CHUPACABRA PART 2
It was starting to show wear, Natasha thought as she ran her fingers along the frayed fabric of her coat. She wasn't surprised by this since she had been using it constantly since the day she pulled it from Ben's closet. The coat had been gnawed on, used as a blanket during the nights, and snagged on by every rooftop shingle and branch she could find. Since the coat was military-grade, she wasn't worried about it falling apart anytime soon. Aside from her weapons, this single piece of clothing had practically been her best friend since the day of the outbreak. She didn't like thinking that a time would come where she would have to part with it.
"Thanks for washing it for me, Carol," Natasha said as Carol gathered clothes to put on the drying line.
Carol smiled politely. "It's no problem. I was starting to get worried about the seams, so I sewed them up to make them last longer."
"The seams?" Natasha blinked and looked back to the coat. She stared closely at the seams of the lining and saw that extra string had been woven through it. She gave it a couple good tugs before smiling and looking back up. "Oh, thank you for that."
"Yeah. I figured you would want to hold onto that coat for as long as possible," Carol said.
Natasha snickered a bit while absently reaching up to play with her necklace. "I do. This thing has served me well. I would be kinda afraid if I ever lost it." She said and noticed Lori strolling over. "Morning."
"Morning, Tasha," Lori said and patted Natasha on the back. She grabbed a couple of clothes from the laundry basket and began hanging them on the drying line. "I can't believe I slept in."
"You must have needed it," Carol asked, pointing to the dark circles under Lori's eyes. "Feeling all right?"
"Next time wake me, all right? Especially on laundry day."
"I can manage," Carol said confidently. "I had an idea I wanted to run by you."
"What's that?" asked Lori.
"That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking. I wouldn't mind cooking in a real kitchen again." Carol said, smiling with the thought of cooking again. "Maybe we can all pitch in and cook dinner for Hershel and his family tonight." She looked back at Natasha. "Tasha, can you cook?"
"I can boil water," Natasha answered dryly, making Carol and Lori stop to stare at her. "I'm joking. I can cook basic things," Natasha explained quickly, somewhat surprised by how shocked they looked.
"Like what?" Lori asked.
"I'm good at making mashed potatoes and cornbread stuffing. It's what I always made on Thanksgiving with Ben," Natasha recalled while fiddling with the ring dangling from her neck. "But I agree. After what happened to Carl…It's the least we can do."
Carol nodded, appreciating Natasha's encouragement. "Lori, do you mind extending the invitation? Would just feel more right coming from you."
Lori looked confused by this. "How so?"
"You're Rick's wife. It sort of makes you our unofficial first lady."
Natasha nodded in agreement. "She has a point. People tend to look towards you when Rick's not here."
Lori frowned and gave Natasha an odd look. "Really? Because from what I can see…people looked at you more than they did me. If anyone's gonna take charge when Rick's gone… I figured it was going to be you," she said.
Natasha's smile weakened quite a bit but didn't fall entirely. She looked reluctant, tired even by the thought of ever being in charge. She knew people looked to her for help, but that's only because they saw her as reliable and loyal. It didn't mean she had the charisma of a leader that Rick had. And to be blunt…she didn't trust herself to be a leader.
"Thanks for the compliment…but I think you're more suited for that role than I am," Natasha said solemnly. Before Lori could question her, she turned away and saw Rick and Shane heading over to their little makeshift camp. "Morning," she called out.
"Morning, guys," Rick said and ushered everyone over to the truck. "Let's get going. We've got a lot of ground to cover today."
Natasha got up to join them and limped over to the truck. She caught a glance of Shane's heavy and intense gaze as she passed by, but she did her best to ignore him and stand between Daryl and T-Dog. She looked at the truck's hood and noticed a map lying on it.
"Oh, you guys got a map now. This sure makes things easier," she said.
Rick nodded. "Yeah, and everyone's getting a new search grid today. Natasha, I'll give you one later. Gonna let you heal up first before sending you out there."
Natasha sighed and shrugged her shoulders. It was unfortunate because she wanted to head out there and help look for Sophia too, but it was hard to even think about doing that with Shane breathing down her neck as it was. The man tried his best not to act suspicious, but it was easy for her to feel his gaze and feel slightly uncomfortable by it.
"If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might have gone further east than we've been so far," Rick said.
"I'd like to help." Jimmy, the young farmhand, spoke up. "I know the area pretty well and stuff."
"Hershel's okay with this?" Rick asked, raising a brow.
Jimmy hesitated. "Yeah, yeah. He said I should ask you."
Rick thought about it for a moment before nodding his head. "All right then. Thanks."
Getting back on topic, Shane spoke up from the truck's passenger side. "Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me. Anyone could have been holed up in that farmhouse," he said.
"Anybody includes her, right?" Natasha said optimistically.
"Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high," Daryl pointed out.
"It's thin, but all we got so far."
"Better than nothing," Daryl said while nudging Natasha's side.
Natasha nudged him back and nodded in agreement. "Better than nothing."
"Maybe we'll pick up her trail again," Rick said.
"No maybe about it. I'm gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here, take a bird's-eye view of the whole grid. If she's up there, I'll spot her," Daryl said.
"Good idea. Maybe you'll see your Chupacabra up there too," T-Dog teased with a little snicker.
Natasha perked up and raised a brow. "Chupacabra?"
"You never heard this?" Dale started as he walked out of the RV with the bag of guns. "Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time when he went squirrel hunting and saw a Chupacabra?"
Natasha wasn't expecting to hear that. Her eyes grew wide, and she began to feel a laugh bubble in the back of her throat. A slight snicker slipped through her lips, and she quickly turned away to hold back her smile.
"What are you braying at, smartass?" Daryl said, noticing the smile she was trying to hide.
"Nothing," Natasha said shortly.
"Damn liar."
"Daryl, do you really believe in a blood-sucking monster?"
Daryl stiffened a little. "Do you believe dead people walking around?" he countered.
"Well, it's hard to deny that one when you've already had multiple try and gnaw your face off," Natasha argued. She smiled wearily at him and watched Daryl realize that he had no ground to stand on with the argument.
As Dale laid out the weapons for everyone, Jimmy reached out to grab a rifle.
"Hey, hey." Rick quickly cut in to stop him. "Ever fire one before?"
"Well, if I'm going out, I want one," the young man said.
Daryl rolled his eyes and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "Yeah, and people in hell want slurpeesh," he said sharply before walking off with Natasha.
"To get a birds-eye view…You talking about the ridge where the creek cuts through?" Natasha asked, recalling what the map looked like.
Daryl nodded. "Yeah. Looks like a pretty good vantage point. I'll see you later, and…" He suddenly became quiet and glanced over at Shane for a brief moment. Still, it was enough for Natasha to take his worries into consideration.
"I know, I know," Natasha said in a hushed voice. "I'm sure Shane's gonna be pretty busy. I'll try to hang around Lori today. Just to be sure." She took a step back and started to head to the farmhouse. "Come back safe." She waved back at him before turning her body and walking away.
Daryl stayed where he was and just watched as she left. For some reason, he wanted to call back to her, but even if he did, he wouldn't know what to say or why he even did it in the first place. Instead, he resided to just watching her get further and further away. After she disappeared into the farmhouse, Daryl shook his head and walked off to saddle up his horse.
Two pairs of eyes instead of one would certainly be better; Daryl couldn't help but think as he trotted through the woods on horseback. He was looking forward to having Natasha back in the woods soon. It could only make the search easier for everyone and ease Carol's worries.
Daryl guided the horse beside the ridge and looked across the scenery, hoping to see something out of the ordinary. From where he stood, he had a good view of the land and the creek that cut through below him.
He looked down the long cliffs when something caught his attention. Growing curious, he got off his horse and walked over to the edge. He stared down the ridge and saw something pressing against a log that sat in the middle of the creek, half buried in the sand.
Securing his crossbow, Daryl carefully began heading down the slope into the creek. He crossed the shallow waters and picked up the strange object he had seen earlier. It was soaking wet and dirty, but he recognized it as Sophia's doll. The one she had with her when she went missing.
Becoming alarmed, Daryl quickly looked around. "Sophia!" he called out, his voice echoing across the ridge with no one to answer back.
The current probably dragged the doll down since he didn't see any tracks. The thought of why she would've let it go was unsettling to him though. He would believe that a scared child would hold onto it no matter what. Just for some semblance of comfort.
Daryl tucked the doll into his belt and headed back up the ridge. While keeping his eyes peeled and listening carefully to the sounds around him, he mounted his horse and continued down the path. As he rode along the narrow trail, some birds flew up from the bushes beside him and startled the horse a little.
"Easy…easy," Daryl said, trying to hold the reins tightly so it wouldn't buck him off.
As the horse trotted cautiously down the trail, it was again startled by a snake in the middle of the road. It bucked Daryl to the side and sent him careening down the ridge. Stones and tree limbs stabbed his body as he fell before splashing hard into the shallow waters below. He couldn't move after that as pain circulated through him, lighting every nerve in his body on fire.
"Ah…son of a bitch!" he groaned with gritted teeth.
The water around him began turning a dark red shade as Daryl looked down. He sucked in a deep breath when he saw his own arrow sticking out of his side. He snapped his head away and quickly swallowed his pain and fear back down his throat. Knowing that he couldn't stay in the water, he slowly rolled onto his stomach and crawled with great effort back to the shore. He ripped his sleeves off and used the wet fabric to tie around the arrow to keep it from moving. It wasn't ideal, but he was afraid to pull the arrow out in his current state. If he did, there was no telling if the bleeding would worsen.
Daryl took the time to evaluate the situation. He was injured badly, out on his own, with no horse, and trapped at the bottom of the ridge. From those things alone, it already wasn't looking good. He also didn't want to be out in the woods when it got dark because he'd be at a disadvantage against the dead. Daryl knew he had to get back to the trail, but it was a matter of when and not if.
Daylight was burning, so Daryl got to work and looked around for a tree branch that would support him. He picked the closes one up and began pressing it into the ground to see if it could hold his weight. While testing it, Daryl froze when he heard leaves shaking from the bushes across the creek. He stared intently at it and reached around for his crossbow, realizing he didn't have it with him anymore. He looked back to the deeper parts of the creek and shuffled over. He used his branch to blindly fish around until he felt it hit against his submerged crossbow. Once he had retrieved it, he secured it back to his side and got out of the water.
Once he had his bearings, he headed over to the base of the ridge and started climbing up with shots of pain nearly paralyzing his very core. He ignored it though and reached out for a branch to push himself up. He repeats this process like clockwork, thinking about nothing else but the top.
"Come on. You've done half. Stop being such a pussy," he said.
The top of the ridge was nearly in sight, but as he adjusted his footing, he began to feel the dirt start to give away. He desperately reached for another tree limb to save himself, but it slipped from his grasp, and he began to tumble back down to the bottom all over again. He felt his head strike against a rock, and everything went black instantly.
"You know you can't sleep out here, Daryl. It's dangerous."
"It's no different from any of the other times. He's gotta stop being such a pussy."
Swiftly, consciousness flooded back into him, and as Daryl opened his eyes to stare up at the sky, he saw two figures leaning over him. Faces that he knew far too well and had seen many times. He knew the rough, nearly insulting tone to be his brother, Merle. And the delicate but confident voice of Natasha.
"Why don't you pull that arrow out, dummy? You could bind your wound better," Merle said with a crude smile.
Natasha looked at Merle and frowned with disdain. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. If he pulls that arrow out, it could be worse."
Daryl blinked but still couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Tasha...Merle?"
Even though Daryl was slowly waking up, it dawned on him that this whole scene was wrong. There was no way Natasha would be here, much less Merle. He hadn't seen his brother in over a month, and Natasha was back at camp. So he could only think that this was a hallucination.
Merle scoffed and glanced over Daryl's bruised body. "What's going on here? You taking a siesta or something?"
"A shitty day, bro," Daryl responded weakly.
"This wouldn't have happened if I had come out here with you," Natasha said while looking around, her face slowly turning ashen. "It's not looking too good right now."
Merle sneered as his lips curled up. "While you're laying down like this. Like me to get you a pillow? Maybe rub your feet?"
"Screw you," Daryl barked out.
"Huh-uh. You're the one screwed from the looks of it. All them years I spent trying to make a man of you, this is what I get? Look at you. Lying in the dirt like a used rubber. You're gonna die out here, little brother. And for what?"
"A girl. They lost a girl," Daryl croaked.
"So you got a thing for little girls now."
"Shut up."
"'Cause I noticed you ain't out looking for Merle no more."
Natasha's steel eyes immediately blazed to life. "Shut up. You were the one who cut your own hand off," she spat out with venom. "Can't trust anyone but yourself. Don't care about anyone but yourself. You call yourself a man and Daryl less than…but I can't even imagine you going out and risking life and limb to find a missing child. You would just write them off as dead."
Daryl felt his world spinning, but he continued to hold on to the illusions. He knew they weren't real, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to explain that he didn't abandon him. "We went back for you. Rick and I, we did right by you."
Merle's eyes darkened at the mention of the name. "This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me to cut off my own hand. This him we're talking about. You his bitch now?"
"It's not the time for this," Natasha said while grinding her teeth together. She looked back to Daryl and spoke urgently. "You gotta get your head on correctly and find a way out of here.
Merle paid Natasha no mind and continued with his ugly, insulting words. "You're nothing but a freak to them. Redneck trash."
Daryl swallowed a hard lump down his throat. "Tasha… She doesn't," he spoke up without thinking, his voice weak from the pain.
Merle cocked a brow and gestured a thumb to the girl beside him. "We talking about this girl right here? The one you got a high-school crush on?" Merle watched as Daryl tightened his jaw and turned away, which said more than enough. "Get your head out of your ass, little brother. She's out of your league. She's more likely to give herself over to a dead man than someone like you. She's no different than the rest of them. They ain't your kin. Now you you listen to me. Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me, little brother. Nobody ever will."
"Stop talking!" Natasha shouted. She hunched over Daryl and started to shake his shoulders desperately. "Daryl, you need to get up. You can't stay here. You hear me? Get up!"