General POV:
Kali awoke with a throbbing headache and blurry eyes, uncertain of when she had drifted off to sleep the night before. Disappointed to find her brother still absent after poking her head out of the tent, she pushed her disheveled hair into a messy bun. She noticed dried blood under her nails and inspected her hands. There were half-crescent moon imprints on her palms. Must have happened in her sleep.
Letting out a weary sigh, she slipped on her shoes and began packing her bag, and set out the tent determined to set out in search of Daryl.
With her bag packed and her bow slung over her shoulder, Kali made her decision to leave the compound without a word to anyone. No one seemed to pay much attention or question her departure, except for Dale's half-hearted remark about staying within sight. She dismissed his concern, feeling that the others didn't truly care about her or her brothers. Their interactions had become superficial, mere small talk.
Before she could venture too far, a distant scream caught her attention. She paused, torn between her desire to find Daryl and her sense of obligation to help. Should she go help? Her instinct told her to head in the direction of the noise, yet she couldn't deny how she felt that she only wanted to find Daryl so they could go get Merle. She sighed, her internal debate intensifying, before she ultimately changed course and headed towards the source of the scream.
Arriving after a short jog, Kali found herself among other adults who had reached the scene around the same time. She watched as Carl sprinted past her, his sobs revealing his fear. Further into the bushes, a walker was feasting on a deer. Shane materialized at her side, shotgun ready, while Rick followed closely, wielding a tire iron. The sight of the walker sent a shiver down Kali's spine, recalling memories of her past encounter. She considered slipping away into the undergrowth, convinced she wasn't needed and wanting to distance herself and go find her brother.
The ghastly sound of the walker feasting on the deer's insides churned Kali's stomach. Soon, other adults from the camp rushed to the scene, forming a tense circle around the scene of carnage. Among them, Shane, Rick, Morales, Dale, Jim, and Glenn braced for a fight. The walker, a macabre sight with shredded lips and snarling teeth, stood up, bloodied form, a nightmare. The men took turns striking it, each blow accompanied by sickening thuds. Kali involuntarily winced at the brutality, slowly stepping away from the escalating violence. Yeah, it was time for her to leave.
She jumped slightly when she backed up into Andrea and Amy, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the walker that was now being beaten down on the ground until Dale finally axed off its head. She felt frozen again, wide eyes staring, she hates violence even if it's against an undead creature intending to harm them.
Her momentary trance shattered when a familiar voice reached her ears.
"That's my deer." It was Daryl. Watching him vent his frustration by kicking and swearing at the walker's body that had feasted on his deer. Kali's tense chest suddenly released its grip. Relief flooded in.
"Calm down, son," Dale's voice tried to soothe her brother's anger.
"What do you know about it, old man?" Daryl's retort carried a sharp edge. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?"
Kali shot her brother a glance.A realization struck her - she needed to tell him about Merle. Anxiety and worry flooded back in. That had been her main reason for packing up to find Daryl.
"I've been tracking this deer for miles," Daryl's southern drawl lingered in the air pulling his arrows out of the deer that Kali realized she hadn't originally noticed were there. "Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison."
"Daryl," Kali called his name softly, enough to catch his attention. Her gaze carried a subtle plea for him to cool down and not make a scene right now. Unfortunately, his response was a scrutinizing look, questioning why she had her backpack and bow.
They both knew they needed to talk, but doing so in front of everyone was far from ideal.
Deciding to let it go for the moment, Daryl's initial hostility towards Dale seemed to dissipate.
"Think we could salvage some of the meat?" Daryl's voice held a trace of resignation.
"Wouldn't risk it," Shane chimed in.
Daryl shrugged, his attention shifting. "Well, I got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so. That'll have to do."
A soft chuckle escaped Kali as she observed the group's reaction; it seemed like no one shared Daryl's enthusiasm for the squirrels.
The focus shifted to the walker's head, which was still moving its jaw, attempting to bite at the air.
"Oh, God!" Amy's horrified voice came from behind Kali. Both Amy and Andrea hastily retreated, joined by a few others. Daryl promptly put an end to the walker by shooting it in the head, emphasizing the necessity of targeting the head, more specifically the brain.
Daryl turned and started heading back toward the camp, signaling for Kali to follow. Unaware of the gazes fixed on him, he seemed focused on his path.
"C'mon, Kali," Daryl's voice floated back to her. She shot a quick glance back at the group of men, her gaze glaring at Rick, her irritation growing. It irked her that they were all avoiding talking about Merle, leaving it to her.
Rushing to catch up, she reached Daryl who was still calling out for Merle.
"Daryl," she said urgently, trying to get through to him.
"Merle!" His voice echoed again.
"Daryl!" This time, her voice was forceful, and he finally turned to face her. The anxiety in her expression was hard to miss.
"Where's he?" Daryl's concern was evident in his words as he looked at her, waiting for an answer, but there was more bark in his tone than he intended.
The men soon caught up, leaving Kali with little time to answer.
Kali POV:
Shane took the lead, stepping into the conversation. "Daryl, there was a-uhm problem in Atlanta," Shane started off, positioning himself in front of Daryl, with Rick standing close by. The women from the camp observed from the RV's awning, casting curious glances.
My irritation grew as it seemed like everyone was focused on my brother, they were all staring. I had hoped to avoid causing a scene, but the tension in the air was undeniable. Impatience crept in as I wished Shane would just get to the point and wrap this up. I could feel my anger and pissy attitude returning covering the anxiety I actually felt.
My annoyance was palpable as I cut Shane off before he could continue, my voice carrying a clear tone of frustration. "They left him behind."
Daryl glanced at me and then back at the others.
"He dead?" Daryl's question about Merle's fate landed with an eerie casualness that rubbed me the wrong way.
"We're not sure," Shane's vague response didn't help, nor did his hands-on-the-hips posture like he was talking to a middle schooler, and I felt a surge of frustration. Whatever our differences, Merle was still family.
"He better fucking not be," I muttered under my breath, my emotions tangled in a mix of anger and worry. Merle might have been difficult, but I wasn't ready to accept the idea of him being gone. Merle was blood after all.
"He either is or he ain't," Daryl's temper flared, and I shared his sentiments. I wished we could move on from this conversation and start searching for Merle and, if possible, my mother. Denying their deaths seemed to be the only way to keep my sanity.
Daryl's pacing in front of Shane resembled a caged animal, restless and ready to pounce. I could tell by his body language clearly hinted at his growing agitation, and I could sense that if he didn't get straightforward answers, it would end up with fists flying. I stood a few feet behind him, mentally bracing for any potential confrontation.
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it," Rick's voice interjected, drawing our attention.
"Who're you?" Daryl's question was pointed, a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
"Rick Grimes."
"Rick Grimes," Daryl's tone dripped with bitterness, "You got something you want to tell me?"
"Your brother was a danger to us all," Rick's voice remained steady, contrasting Daryl's rising frustration, "So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."
The words hit like a shockwave, leaving me momentarily speechless and utterly flabbergasted. Fuck, I thought they just ditched him or something, not leaving him with nothing.
"Hold on," Daryl's voice was strained, his hand rubbing his chin as if trying to physically push back his rising anger. "Let me process this." He waved his hand around his head in a frustrated gesture. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof. And you left him there!" His voice had escalated to a yell, his face inches away from Rick's. Surprisingly, Rick appeared unfazed by Daryl's outburst, a testament to his own steadfastness.
I wanted to... I don't know what I wanted. I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what I wanted to do or say. Anxiety churned in my stomach at the thought of Merle being not just left behind but trapped somewhere. Guilt gnawed at me for not going to find Daryl sooner. Seeing the turmoil of anger and emotion on my brother's face was like a punch to my own gut. Why did I always feel so lost in these situations? Maybe it's a Dixon trait, bottling up emotions until they explode?
"Yeah," Rick's calm response hung in the air, and that seemed to be the last straw for Daryl. He lunged at Rick, but the other man effortlessly evaded the blow. Shane quickly intervened, knocking Daryl to the ground.
I knelt beside Daryl, my hand attempting to offer a steadying touch on his shoulder, but before I could speak, his voice barked a warning at me, "Back off." He rose to his feet grabbing his knife from his belt, leaving me standing there like a wounded animal. I clenched my jaw, a mix of hurt and understanding swirling inside me. This wasn't his intention, but it stung that he directed his anger at me.
A hand landed on my shoulder, and my reaction was instinctual - a hard flinch. As I turned, I realized it was Carol, attempting to offer comfort. Annoyance surged within me, and I shrugged off her hand. Comfort was the last thing I needed right now.
"Watch the knife," Shane's voice snapped, and his posture mirrored Rick's, both poised for action. The entire group was watching this unfold, including me. The sight of Daryl's struggling form, sandwiched between the two men, tightened the knot in my chest.
"Best let me go!" Daryl's defiant yell echoed, a mixture of anger and desperation. "Choke hold's illegal."
"You can file a complaint," Shane retorted getting Daryl onto the ground.
I started to move automatically forward. Another hand moved to halt me, but I brushed past it, ignoring Lori's attempt to intervene.
I couldn't watch this anymore.
"Stop!" The plea escaped me, almost a cry.
They seemed to all but ignore me, and that just fueled my anger. I'm not naturally violent, but seeing them ganging up on my brother ignited a fiery indignation within me.
"Stop," I repeated, my voice firmer. But still, no response. My frustration grew.
Fueled by a surge of protective rage, I walked right up to Shane from behind and gave his ear a fierce tug, twisting it while pulling down.
"Ow!" Shane's grip slackened, just enough for Daryl to break free from his hold and find his own footing. Shane's face twisted in a mix of surprise and anger.
"What the-" he began, but I didn't let him finish.
"I said stop," I snarled, scrunching my nose. Daryl's laughter at my bold move was reassuring, and he positioned himself in front of me. The contorted expression on Shane's face hinted at the struggle to control his own temper.
"Look," Rick interjected, his gaze locked onto Daryl's, "I'd like us to have a calm discussion about this." He held Daryl's gaze steadily. "Can we manage that?"
Daryl grunted in response, a noncommittal acknowledgment.
And so, a tense conversation followed. They discussed how T-Dog had managed to lose the key to the cuffs, dropping it down a drain. What a dumbass move, I thought to myself. But, at last, there was a plan in place to retrieve my elder brother. Finally.