Between the Thorns
Chapter 26
Daryl wasn't riding in the same vehicle as Carl. He had mixed feelings about returning to Alexandria. Even if it was only for a brief visit.. But he felt relieved knowing that he was at least headed in the same direction as Carl and would be able to ensure that the boy was actually returned to his father, as Negan promised.
Somehow, Daryl ended up riding in the same truck as Simon. The other man was driving. Daryl was riding shotgun. An awkward silence filled the cab of the truck, drawing out the tension between them. Daryl watched the roads, familiarizing himself with the routes that were being taken and the general location of the Sanctuary in relation to Alexandria and the Hilltop.
Daryl felt his body tense when Simon turned the truck to the right, taking them in a different direction from the rest of the convoy. He shifted his hand, gripping the handle of the knife on his belt. Simon chuckled, his eyes lingering only briefly on Daryl before he turned his focus back to the road.
"Just taking you to your post," Simon said. Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man, not releasing the grip he had on his knife. They drove for about another half hour before Daryl finally started to relax. If Simon was leaving the convoy to kill him, there was no reason for him to drive so far. Daryl figured the man could have shot him twenty five minutes ago. But he tensed again when Simon pulled the truck over onto the side of the road. Simon held his hands up, giving Daryl another insincere grin.
"Just got to make a pit stop," he announced. "That coffee went right through me." Daryl eyed the man with suspicion, watching as Simon climbed out of the truck and disappeared into a thicket of trees on the edge of the woods. The keys were in the truck. And it was still running. Daryl knew there were supplies and weapons packed in the back of the truck. If he was ever going to escape from the Saviors, this was the best chance he was ever going to get. And for a moment, Daryl almost slid across the seat and slid behind the wheel. He wasn't sure why he didn't. Part of it was that the whole situation felt like a set up. He was beaten severely the last time he tried to escape. And if he tried again, Daryl suspected he would not be the only one punished for his indiscretion. But that wasn't the only reason Daryl stayed in his seat. The other part was harder for him to explain. It was the way Jean's smaller body felt snuggled up against his. And that he wasn't sure he could go back to a life of solitude now that he had a taste of what it was like not to be alone.
"Are you fucking joking me?," Simon cursed as he swung the driver's side door open. "Do you need a written fucking invitation?" Daryl gave the man a questioning glance. But he had a feeling he knew what was going on. Simon wasn't stupid. Or careless. He left the keys in the truck on purpose. He wanted Daryl to run. To leave. To never come back. He wanted him out of the way. So he could have Jean to himself. Daryl wasn't sure why the man didn't just try to kill him. But he was sure Simon had his reasons. He was probably afraid of the repercussions he would face if he disobeyed Negan. If Daryl took off, it would leave Simon in the clear. "Fucking go!," Simon hollered. "Go back to your people. Go find new people. Its not a fucking trap. You can just go. Keep driving. Don't ever come back."
"Is there really an outpost this way?," Daryl asked. Simon reluctantly nodded his head. "Then take me there," Daryl said, pulling his knife out and twirling it around in his hands.
Simon slammed the truck door shut. He kicked at the truck and let out a string of foul curses. Once he had his anger under control he climbed back into the driver's seat. Just around the next bend in the road was the outpost they were heading for. Which made sense. If Daryl had taken off and took the truck, Simon didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere. He pulled up in front of the place, slamming the brakes hard and ordering Daryl out of the truck. Once the passenger door was shut, Simon gassed the truck. The tires squealed against the pavement, leaving tire tread marks as he drove back the way he came. There were a few people outside, working on various tasks. They looked up with mixed expressions of surprise and amusement at the scene Simon made. A bookish looking man in a gray cargo jacket approached, sticking his hand out to Daryl.
"Gavin," he said. "...you must be the new recruit." Daryl nodded and offered up his name before following Gavin into the building. He was shown to his bunk, surprised to see that there was a handgun and a crossbow waiting for him on top of a pile of bedding. And when Daryl took a closer look, he noticed that it wasn't just any crossbow but his crossbow. The one he hadn't seen since the night Glenn and Abraham were killed. He picked it up, enjoying the familiar feel of it. Once it was in his hands, Daryl noticed that there was more than just some clean bedding under the bow. His vest was also there, folded up on top of the clean blanket.
"Heard you were a hunter?," Gavin said, looking hopeful that the rumors were true. Daryl nodded again. "Alright then. We've got a tribute pickup in three days. Until then, it's your job to go hunting. Get us a deer. And take a few of the younger guys with you, see if you can teach them anything. That work for you?" Daryl was taken aback for a moment. He didn't think he would be allowed to go hunting. And he was even more surprised that he was being asked for his agreement on the job assignment he was being given.
"That works for me."
