CHUPACABRA PART 4

The farmhouse door slowly creaked open, and Natasha stepped onto the porch. The sun above shimmered with flecks of gold and orange that resembled a dazzling but blinding kaleidoscope. Natasha turned her eyes away and rubbed them with the back of her hand. She blinked furiously and hoped the redness around her eyes had faded enough to where people wouldn't ask questions. Even if it did though, she wasn't up to the thought of mingling with people right now. Every muscle in her body felt heavy, and her mind was swimming in thick coats of black tar. Just standing was difficult; all Natasha wanted to do right now was lie down and sleep.

Natasha stepped down the porch and began walking back to the campsite. She had to stop though when she heard an approaching galloping sound gradually getting closer. Turning her head to the side, Natasha jumped when she saw a fully grown horse running up to her.

"Jesus…" Natasha mumbled as the horse came to a slow stop. "Ain't you a nervous thing." She ran her hand up the horse's face to try and calm her down since she was still jittery. "I know you. Weren't you the horse Daryl took with him up the trail?" she asked as the horse nudged its nose against her chest. "Then… where's Daryl?" She turned her head and looked around, but she didn't see Daryl. The horse was alone.

Blood congealed underneath Daryl's nails as he dug the bloodied guts out of a freshly caught squirrel. Even though the taste of blood was revolting, the animal's entrails were about enough to regain his strength for the climb ahead. His efforts before had already told him that his strength was starting to wane, so Daryl knew he had to take a step back and regain what had been lost. One of which being his pride.

Unsheathing his knife, Daryl approached the dead walker bodies and leaned down. He turned their faces to the side and sliced their ears off. After that, he laced them through a piece of shoestring and dangled his 'trophy' around his neck.

Once all that was out of the way, Daryl looked back to the ridge and walked over to it. He started his trial for a second time by grabbing a thick tree root and pushing himself up, holding his breath with every move he made. He bit back the painful stitch in his side and pretended it wasn't even there, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion once more. Yet all that meant nothing to him. The lack of breath in his chest, the burning sensation in his muscles, and the searing pain from his wound. The only thing he had on his mind was reaching the top and stopping the constant chattering from his brother and Natasha.

"What's the matter, Darylina?" Merle teased him from the top of the ridge. "That's all you got in you? Throw away that purse and climb."

"I liked you better when you were missing," Daryl grunted as he continued to push.

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm on your side."

"Yeah, since when?"

"Hell, since the day you were born, baby brother."

Merle snickered and moved to the side as Natasha rushed past him. With her face pale with fright, she dropped to her knees and leaned far over the ridge. She extended her hand out in front of her like she was trying to help him up, but Daryl didn't make a move and ignored her.

"Come on, Daryl! Climb! You're almost there," she said desperately.

Merle paid no mind to Natasha and continued to taunt Daryl and his struggles. "Somebody had to look after your worthless ass."

"You never took care of me," Daryl said through gritted teeth. "You talk a big game but you was never there."

Natasha furrowed her brows. "What are you talking about." She grabbed a nearby tree and held on as she leaned further over. "Daryl please. Just grab my hand. I'm right here!"

"Hell, you ain't here now. Guess some things never change."

"Well, I'll tell you what…." Merle started. "I'm as real as your Chupacabra."

"I know what I saw."

"And I'm sure them shrooms you ate had nothing to do with it, right?" Merle said with a crooked smile.

"You best shut the hell up!" Daryl shouted.

Natasha flinched at his tone of voice but continued to reach out. "Daryl, please. Just let me help! You don't have to do this alone!"

Merle gave a booming laugh and kneeled beside Natasha. "That's right, little brother. Come on. Reach for your girlfriend."

"I don't need help!" Daryl growled and continued to ignore all of them. He grabbed another limb and pushed himself closer to the top, closer to the mocking illusions staring down at him.

Natasha's face twisted with mild anger as she inched closer. With one final stretch, her hand shot out and suddenly grasped Daryl's arm. The shock of feeling genuine warmth nearly caused Daryl to slip, but he could only catch himself because of Natasha's death grip.

"Come on! I got you! I'm not letting go!" Natasha breathed out as she pushed off the ground, practically dragging Daryl to the top.

She grasped ahold of him with two arms and pulled with all her might, finally giving Daryl a chance to grab the top of the ridge and push himself up. He didn't wait to find his balance and stood tall, staring right at Natasha with stunned eyes. Looking at her closely, he could see that her hair was messy and tangled, and her face flushed a bright pink shade. She was breathing heavily, too, like she had rushed to get out to the ridge.

"Natasha?" Daryl said breathlessly. He blinked wildly before finally coming to terms with the fact that this was real. That she…was here.

Natasha scrambled to her legs and helped Daryl lean back against a tree, since it looked like he was moments away from passing out.

Only then did he notice a horse standing a couple of feet in front of them. The same horse that bucked him off in the first place.

"The hell are you doing here?" he said.

"What in the world are you doing down there?!" she argued back.

"I got knocked down by that stupid ass horse!" Daryl shouted, pointing an aggressive finger at the creature.

"She's a little skittish, I get that, but let's get back to the farm."

Not giving him time to argue back, Natasha pushed him over to the horse and helped him up. Once he was secure, she hoisted herself up and grabbed the reins. Natasha kicked her feet, and the horse immediately leaped into a full sprint down the trail toward the farm.

"I found it washed up on the creek bed. She must've dropped it crossing there somewhere," Daryl said, lying on his side in bed as Hershel stitched up his wound.

Natasha sat on the other side of the bed with a map unfolded onto her lap. She marked the trail down with a pen to get the general location of where the doll came from. With this new finding, they could now narrow down the scope of their search even more.

"Cuts the grid in half. I looked at the trail you went on and didn't see anything else either. Just the tracks you made." Natasha said while rolling up the map and setting it on the nightstand.

"Yeah, you're welcome," Daryl spat before raising his head to Natasha. "How the hell did you find me?"

"You said you were gonna check out the ridge. Remember? I knew something was up when the horse came back on its own. I just kinda followed in your footsteps until I found you climbing back up the ridge." Natasha said while twirling the pen in her hand. She looked up at Hershel when he stepped back, washing his hands with a rag. "How's he doing?"

"I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics so quickly," Hershel said with a hint of annoyance. "And the horse, Nelly. I could've told you she'd throw you if you'd bothered to ask. And you." He then gestured to Natasha. "You're still injured, and still left without telling anyone. It's a wonder you people have survived this long," he said sternly to Rick.

Natasha turned away and briefly made eye contact with Shane. Luckily, he didn't return it and seemed preoccupied with the doll Daryl had found.

Natasha knew what she did was unwise, but she had her reasons. She didn't want word to get back to Shane. Whether she had stayed behind or not, Natasha had a sinking suspicion that he would've tried something if given a chance. She already knew she could handle it herself. Quickly and quietly, and without anyone being the wiser.

They left the room to let Daryl rest and walked out into the hallway. Lori was waiting outside for them and immediately rose once she saw them coming.

"He'll be all right," Rick said, giving her a quick pat on the arm before walking off.

"I hate to say it, but I'm with Hershel on this one," Shane said before Rick could leave. "Can't keep going out there, not after this."

"You'd quit now? Daryl just risked his life to bring back the first hard evidence we've had," Rick argued.

"That's one way to look at it. The way I see It, Daryl almost died today for a doll."

"Yeah, I know how you see it." Rick said through clenched teeth, ending the conversation. He gave Natasha an appreciated pat on the shoulder before finally leaving the hallway.

"I'm not out to be a hard case. Just being realistic." Shane said to Lori. "He's just got to start making the tough calls. You know I'm right.

"I may not agree with all his choices, or Natasha running off like she did. But I respect them," said Lori. "Yours isn't harder. It's the easiest thing in the world to cut our losses and to not help. You keep telling yourself you're making the tough calls. You're really just trying-"

"The only thing I care about now is you and Carl," Shane abruptly said. "So I apologize if I appear to be insensitive to the needs of others, but you see… I'll do whatever it takes to keep the two of you safe."

Natasha felt her body tense up. Beginning to move on her own, she pushed herself off the wall and walked up beside Lori. She dropped a hand on her shoulder and looked Shane directly in the eyes, flushing away her fear for him to finally speak up.

"Is that the excuse you're going to use? To abandon a lost child? This is a group, Shane. We're supposed to look after everyone. I understand you want to be realistic, but that has nothing to do with things right now."

"So you think you're the one who can start making the hard decisions?" Shane spoke with a dark undertone to his words.

Natasha held her breath and was instantly brought back to Otis's fate. The sound of his screams, the gnawing of flesh and bones, and the bone-chilling sound of a single silencing gunshot.

That was Natasha's mercy.

That was the hard decision she was forced to make.

In a certain twist, Natasha could understand why he did it. Sacrificing someone to save an innocent boy. But what generally frightened her was if this was Shane's version of a hard decision. Did he truly believe that what he did was the right thing? It was hard to tell, because in the moment before the disaster…there was hardly any regret in Shane's eyes when he pulled the trigger.

A tinge of guilt crept under Natasha's skin, making her mind wander. That night…if she had gone alone, Otis wouldn't have died, but because of his fate, Natasha wouldn't have been alerted to Shane's descent into madness. She wouldn't have been so cautious. Less on guard. More…vulnerable.

Otis's death was when the rose-tinted glasses were removed, and she could finally see the danger currently standing in front of her.

Natasha swallowed hard and lowered her head. She didn't feel like talking to Shane anymore because it felt like arguing with a boulder. A boulder on the brink of rolling downhill.

"We'll meet you downstairs." Natasha patted Lori on the shoulder and quickly left.

Despite Natasha's absence, Lori and Carol prepared tonight's dinner well. There was no conversation to be had though, and the room was filled with cold silence. Saved for the sound of silverware consistently tapping against their plates. Natasha did her best to keep her eyes away from Shane, but Hershel's disgruntled look was no better. His face had a permanent scowl that made Natasha lose her appetite nearly instantly.

Hershel didn't like that Rick and his group were stepping over boundaries, and he made it clear to everyone that looked in his direction.

"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" Glenn spoke up against the tension. He turned his body around and faced the group at the main table, who all refused to look at him. "Dale found a cool one. Somebody got to know how to play," he dared laugh.

Patricia spoke up after no one said anything. "Otis did."

"Yes, and he was very good, too," Hershel added before returning to his food.

And once again, the room was surrounded by this painful silence it once knew. No one spoke up again, and they all resigned themselves to eating within the tension.

The only saving grace Natasha got was when Carol got up, explaining that she would make a plate for Daryl upstairs.

"Natasha, can you help me?" Carol spoke up while getting a plate ready.

Natasha's head darted up the moment her name was called. Quickly, she rose from her seat and grabbed a glass of wine to bring upstairs. Once they were in the silence of the hallway, Carol spoke up.

"You looked like you wanted to escape," she said.

Natasha nodded, her face falling grim. "I don't think I was the only one, but yeah. I wanted nothing more than to let the earth swallow me whole."

Carol chuckled a little. Rounding a corner, she opened the door to Daryl's room and walked inside. Daryl was lying on the bed, covers tucked over him and bandaged up.

"How are you feeling?" Carol asked, stepping to the side to let Natasha in.

"As good as I look," Daryl said before turning his back to them.

Carol bit down on her lips. "We brought you some dinner. You must be starving," she said and sat the plate on the nightstand. She looked at him momentarily before leaning over and kissing him on the side of the head. Daryl was obviously not expecting it and flinched away from her.

"Watch out, I got stiches," Daryl whispered. He turned away as Natasha walked alongside the bed, sitting at the edge.

"You need to know something," Carol began. "You done more for my little girl today than her own daddy did in his whole life."

Daryl did his best to avoid eye contact with any of them. "I didn't do anything Rick or Natasha wouldn't have done."

"I know. You're every bit as good as them. Every bit." She said with a weak smile before stepping out of the room. She looked to Natasha but was given the signal to leave them alone momentarily.

Even after Carol left, Daryl still didn't turn his head up. "Something you wanna say?"

Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and thought for a moment. Back to when she found Daryl climbing up the ridge.

"Back…back then. You were talking to yourself, and even acted like I wasn't there," she began, frowning. "Daryl…are you ok?"

Daryl pulled the covers further up his body and pressed his head deep into the pillow. He snuck a peek at Natasha and saw her steely eyes studying him. She had a perplexed look on her face with hints of worry, but she was also waiting patiently for him to speak.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine," he muttered against the covers.

"Did you see something while down there?"

Her voice was sweet and calm sounding but hearing her say those words was like a shock through his body. His eyes opened wide, and he whipped his head up to look at her, knowing he had just told the truth by his actions alone.

Natasha smiled at him, very patient as usual. "I can kind of put together that you were probably hallucinating something…but I'm not going to dig into it if it's gonna make you feel uncomfortable." She placed her hand on the mattress and leaned in close until their eyes were leveled. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to…but please know that I'm right here if you need someone to talk to. I won't judge or think any less of you," she whispered sweetly.

Daryl kept his mouth shut and just laid back down. He was transfixed on Natasha's movements as she got up and walked around to his side of the bed. Instead of saying anything, she just patted his shoulder and walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.