tension. After last night, she vowed she would get well acquainted with hand to hand combat if Daryl will teach her. She couldn't just simply rely on Daryl anymore. Not that she didn't trust him, she did—with every fiber in her body she did. However, she needed to fend for herself in case they were separated again. She was sure Daryl will approve of her logic.

"Oh, you think so?" Daryl's voice echoed loudly within the building. He was planning something, she didn't know what.

"Yeah. You see, young fellar. You just killed my friend there. Now, I ain't gonna say he didn't deserve it… but I made a promise to his daddy. The only to keep my promise alive is if you give me something as compensation," Joe nodded his head and the remaining members of the group encircled around them.

She followed suit when she saw Daryl slowly rose to his feet, gripping his crossbow and steadied himself for a fight. Her eyes than darted back to Joe, who had a very unsatisfied frown on his face.

"Well. One of yous gotta go," Joe stuck out his hand and pointed at her and Daryl with his index and middle finger in the shape of a 'V'.

"Not gonna happen. Both of us go together, you ain't splitting us apart." The moment the men began to take their step towards them, Daryl aimed his crossbow directly at Joe's head. "Now, you gonna move so the both of us can go or what, old man?"

Beth inwardly cringed at Daryl's choice of words. This wasn't the situation to be insulting the party with the upper hand, but heck… then again, Daryl probably didn't care. The only issue presented at this moment was that they were severely outnumbered, and outgunned.

"No… No I got a better idea," a sadistic smirk appeared on Joe's face, and with one slight nod of his head, hell broke loose all over again.

It had happened so quickly, Beth had no idea what was going on. Everything had seemed to blur together within the span of minutes, nothing made sense. Someone had fired a shot, but Beth didn't know who did or what or who the bullet pierced. With adrenaline already pumping through her body as the men were speaking, her body took action before her brain caught up with it.

She had dropped to the floor to avoid bullets shot at her and Daryl by one of the men surrounding them. He had tossed his gun behind him after the third rapid shot and unsheathed his dagger, out of ammo she assumed. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Daryl jump onto his feet and began hand to hand combat with two males.

The name of these men escapes her, what would she say on their graves? What a gruesome, coldhearted thought. Be that as it may, she and Daryl will make it out of this alive—she had no doubt about it… maybe? The man who fired the three shots leaped at her, with his dagger poised for attack. Beth may not be very strong, but what she lacked in strength she gained in speed. Somewhat.

She was able to jump out of the range of attack, but the man recovered his stance and was ready to strike at her again. Her foot collided with a piece of scrap metal with jagged edges, with no time to spare; she lifted the lighter end of the long scrap metal and swung it at the man's legs. It was a slow strike; the man was able to jump away from the swing without much effort. Or so he thought.

Beth almost cheered with victory when the man's pant leg caught onto the jagged edges of the scrap metal. It effectively stopped his attack on her as he tried to focus on maintaining his balance. She swelled with triumph when she saw his over leg trip over the scrap metal, sending him falling against the metal storage shelves causing misfit metal parts clattering onto the concrete floor.

Wasting no time, she ran over to Daryl who was now struggling to fend off Joe and this other man. Retrieving her fallen knife from the floor, she plunged the sharp blade into the back of Joe's left shoulder. She had no time to back away before she felt the back of his hand meet her face with a force so great, she fell onto the floor, her vision blurred into darkness.

A deafen ringing tone echoed in her ears as she struggled on the floor. In the background, she could hear the youngest male of the group shouting something through the commotion. She could hardly make out his frantic words.

" – coming!"

Coming? What was coming? Beth tried to focus more, but it proved to be worthless. Color and the shape of objects in front of her began to fill her vision again, but the blur was still there. Despite that, she lifted her head from the ground and saw the figure of Joe with something in his hands.

Her knife! She saw the bloodied, pointed tip aiming for Daryl's back as he shot another man dead with his crossbow. "No—Daryl!" She prayed he would turn around in time. With her head still swimming, she struggled to stand on her feet. As she failed to stand on her second attempt, she looked up frantically to hear the sickening sound of knife piercing into flesh.

Her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest when she heard his cry of pain. "Daryl!" Mustering all the strength she had left, she flew onto her feet and jumped onto Joe's back gripping his wrist that held onto her knife. She had stopped his second attack on Daryl, but his attention turned to her now that she was straddling his back.

"You stupid little cunt!" He hissed as he tried to pry his wrist out of her claw-like grip.

"Daryl, go!" She shouted in a strained voice. She had hoped she bought him enough time to get up and head for the exit, but he was struggling to get on his feet.

"ARG!" With a strangled cry of frustration, Joe turned his face to where her arm touched his. With his mouth wide open, he sank his teeth deep into the tender flesh of her forearm.

Beth screeched as the tearing pain shot up her spine. Blinded with pain, the hand that was steading herself on Joe's back reached up to his head. Her numb fingers found his left eye, without wasting another second, she sank her fingers into his eye- feeling the warm, sticky substance of blood covering her fingers.

Joe let out a blood curling howl that shook the walls of the building, and launched Beth onto the floor with a mighty toss of his arm. He stumbled onto the floor, clutching his eye in his hands, shouting obscenities.

Beth retrieved her fallen knife before crawling to Daryl on her knees and one arm, while cradling her injured arm close to her chest. "Daryl…" She whispered his name with a hiss of pain. "Daryl… a-are you okay?"

"Motherfucker stabbed me, 'course I ain't okay," he retorted, his face etched with pain. She quickly ripped a part of the sleeve of her shirt and pressed the rag against his bleeding wound. It wasn't gushing with blood, but it was deep enough to cause her concern.

For a second there, Beth thought the worse was over—despite the fact that they both suffered albeit serious injuries, she thought they escaped death. Nothing goes as planned, or even hoped. As Daryl and she caught their breaths for a few seconds, a rumble and the sound of metal giving against weight echoed into the building.

She felt Daryl grow still immediately—honing in on the sounds. She also strained to determine what those sounds were until the youngest male of the group, the acting sentry while the group fought, cursed and jumped down from his post near the window.

"Fuck, they're here! They're here!"

Beth watched with confusion as he and another older, heavier set male tried to get Joe onto his feet. 'What's here?' she thought to herself. She casted a forlorn look at Daryl's head, who turned his head and returned her gaze with worried and serious eyes.

"It's time to go Beth," he rasped out and gripped his crossbow's handle and brushed aside her hands, the bloodied rag falling onto dirt floor. He sucked in a breath when the strap of his crossbow slide over his wound, but he didn't falter. "Beth, we got to go… now!" His voice sounded almost fearful to her.

"Why? We have to get you fixed up first!" Beth scanned the walls of the building, hoping to find something useful in suturing wounds. That's when she heard it—the reason why Daryl was so hurried to leave this place.

Walkers. Hundreds of them, it sounded like… they were tearing down the chain-link around the back of the property, making their way towards the back door of the building.

She could hear their moans of hunger, their lips smacking from their thirst for live blood—the metal door began to shake and give against the fists of the walking dead.

Adrenaline coursed through her blood again—causing her to leap onto her feet, despite her sore ankle. "We gotta go, we gotta go!" she whispered to Daryl as she slipped one of her arms around the back of his shoulders to help him up. He suppressed his groan of pain and accepted her help to stand. He staggered forward weakly as she took a step. "Come on, Daryl. That's it, another step!" she motivated him to continue with each step despite both of their bodies being in pure agony.

"Oh no! You fuckers better get back here!" Joe shouted, shoving the two males helping him up aside. He staggered onto his feet; a crazed look adorned his face. "If I'm dying here, you fuckers are dying with me!"

Oh God... No!

Beth looked over her shoulders to see the two males trying to stop him from killing them all. The crazed man was pushing aside the barricade of shelves and boxes of the back door—where the walkers were prowling on the other side.

"What's the fucker doing?" Daryl stopped briefly to try and look over his shoulders—things had taken a turn for the worse.

The top hinge of the metal door was rusty and old; it stood no chance against the stubborn nature of the walkers as they pushed against the door. Fueled by Joe's shouts of taunting and tearing down the barricade, the walkers broke through the weakened door.

The two males snatched Joe by his shoulders and darted for the other door as the walkers fought to squeeze through the narrow doorway. "Come on, let's get out of here!" they shouted to each other as they shoved Daryl and Beth aside and escaped through the door they first entered through.

"Come on Daryl, we've got to go!" Beth pulled Daryl onto his feet and supported his weight, then taking quick but small steps to the exit. She felt as if she was living the day she was trapped in the tunnel two days ago—except this time, it was Daryl that she was helping. "Hurry!"

The duo made it past the escape door as the walkers started to file into the dimly light building, Daryl quickly turned around and slammed the door shut—but it won't hold the walkers back for long. They hurried their way down the few steps as best as they could with injuries as severe as theirs.

"Which way, Daryl?" Beth panicked as she looked at the railroad tracks.

"Funeral home, that way," he gritted through his clenched jaw and nodded at the direction they came from.

It worried her to go back to the funeral home—it had been overrun with walkers the last she remembered. At this point, they couldn't waste any more time. A step at a time, they made their way onto the tracks and headed towards the way Daryl pointed out.

Behind her, she could hear the metal door bursting open, the sound of the dead growing louder as their numbers multiplied by the dozen. "We've gotta hurry," Beth whispered and quickened her pace. In front of them, she saw Joe and the two males, struggling to escape the herd as well.

Before she could register what the man was doing, he aimed a gun at their direction and pulled the trigger.

Time flew by in slow motion. Her eyes followed the deadly bullet as it grew increasingly large and closer to them, and suddenly as if time sped up again, Daryl cried out and slumped onto the gravel filled tracks.

Blood oozed under him. He'd been hit. Daryl has been shot.

Tears poured out of her eyes, stunned—she was unable to move for the moment. In the background, she heard the two men beside Joe shouting at him as he laughed. "Daryl, Daryl, get up we have to go!" she cried out desperately, her voice cracking with panic. She caught a glance of the walkers on their trail, they were getting closer and closer with every second she let Daryl stay on the ground.

"Come on, Daryl! I ain't leaving you," she pulled him up onto his feet with uncharacteristic strength. Despite his groans of pain, and his faltering steps, Beth pushed on.

The walkers were close, just as if she was back in that dark tunnel; the walkers were only a few steps away from reaching them. Their only saving grace was that most of these walkers following them were old—decomposition had taken its toll on them.

"Beth… I can't. Take my crossbow… ugh… a-and just go," he attempted to shove her in front of him, to sacrifice himself so she can live.

Beth gripped harder onto his body, "NO!" she let out a stubborn cry. "I'm not leaving you Dixon. You hear me? I'm not going to let you die… not if I can save you."

"I'm just slowing you down, dam'it!"

"No! Just shut up and walk!" Beth shouted, pushing even harder and faster. They closed the distance between her and Daryl and the three men. They had been arguing—and now Joe was turning on the two men.

Joe struggled to grab the rifle from the younger male, but failed when the younger male pushed against him and tripped against the metal rails of the tracks. Screaming, Joe plunged into the shallow ditch of grass and gravel, a sickening crack echoed loudly against the moans of the undead.

"Get down here, you fools and pick me up!" she heard him command in his less than fierce voice. She watched the two men falter, unsure of what to do. "Shoot them so the fucking dead can eat their body and come get me!" he bellowed.

Beth's heart nearly stopped in her chest when they turned to aim their rifle and shotgun at them. 'Please no! Please!' her eyes pleaded with them. Behind her, she could hear the crackles of the gravel under the weight of the walkers. They weren't far. In a split second, as she was deciding if she and Daryl should run off the tracks or not, the guns roared as bullets were propelled out of the barrel and into their direction.

In that fraction of time, the only thing that flashed before her eyes was Daryl's genuine happiness as he cradled Judith in his arms, and wondered how much wider his smile would be if he was holding his own child.

Please… Lord… please… Give us a miracle… Please… give us a chance, together.

/

J.R.- Whoa, intense chapter :P Beth's getting pretty badass when her adrenaline kicks in!

Thanks for reading folks and please do review!