"Oh my God that's comfortable," Merle muttered as he stretched the next morning. "I'd forgot what it feels like."
"Me too," Sinclaire replied sleepily. "I don't want to get up."
"It's quiet," Merle said after listening for a moment. "Reckon everybody else feels the same way."
"Back to sleep?" she questioned in a whisper.
"Damn good idea Yank."
It was still pretty quiet when Sinclaire managed to pull herself free of the sirens call of the air mattress. Lori and Carol were up, motherhood having reset their body clocks pretty much irreparably, and she thought she heard low conversation from Dale and Andrea's room, but she didn't really stop to chat.
Sinclaire stepped onto the back porch and stood squinting out at the sun. It wasn't cold just yet, but there was a snap in the air and a fall-ish smell around the trees. There was another smell too, familiar but she couldn't place it for a few seconds. She stepped down off the porch sniffing thoughtfully as she walked around the corner of the building.
"Where'd you get that?"
Daryl jumped and the cigarette fell into the grass. Sinclaire picked it up and handed it back with an apologetic smile.
"Fuckin' hell, ya walk quiet," Daryl took a drag from the cigarette and squinted at her through the smoke. "I been hoardin' 'em to answer yer question. Ya ain't gonna tell nobody," he continued firmly. "I ain't the type to share."
"I won't say a word," she promised. "You know, I've never had one." She gave a wry smile and said, "I was always afraid it would kill me."
He gave a half laugh and held it out to her, eyebrows raised.
"I thought you weren't the sharing type."
"One puff's a fuckload different than Merle findin' out and takin' 'em all. Come on," he said when she hesitated. "My brother says yer part Indian…pretend it's a peace pipe."
She put the cigarette between her lips and inhaled gingerly, determined not to cough like an idiot. Daryl watched in amusement as her face went beet red with the effort. Her exhale was quick and shuddery as she handed the cigarette back.
"Good job," he complimented her, smacking her on the back.
She coughed out a "Fuck you!" and he laughed.
"Where the hell ya'd go Yank?"
"Shit! Go, go!" Daryl practically shoved her in the direction Merle's voice had come from and, taking one last drag, flung the cigarette as far in the opposite direction as he could.
"I'm right here," she called, just before he bellowed for her again.
"The hell ya doin' out here by yerself?" he asked. "Ya coulda woke me up…"
"I wasn't by myself," she said. "Daryl's over there somewhere."
"Just about everybody's up now," Rick cut in. "We thought we'd have breakfast and make plans for the day."
Daryl stopped on the bottom step, waiting for Merle to go inside. After Sinclaire and Rick disappeared into the building Merle looked down at him with his arms folded across his chest and said, "Give me half and I won't say nothin'. Ya know T-dog and Andrea smoked too."
"How'd ya…"
"I lost my hand not my damn nose," Merle held his left hand out and Daryl dropped a pack of Marlboro's into it before heading into the bar with a sigh.
"Need to get some huntin' done," Daryl said after everyone had eaten. "Winter's comin' and then we're gonna be fucked."
Everyone agreed that was a good idea so near the middle of the day, Daryl shouldered his bow and headed out.
"No one's going with him?" Sinclaire asked in surprise.
"Daryl hunts alone," Merle answered. "Come on, Yank. We got somethin' to get up to."
"We do?"
He waved her away from the group.
"I'm thinkin' we ain't utilizin' all our resources," he said.
"What resources?"
Merle pointed and Sinclaire looked. They were standing near the top of the ridge and she could see, way down below across the river and lake, something light breaking up the trees.
"What the…are those houses?"
"Lake front property," Merle drawled the words with pure pleasure. "Can ya imagine what they've got?"
Sinclaire was quiet for a moment, then she solemnly held her right fist out and Merle bumped it.
"We should scout the town too," she suggested. "Check out the local zombie hot spots."
"Sounds like a plan," Merle headed for the truck.
Sinclaire followed and, after giving Rick a heads up so they didn't inspire a search party, she slid into the driver's seat and cranked it up. Merle gave her a grin as they hit the pavement.
"Happy?" she questioned.
"Glad to be outta there fer a while," he admitted. "Ain't seen much of ya lately."
"You missed me?" she was surprised and extremely flattered.
Merle shrugged, "I don't mind admittin' I like ya better'n the rest."
"I like you better than the rest too," she replied awkwardly. "What does that say about us exactly?"
"That we got good damn taste."
As she drove and they talked she realized how much she'd missed just hanging out with Merle. They began to speculate on what would be in the mansions.
"Big fuckin' stacks of money," Merle said.
"What would we do with it?" she asked.
"Make a bonfire?" he suggested with a grin. "Spread it across the air mattresses and sleep on it?"
"Use hundreds for toilet paper," she said, getting into the spirit of the thing.
"Give some to Daryl so he can finally get laid."
"He's a late bloomer," Sinclaire reassured Merle. "Give him time."
Merle snorted. "I started when I was 14. Ain't no excuse. Anyway, maybe they got jewelry." He pictured big shiny diamonds.
"You want to feel pretty?" Sinclaire teased.
"Fuck you. Maybe there's…"
"Books!"
"Sure I reckon they got books," he agreed amiably.
"No…books!" she pointed to the library.
"Okay."
"We're going in."
"No we ain't."
"Yes we are," Sinclaire parked the truck and met Merle's belligerent, expression with a sunny smile. "This is one of those times when you have to remember how much you like me."
He snorted, but he got out when she did and they walked around the building, peering in windows and checking for signs of Walkers.
"Looks all right," he admitted. "But, come on Yank…we can do this another day."
Sinclaire didn't answer; she was too busy jimmying the lock. He sighed and followed her inside. She relocked the door so they wouldn't be surprised and Merle sighed in irritation at the waste of time better spent looting rich people's homes.
She looked at the new books first, reading the backs of them or the jackets where the backs weren't helpful, and stacking the ones she wanted on the reference desk where Merle had propped himself. When she stepped over to the fiction section several isles away Merle lost him patience.
"Come on! Ya got enough right here!"
"Don't yell in the library," Sinclaire replied in a stage whisper.
"Damn it Yank!" he picked up one of the books she'd chosen and said, "Why don't ya tell me just how a "tense psychological thriller about a man on the run from the C.I.A" is gonna help us loot anything."
"Well," she came back with another armload of books. "A lot of fiction writers research their subject pretty thoroughly before they write…"
"And don't lots of 'em talk out their ass too?"
"I'm sure they do," she replied, going behind the desk and getting several bags. "Never been back here. Feels kind of nice. Ask me about the Dewey Decimal System."
"What the fuck?"
She laughed and bagged her books as she said, "But you make a good point. I wonder if there are any books about what we're going through."
"Books on zombies?" Merle shook his head. "I ain't never heard of nothin' like this in no damn book."
"Yeah, but you're the kind of man who only opens the printed word if there're tits to be seen."
He shrugged and gave her a half smile.
"I mean viral outbreaks and stuff like that. Oh! And sustainability!"
"Ya get awful damn excited about books," he observed when she bolted for the card catalog.
"My dad taught English. Thank God you guys are so backwoods, most places have all this computerized and then I would have had to take days to go through…aha!"
By the time Merle's impatience grew uncontainable she'd gathered three more bags of books, including a wide range of juvenile fiction and non-fiction for Carl and Sophia.
"All right!" she said finally. "I guess we can go."
"It's almost dark," Merle said in irritation. "If I could drive the damn truck I'da left your bookworm ass here."
"Whatever, you like me the best," she laid the bags carefully in the back of the truck and smiled at him over her shoulder.
"Knew I shouldn'ta told ya," he grumbled.
"Don't be a sore loser. There're some houses in town. We can loot those before we go back home."
"Fuckin' hell. Ain't gonna be near as good," Merle crossed his arms.
"Come on! I'm under orders to bring back canned peaches if at all possible."
"Canned peaches?"
"Lori wants them," she explained.
"Fuck her."
"How about this…if we only find one can I'll let you eat it in front of her."
Merle laughed and Sinclaire knew she was off the hook. She had spent a lot of the day in the library. They parked on the side street and walked up to a brown ranch style house. The door was open when she tried it so she and Merle both drew their guns and proceeded with caution.
The house had clearly been broken into, but it had apparently happened in the early riots, because it was only electronics and such that were missing. Picture frames lay broken on the floor and Sinclaire pulled her gaze away from the pictures that had spilled out. She couldn't help but notice who they were though, a woman and a girl, both smiling into the camera with their arms around each other.
The kitchen was decently stocked. There was canned fruit, three cans of peaches to be exact, and canned vegetables and soup and other nonperishables. Merle got some bags from under the sink and they loaded them up.
"Who the hell really eats Vienna sausages?" Sinclaire whispered in disgust.
"I do," Merle answered defensively, grabbing the can from her.
"You want to finish up here while I check the bathroom?"
"What ya lookin' for in the bathroom?"
"Soap and shampoo, maybe razors and shave gel."
"Knock yourself out. Holler if ya need me."
Sinclaire stuck two bags in her back pocket and headed down the hall. She found several unopened bars of soap under the sink in the bathroom and, even though she felt weird about it, she took the shampoo and conditioner that was in the shower. With everyone bathing they'd go through it pretty fast. There was shaving cream and some razors that hadn't been used. She bagged it quickly, trying not to think about who it used to belong to. Maybe looting wasn't going to be one of her favorite things.
She stood up and glanced in the mirror and her heart jumped into her throat.
Merle figured she must need him, because that was quite a holler.
He dropped the bag he was filling on the kitchen table and ran up the hall, colliding with her as she came running down.
"Go!" she shrieked. "More than one! Window open…move, move, move!"
Merle glanced over her shoulder and saw what she meant. They were at the first house in the little residential area and, from the window at the end of the hall, he could see an entire herd coming their way. About ten were headed toward them from the bedrooms on either side of the hall and more were pushing in through the window.
He ran after her, stopping briefly to snag the bags of food on the table…hell, they'd worked for it, and then heading for the truck as fast as possible. Sinclaire, who was already in the truck, kept him covered as he ran her way. He flung the food into the back of the truck and then slammed the door. Sinclaire stomped the gas.
"Good God," Merle breathed. "Ya really can yell when ya wanna."
She laughed shakily.
"I can't believe you brought the food!"
"Ya got the shower stuff," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but I've got two hands!"
"I knew ya wouldn't let 'em get me," he shrugged.
"Aw. I'd cry if I weren't so high on terror-endorphins."
She really was touched, but she knew he wouldn't appreciate knowing it anymore than she would relish saying it.
They drove around for a bit in several different directions in hopes of throwing the zombies off the scent before they headed back to the bar, so they got there at the same time Daryl showed up with a deer and six rabbits.
"Nice work little brother," Merle said. "We got the side dishes right here."
"Yeah?" Daryl looked interested.
"Green beans and corn, Vienna sausages…" Merle listed as Daryl looked like he might drool.
"And books," Sinclaire said.
Crickets. Sinclaire threw her hands up and gathered some bags. The others, particularly Dale, Carol and Sophia, were more receptive to the written word and Dale even mentioned going back sometime if Sinclaire would show him where the library was. She agreed, happy to be appreciated at last, and they all sat down to a dinner of rabbit, green beans, and peaches for dessert.
That night, Sinclaire bundled herself into her sleeping bag and picked up the book Merle had been making fun of in the library. She was only a few pages into the story when Merle said, "So what's it about?"
"It's a tense psychological thriller about a man on the run from the C.I.A," she replied dryly.
"Smartass Yank."
"Want me to read it to you?"
"Hell, I ain't got nothin' else to do," he said, to her surprise.
She flipped back to the beginning and started out, "Jack Nelson was a wanted man…"
A few minutes later, Daryl banged on the wall and said, "Louder."
"Get your ass in here," she replied.
A few seconds later Daryl came in and sat at the foot of Merle's mattress. Sinclaire shook her head behind the book and grinned to herself as she read the first chapter and then, using a leaf as a bookmark, closed the book.
"Hey!" Merle barked. "Ya ain't just gonna stop there are ya?"
"We'll read more tomorrow night," she said, using her father's patient tone. "So, you admit it wasn't a waste of time?"
"I'm just sayin' that now that ya got the damn book I'm gonna get somethin' out of it," Merle said, smacking Daryl in the arm. "Get your lazy ass off my bed. Ya got stuck with the chinaman and there ain't nothin' ya can do about it now."
"I'm Korean," Glenn's long suffering voice came through the wall. "And if you keep it up, I'll tell you how that book ends."
"Well played," Sinclaire called and she heard Glenn laugh.
Daryl left the room and she blew out the lamp. Aside from the zombie attack it had been a pretty good day. And there were still lake front homes to loot at some point. She and Merle said good night and she went to sleep.